History of The Church Vol I

MlJSTOiRY OF WME CM U ROM
History of the church

Edited by
HUBERT JEDIN
and
JO H N DOLAN
Volume I
FROM THE
APOSTOLIC COMMUNITY
TO CONSTANTINE
by
KARL BAUS
General Introduction to Church History
by
HUBERT JEDIN
CROSSROAD • N EW YORK
1982
The Crossroad Publishing Company
575 Lexington Avenue, New York, NY 10022
Translated from the Handbuch der Kirchengeschichte, edited by Hubert Jedin
Vol. I: Von der Urgemeinde zur frichristlichen Grosskirche, 3rd ed.
© Verlag Herder KG Freiburg im Breisgau 1962
English translation © 1965 Herder KG
AH rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced,

stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by
any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise,
without the written permission of The Crossroad Publishing Company.
Printed in the United States of America
Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data
Handbuch der Kirchengeschichte. English.
History of the church.
Translation of: Handbuch der Kirchengeschichte.
Vols. previously issued under title: Handbook of

church history.
Includes bibliographies and indexes.

Contents: v. 1. From the apostolic community to
Constantine / by Karl Baus — — v. 3- The church in

the age of feudalism / by Friedrich K em pf. . . [et al.] —
v. 4. From the High Middle Ages to the eve of the Re
formation / by Hans-George Beck . . ' [et al.]
1. Church history—Collected works. 1. Jedin, Hubert,

1900- II. Dolan, John Patrick. III. Title.
BR145.2.H3613 1982 270 82-5037
ISBN 0-8245-0314-7 AACR2
CONTENTS
P refa ce................................................................................................................. ix
Preface to the English E d i t i o n .............................................................................................xi
List of Abbreviations..................................................................................................... xiii-xxiii
General Introduction T o C hurch H i s t o r y ........................................................... 1
I. The Subject Matter, Methods, Ancillary Sciences, and Divisions of Church

History, and its Relevance for T o d a y ............................................................... 1
II. The Writing and Study of Church H is t o r y ................................................................ 11
The Writing of Church History: Its Beginning in A n tiq u ity .....................................11
The Writing of History in the Middle Ages:
Christian History, not Church H is t o r y ....................................................................... 15
The Flowering of Church History from the Sixteenth to the Eighteenth Century 23
Church History as a Theological D iscip lin e................................................................ 32
Church History as an Historical and Theological Science in the Nineteenth
and Twentieth C enturies.................................................................................................. 35
Church History in England and America in the Nineteenth and Twentieth
C e n t u r i e s ........................................................................................................................ 47
PART ONE: THE BEGINNINGS
Section O ne : J ewish C h r i s t i a n i t y ..................................................................................59
Chapter 1: Judaism in the Time of Jesus.............................................................................. 59

The Religious Situation among Palestinian J e w r y .........................................................60
The Qumran C om m u nity...................................................................................................63
The Jewish D ia sp o r a ..........................................................................................................66
Chapter 2: Jesus of Nazareth and the C h u r c h ................................................................ 70
Chapter 3: The Primitive Church at Jerusalem ................................................................74
The External Events and Early E n viro n m en t................................................................74
Organization, Belief, and P i e t y .....................................................................................77
Section T wo : T he W ay I nto T he P agan W o r l d ............................................................86

Chapter 4: The Religious Situation in the Graeco-Roman World at the Time of its
Encounter with C h r is tia n ity ........................................................................................... 86
V
CONTENTS
Decline of the Ancient Greek and Roman Religions..........................................................86

The Emperor C u l t .................................................................................................. 88
The Eastern Mystery C u l t s .....................................................................................90
Popular R e lig io n ..........................................................................................................94
Chapter 5: The Apostle Paul and the Structure of the Pauline Congregations . . 98
The Religious History of the Apostle P a u l ........................................................................99
The Mission of P a u l ...................................................................................................100
Organization of the Pauline Congregations......................................................................105
Religious Life in the Pauline Congregations...................................................................... 108
Chapter 6: Peter’s Missionary Activity and his Sojourn and Death in Rome . . I ll
Extra-Pauline Gentile Christianity................................................. m
Sojourn and Death of the Apostle Peter at R o m e ........................................................112
The Tomb of Peter................................................................................................................ 115
Chapter 7: The Christianity of the Johannine W ritin g s.................................................119
Section Three: The Post-A postolic A g e ...................................................................... 124

Chapter 8: The Conflict between Christianity and the Roman State Power . . 125
The Beginnings of the C o n flic t................................................ 125
The Persecutions under Nero and D o m i t ia n ............................................................... 128
The Court Trials of Christians under Trajan and H a d r ia n ..........................................132
Chapter 9: The Religious World of the Post-Apostolic Age as Mirrored in its
W r i t i n g s ..............................................................................................................................137
Chapter 10: The Development of the Church’s O rganization..........................................146
Chapter 11: Heterodox Jewish-Christian C u r re n ts........................................................ 153
Section Four: The Church In The Second Ce n t u r y ................................................. 159
Chapter 12: The Position of the Church under the Emperors Marcus Aurelius and
Commodus. Martyrdom of the Congregations of Lyons and Vienne . . . . 159
Chapter 13: Literary Polemic against C h r is tia n ity ........................................................ 164
C elsu s..................................................................................................................................... 167
Chapter 14: The Early Christian Apologists of the Second Century . . . . 171
Chapter 15: The Dispute with G n o s tic is m ...................................................................... 181
Basic Ideas of G nosticism .................................................................................................. 183
The Principal Manifestations of G n o sticism ............................................................... 187
M a r c i o n .............................................................................................................................. 190
The Church’s Self-Defence and the Importance of the Christian Victory . . 192
Chapter 16: The Rise of Montanism and the Church’s Defence against it . . . 199
Chapter 17: The Expansion of Christianity down to the End of the Second
C e n t u r y ..............................................................................................................................205
PART TWO: THE GREAT CHURCH OF EARLY CHRISTIAN TIMES

(c. A.D. 180-324)
Introduction........................................................................................................ . . . 2 1 5
Section One: The Inner Consolidation O f The C hurch In The Third
Ce n t u r y ............................................................................................................................. 217
vi
CONTENTS
Chapter 18: The Attack of the Pagan State on the C h u r c h ..........................................217

The Persecutions under Septimius S everu s................................................................ 217
The Persecution under D e c iu s ......................................................................................222
Valerian and G a l l i e n u s .............................................................................................226
Chapter 19: Further Development of Christian Literature in the East in the Third
C e n t u r y ......................................................................................................................... 229
The Beginnings of the Theological School of A lex a n d ria ....................................229
Christian Schools in the E a s t......................................................................................230
Clement of Alexandria.......................................................................................................... 231
O r i g e n ..........................................................................................................................234
Dionysius of Alexandria; Methodius; Lucian of Antioch and his School . • . 240
Chapter 20: The Development of Christian Literature in the West in the Third
C e n t u r y ......................................................................................................................... 243
The Rise of Early Christian Latin and the Beginning of a Christian Literature in
Latin. Minucius F e l i x ....................................................................................................243
H i p p o l y t u s .................................................................................................................. 244
N o v a t i a n ......................................................................................................................... 247
Tertullian .................................................................................................................. 248
C y p r i a n ......................................................................................................................... 252
Chapter 21: The First Christological and Trinitarian Controversies . . . . 254
Modalist M on arch ian ism ............................................................................................ 256
Chapter 22: M a n ic h a e is m .................................................................................................. 261
Chapter 23: Further Development of the L it u r g y ..................................................268
Easter and the Easter C ontroversy..............................................................................268
Catechumenate and Baptism ..................................................................................... 275
The Celebration of the E u ch arist..............................................................................281
The Beginnings of Christian A r t ..............................................................................285
Chapter 24: Spiritual Life and Morality in the Communities of the Third Century 288
Baptismal S p r itu a lity ...................................................................................................288
Devotion to M a rty rd o m ............................................................................................292
The Asceticism of the Third C e n tu r y .......................................... ....... 295
Prayer and Fasting in Early Christian S pirituality..................................................299
Early Christian M o r a l s ............................................................................................306
Marriage and the F a m ily ............................................................................................307
Early Christian Works of M e r c y ..............................................................................308
The Attitude of Early Christianity to Secular Civilization and Culture . . . 313
The Early Christian Church and the Pagan S t a t e ..................................................316
Chapter 25: The Holiness of the Christian and his C h u r c h ....................................318

Penance in the Shepherd of H e r m a s .............................................................................321
Tertullian’s Two Views of P e n a n c e .......................................................................324
Penitential Discipline in North Africa in Cyprian’s T i m e ....................................330
The Roman Controversy on Penance and the Schism of Novatian . . . . 334
Doctrine and Practice of Penance in the East in the Third Century . . . . 338
Disputes Concerning Penance after the Persecution of Diocletian . . . . 344
Chapter 26: The Development of the Church’s Constitution in the Third Century 346
The C l e r g y .................................................................................................................346
The Bishop and his Church........................................................................................... 352
Forms of Organization Larger than the Local C om m unity................................... 353
The Pre-eminent Position of Rome and its B i s h o p ................................................. 355
The Controversy about Heretical B a p tism ............................................................... 360
Devotion to the Church in the Third C e n t u r y ........................................................ 365
v ii
CONTENTS
Chapter 27: The Extent of Christianity prior to the Diocletian Persecution . . 367
The E a s t .............................................................................................................................. 369
The W e s t .............................................................................................................................. 379
Section T wo : The Last A ttack O f P aganism A nd T he Final V ictory O f The
C h u r c h ............................................................................................................................................389
Chapter 28: The Intellectual Struggle against Christianity at the End of the Third
C e n t u r y .............................................................................................................................. 389
Chapter 29: Outbreak and Course of the Diocletian Persecution down to Galerius’
Edict of Toleration 3 1 1 .................................................................................................. 396
Chapter 30: The Definitive Turning-Point under Constantine the Great . . . 405
Reverse under Maximinus D a i a ....................................................................................405
Constantine’s “Conversion” to Christianity......................................................................407
From the Convention of Milan, 313, to the Beginning of Sole Rule, 324 . . . 416
Chapter 31: The Causes of the Victory of the Christian Religion. The Scope and
Import of the “Constantinian Turning-Point” ............................................................... 426
Bi b l i o g r a p h y ............................................................................................................................. 433
Bibliography to the General In trodu ction ......................................................................435

General Bibliography to Volumes I and I I ......................................................................447
Bibliography to Individual C h a p t e r s .............................................................................459
G eneral Index To V olume I ...........................................................................................507

PREFACE
As any historical work of this kind must do, the handbook seeks first of all
to give a reliable account of the principal events and leading figures in
Church history. In the second place — and here it is distinguished from
most previous manuals — it examines not only the Church’s external career
in the world but also her inner life, the development of her doctrine and
preaching, her ritual and devotion. Our presentation does not follow the
usual lines but attempts to evoke the fruitful plenitude of the mystery
which is the Church by shedding light on the interaction between her
outward vicissitudes and her inner life. With this end in view (and in
order to avoid duplication as far as possible) the collaborators drew up
a complete table of contents in 1958, and at their last meeting in Trier, in
1960, submitted specimen chapters which indicated the arrangement and
orientation of the book. We discovered in the course of this work how
difficult it is to give the most comprehensive possible account of the facts
in a readable style. Each collaborator has had to wrestle with this problem;
with what success, we must leave the critics to judge.
No less difficult was the problem of sources and literature. The handbook
must after all provide an introduction to these if it is to be useful not
only at university level but also for religious instruction in secondary
schools and for adult education. Now bibliographies of every sort abound.
But who is in a position to collect the material there cited — scattered as
it is all over the world —, to read it, and to sift the important information
from the unimportant? We had to content ourselves with a limited bibliog
raphy relevant to our purpose and selected on the following principles:
we must indicate the most important sources and such of the older literature
as is still indispensable, and cite the most recent books and articles in
which further bibliography can be found. The Bibliography at the back
of the book contains a section for each chapter. Reference to sources and
literature on special subjects, as well as some biographical material in the
IX
PREFACE
sections on modern times, are given in the footnotes, which we have

purposely kept to a minimum.
The chief editor, Professor Jedin, has attempted in the General Intro
duction to Church History to point out the basic method of this discipline
and to show in more detail than has been done hitherto how the Church’s
consciousness of her history evolved into an academic study. It is a first
attempt and the writer is by no means unaware of its shortcomings.
The author of this volume on the pre-Constantinian Church, Professor
Baus, was only entrusted with his task in 1958. Some of his decisions regard
ing choice of material and the scope of particular chapters were taken in
view of the following considerations: The apostolic age might have been
given much fuller treatment on the basis of the history of New Testament
times, but the volume would then have far exceeded the size proposed. The
author has therefore tried to summarize those features of the early Church
which continue to characterize her during her subsequent history. The bibliog
raphy for this period sufficiently indicates his indebtedness to special studies.
In contrast with most textbooks, considerable space is here devoted to the
development of Christian literature, a factor of such importance for the
Church’s inner life that its neglect would seriously distort the general
picture. Finally, the special aims of the handbook made it necessary to
include comparatively detailed chapters on the growth of early Christian
liturgy, on the sacrament of penance, and on the life of the Christian
community, which in certain respects — for example the spirituality of
baptism and martyrdom — are still an almost untouched field.
In the course of preparing this volume the author received help from
many quarters, help which was most welcome when it took the form of
criticism. He is indebted in the first place to the other collaborators, but
particularly so to the general editor, Hubert Jedin, to his former teacher
J. A. Jungmann, and to Oskar Kohler, head of the Lexicographical Institute
at the publishing house of Herder. A special word of thanks is also due to
the staff of the library of the Theological Faculty at Trier, who showed such
zeal in finding important literature.
This first volume of the handbook appears during the deliberations of the
Second Vatican Council. The authors hope that their work may contribute
in some measure to a deeper understanding of the Church and a greater love
for her.
Hubert Jedin, Karl Baus
x
P R E F A C E TO TH E E N G L I S H E D I T I O N
I t is sincerely hoped that the appearance of the English version of the

Handbuch der Kirchengeschichte so soon after the original German edition
will fill a long neglected need in this area of study. Over half a century,
unparalleled in productive historical research, has passed since the publi
cation in English of Funk’s Manual of Church History. Similar works
available in translation have, for the most part, failed to utilize much of
the post-war scholarship in scriptural and patristical studies. Unlike tradi
tional manuals of this type, with their skeletal outlines and perfunctory
narrative, the present work combines a wealth of current and scholarly
research with an accompanying text that is equally scholarly in presentation
and interpretation. The Handbuch not only offers the student precise infor
mation on the important events and personalities in the history of the
Church, it also focuses considerable attention on all that expresses or reflects
its internal life — the development of dogma, liturgy, ecclesiastical
organization, the spiritual and moral life, and the literary activity of the
Christian communities.
The ample treatment given the Dead Sea scrolls and the discoveries at
Nag Hammadi is extremely relevant as theologians continue to rethink the
attitude of the primitive Church toward Judaism and to examine the syncre-
tistic aspects of early Christianity and its reaction to the ancient mytho
logical image of the world. The international and non-sectarian composition
of the secondary source material gives the book an ecumenical dimension,
while the objective treatment of such problems as the Vatican excavations
and the political turn of Constantine to Christianity are representative of
its avoidance of the polemic and confessional partisanship often latent in
Church histories.
Professor Jedin’s masterful introductory essay on the historical devel
opment of Church history from Christian antiquity to the present day is
a forthright declaration of the serious academic nature of ecclesiastical
history and may well prove a literary landmark in the final emancipation
xi
PREFACE TO THE ENGLISH EDITION
of that discipline from the lingering effects of the rationalistic attack on

the theological interpretation of history. It confronts the anti-historical
mentality, so dominant since Trent — with its tendency to isolate dogma
from the living fabric of history —, with a bold affirmation of the need for
examining the Church in its concrete and contingent development. The
neglect of the study of Church history in seminaries and the curious lack
of chairs of ecclesiastical history in Catholic universities point only too
clearly to a need for some kind of reappraisal.
Above all the Handbuch aims at implementing the conviction that
theology is an activity within the historic organism of the Church, and
that Church history must not only provide the necessary framework and
documentary material for this activity, it must also communicate the life
and the mind of the Church as well.
John P. Dolan
L I S T OF A B B R E V I A T I O N S
AAB Abhandlungen der Deutschen (till 1944: Preussischen) Akademie der Wissen-
schaften zu Berlin. Phil.-hist. Klasse, Berlin 1815 seqq.
AAG Abhandlungen der Akademie der Wissenscbaften in Gottingen (down to Series
III, 26, 1940: AGG), Gottingen 1949 seqq.
AAH Abhandlungen der Heidelberger Akademie der Wissenscbaften, Phil.-hist.
Klasse, Heidelberg 1913 seqq.
AAM Abhandlungen der Bayerischen Akademie der Wissenscbaften, Phil.-hist.
Klasse, Munich 1835 seqq.
Abel HP F.-M. Abel, Histoire de la Palestine depuis la conquete d’Alexandre jusqu’d
Vinvasion arabe, I-II, Paris 1952.
ACO Acta Conciliorum O ecumenicorum, ed. by E. Schwartz, Berlin 1914 seqq.
ActaSS Acta Sanctorum, ed. Bollandus etc. (Antwerp, Brussels, Tongerloo) Paris 1643
seqq., Venice 1734 seqq., Paris 1863 seqq.
ACW Ancient Christian Writers, ed. by J. Quasten and J. C. Plumpe, Westminster,
Md.-London 1946 seqq.
ADipl Archiv fiir Diplomatik, Schriftgeschichte, Siegel- und Wappenkunde, Miin-
ster-Cologne 1955 seqq.
Aegyptus Aegyptus, Rivista Italiana di Egittologia e Papirologia, Milan 1920 seqq.
AElsKG Ardjiv fiir elsassische Kirchengeschichte, publ. by the Gesellschaft fur elsassische
Kirchengeschichte, ed. by J. Brauner, Rixheim im Oberelsass 1926 seqq.; since
1946 ed. by A. M. Burg, Strasbourg.
AGG Abhandlungen der Gesellschaft der Wissenscbaften zu Gottingen (after Series
III, 27,1942: AAG), Gottingen 1843 seqq.
AH Analecta Hymnica, ed. by G. Dreves and C. Blume, 55 vols., Leipzig
1886-1922.
AHVNrh Annalen des Historischen Vereins fiir den Niederrhein, insbesondere das alte
Erzbistum Kdln, Cologne 1855 seqq.
AkathKR Archiv fiir katholisches Kirchenrecht, (Innsbruck) Mainz 1857 seqq.
AKG Archiv fiir Kulturgeschichte, (Leipzig) Munster and Cologne 1903 seqq.
Altaner B. Altaner, Patrology, Freiburg-London-New York, 2nd imp. 1960.
ALW Archiv fiir Liturgiewissenschaft (formerly ]LW), Regensburg 1950 seqq.
AnBoll Analecta Bollandiana, Brussels 1882 seqq.
ANF Ante-Nicene Fathers (Buffalo Collection) 1804-86.
AnGr Analecta Gregoriana cura Pontificiae Universitatis Gregorianae edita, Rome
1930 seqq.
X lll
LIST OF ABBREVIATIONS
ANL Ante-Nicene Christian Library (Edinburgh Collection) 1866-72.

AnzAW Anzeiger der Oesterreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, Vienna 1864
seqq.
AQG Archiv jiir osterreichische Geschichte, Vienna 1865 seqq.
APhilHistOS Annuaire de Vinstitut de Philologie et d’Histoire Orientales et Slaves,
Brussels 1932 seqq.
APraem Analecta Praemonstratensia, Tongerloo 1925 seqq.
ArSKG Archiv fiir schlesische Kirchengeschichte, publ. by K. Englebert, I-VI,
Breslau 1936-41, VII ff., Hildcsheim 1949 seqq.
ARW Archiv fiir Religionswissenschaft (Freiburg i. Br., Tubingen), Leipzig 1898
seqq.
AST Analecta Sacra Tarraconensia, Barcelona 1925 seqq.
ATh Vannee theologique, Paris 1940 seqq.
AttiPontAc A tti della Pontificia Accademia Romana di Archeologia, Rome 1923 seqq.
AuC F. J. Dolger, Antike und Christentum, I-VI and supplementary vol., Munster
1929-50.
AUF Archiv fiir LJrkundenforschung, Berlin 1908 seqq.
Augustiniana Augustiniana. Tijdschrift vor de studie van Sint Augustinus en de Augu-
stijneorde, Louvain 1951 seqq.
AZ Archivalische Zeitschrift, Munich 1876 seqq.
BA The Biblical Archaeologist, New Haven, Conn. 1938 seqq.

BAC Biblioteca de Autores Cristianos, Madrid 1945 seqq. (138 vols. so far issued).
Bachtold-Staubli H. Bachtold-Staubli, Handworterbuch des deutschen Aberglaubens,
10 vols., Berlin-Leipzig 1927 seqq.
Bardenhewer O. Bardenhewer, Geschichte der altkirchlichen Literatur, 5 vols., Freiburg i.Br.
1902 seqq.
Bauer W. Bauer, Griechisch-Deutsches Worterbuch zu den Schriften des Neuen
Testaments und der iibrigen urchristlichen Literatur, Berlin, 5th ed. 1957.
Bauerreiss R. Bauerreiss, Kirchengeschichte Bayerns, I-V, St. Ottilien 1949-55.
Baumstark A. Baumstark, Geschichte der syrischen Literatur mit Ausschlufl der christ-
lich-paldstinensischen Texte, Bonn 1922.
BECh Bibliotheque de VEcole des Chartres, Paris 1839 seqq.
Beck H.-G. Beck, Kirche und theologische Literatur im Byzantinischen Reich;
Munich 1959.
Bedjan Acta Martyrum et Sanctorum (syriace), ed. by P. Bedjan, 7 vols., Paris
1890-7.
BHG Bibliotheca hagiographica graeca, ed. socii Bollandiani, Brussels, 3rd ed. 1957.
BHL Bibliotheca hagiographica latina antiquae et mediae aetatis, ed. socii Bollan
diani, 2 vols., Brussels 1898-1901; Suppl. editio altera, Brussels 1911.
BHO Bibliotheca hagiographica orientalis, ed. by P. Peeters, Brussels 1910.
Bibl Biblica, Rome 1920 seqq.
BIFAO Bulletin de Vinstitut franqais d’Archeologie Orientale, Cairo 1901 seqq.
Bijdragen Bijdragen. Tijdschrift voor Filosofie en Theologie, Nijmegen 1938 seqq.
BJ Bursians Jahresbericht iiber die Fortschritte der klassischen Altertumswissen-
schaft, Leipzig 1873 seqq.
BJRL The Bulletin of the John Rylands Library, Manchester 1903 seqq.
BKV Bibliothek der Kirchenvdter, ed. by O. Bardenhewer, T. Schermann (after
vol. 35, J. Zellinger) and C. Weymann, 83 vols., Kempten 1911 seqq.
BLE Bulletin de litterature ccclesiastique, Toulouse 1899 seqq.
BollAC Bollettino di archeologia cristiana, ed. by G. B. de Rossi, Rome 1863-94.
XIV
Brehier L. Brehier, Le monde byzantin, I-III, Paris 1947-50.

BThAM Bulletin de Theologie Ancienne et Medievale, Louvain 1929 seqq.
ByZ Byzantinische Zeitschrift, Leipzig-Munich 1892 seqq.
By 2 (B) Byzantion, Brussels 1924 seqq.
ByzNGrJb Byzantinische-Neugriechische Jahrbiicher, Athens-Berlin 1920 seqq.
BZ Biblische Zeitschrift, Freiburg i. Br. 1903-24; Paderborn 1931-9, 1957 seqq.
BZThS Bonner Zeitschrift fiir Theologie u. Seelsorge, Dusseldorf 1924-31.
CahArch Cahiers Archeologiques. Fin de VAntiquite et Moyen-age, Paris 1945 seqq.

Cath Catholica. Jahrbuch fiir Kontroverstheologie, (Paderborn) Munster 1932 seqq.
CathEnc The Catholic Encyclopedia, ed. by C. Herbermann et al. 15 vols., New York
1907-12; index vol. 1914, supplementary vol. 1922.
Catholicisme Catholicisme, Hier — Aujourd’hui — Demain, ed. by G. Jacquemet, Paris
1948 seqq.
CBQ The Catholic Biblical Quarterly, Washington 1939 seqq.
CChr Corpus Chrisiianorum, seu nova Patrum collectio, Turnhout-Paris 1953
seqq.
CH Church History, New York-Chicago 1932 seqq.
Chalkedon Das Konzil von Chalkedon. Geschichte u. Gegenwart, ed. by A. Grillmeier
and H. Bacht, I-III, Wurzburg 1951-4.
ChQR The Church Quarterly Review, London 1875 seqq.
CHR The Catholic Historical Review, Washington 1915 seqq.
CIG Corpus Inscriptionum Graecarum, begun by A.Boeckh, continued by J. Franz,
E. Curtius and A. Kirchhoff, 4 vols., Berlin 1825-77.
C1L Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum, ed. by the Berlin Academy, Berlin 1863
seqq.
CivCatt La Civilta Cattolica, Rome 1850 seqq. (1871-87 Florence).
CIP Clavis Patrum Latinorum, ed. by E. Dekkers, Steenbrugge, 2nd ed. 1961.
COH Het Christelijk Oosten en Hereniging, Nijmegen 1949 seqq.
CSCO Corpus scriptorum christianorum orientalium, Paris 1903 seqq.
CSEL Corpus scriptorum ecclesiasticorum latinorum, Vienna 1866 seqq.
CSL Corpus scriptorum latinorum Paravianum, Turin.
CT Concilium Tridentinum. Diariorum, Actorum, Epistularum, Tractatuum nova
Collectio, edidit Societas Goerresiana promovendis inter Catholicos Germaniae
Litterarum Studiis, 13 vols. so far, Freiburg i. Br. 1901 seqq.
Denzinger H. Denzinger, Enchiridion Symbolorum, Defmitionum et Declarationum de

rebus fidei et morum, Freiburg i. Br., 31st ed. 1960.
DA Deutsches Archiv fiir Erforschung des Mittelalters (1937-43: fiir Geschichte
des Mittelalters, Weimar), Cologne-Graz 1950 seqq. (cf. AM).
DACL Dictionnaire d’archeologie chretienne et de liturgie, ed. by F. Cabrol and
H. Leclercq, Paris 1924 seqq.
DBS Dictionnaire de la Bible, Supplement, ed. by L. Pirot, cont. by A. Robert,
Paris 1928 seqq.
DDC Dictionnaire de droit canonique, ed. by R. Naz, Paris 1935 seqq.
Delehaye OC H. Delehaye, Les origines du culte des martyrs, Brussels, 2nd ed. 1933.
Delehaye PM H. Delehaye, Les passions des martyrs et les genres litteraires, Brussels 1921.
Delehaye S H. Delehaye, Sanctus. Essai sur le culte des saints dans lyantiquite, Brussels,
2nd ed. 1954.
DHGE Dictionnaire d'histoire et de geographie ecclesiastiques, ed. by A. Baudrillart
et al., Paris 1912 seqq.
XV
Diehl E. Diehl, Inscriptiones christianae latinae veteres, 3 vols., Berlin, 2nd ed.
1961.
Dolger Reg Corpus der griechischen Urkunden des Mittelalters und der neueren Zeit.
Reihe A, Abt. 1: Regesten der Kaiserurkunden des ostromischen Reiches, ed.
by F. Dolger.
DomSt Dominican Studies, Oxford 1948 seqq.
DOP Dumbarton Oaks Papers, ed. Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass. 1941
seqq.
DSAM Dictionnaire de Spiritualite ascetique et mystique. Doctrine et Histoire, ed.
by M. Viller, Paris 1932 seqq.
DTh Divus Thomas (before 1914: Jahrbuch fur Philosophic und spekulative
Theologie; from 1954 Freiburger Zeitschrift fur Theologie und Philosophic),
Fribourg.
DThC Dictionnaire de theologie catholique, ed. by A. Vacant and E. Mangenot,
cont. by E. Amann, Paris 1930 seqq.
Duchesne LP Liber Pontificalis, ed. by L. Duchesne, 2 vols., Paris 1886-92.
DVfLG Deutsche Vierteljahresschrift fur Literaturwissenschaft und Geistesgeschichte,
Halle 1923 seqq.
ECatt Enciclopedia Cattolica, Rome 1949 seqq.

EE Estudios ecclesiasticos, Madrid 1922-36, 1942 seqq.
Ehrhard A. Ehrhard, Vberlieferung und Bestand der hagiographischen und homileti-
schen Literatur der griechischen Kirche von den Anfdngen bis zum Ende des
16. Jh. (TU 50-52), I-III, Leipzig 1937-52.
ELit Ephemerides Liturgicae, Rome 1887 seqq.
EO Echos d’Orient, Paris 1897 seqq. (from 1946 REB).
Eranos Eranos-Jahrbuch, Zurich 1933 seqq.
EstB Estudios Biblicos, Madrid 1941 seqq.
EtB Etudes Bibliques, Paris 1907 seqq.
EThL Ephemerides Theologicae Lovanienses, Bruges 1924 seqq.
Euseb. HE Eusebius, Historia Ecclesiastica (to 324) ed. by E. Schwartz (GCS 9, 1-3)
Berlin 1903-9.
Evagrius HE Evagrius Scholasticus, Historia Ecclesiastica (431-594), ed. by J. Bidez and
L. Parmentier, London 1898.
FC The Fathers of the Church, New York 1947 seqq.

FF Forschungen und Fortschritte, Berlin 1925 seqq.
FKDG Forschungen zu Kirchen- und Dogmengeschichte, Gottingen 1953 seqq.
Fliche-Martin Histoire de I’eglise depuis les origines jusqu’a nos jours, ed. A. Fliche and
V. Martin, Paris 1935 seqq.
FlorPatr Florilegium Patristicum, ed. by J. Zellinger und B. Geyer, Bonn 1904 seqq.
Gams P. Gams, Series episcoporum ecclesiae catholicae, Regensburg 1S73; supple

ment ibid. 1879-86.
Garcia-Villada Z. Garcia-Villada, Historia eclesiastica de Espaha, 2 vols., Madrid 1929.
GCS Die griechischen christlichen Schriftsteller der ersten drei Jahrhunderte, Leip
zig 1897 seqq.
Gelas.HE Gelasius, Historia Ecclesiastica, ed. by G. Loeschke und M. Heinemann
(GCS 28) Berlin 1918.
GhellinckP J. de Ghellinck, Patristique et Moycn Age. Etudes d'histoire littcraire et
doctrinale, I, Paris, 2nd ed. 1949,11—III, Brussels 1947-8.
XVI
Gn Gnomon. Kritische Zeitschrift fiir die gesamte klassische Altertumswissen-

schaft (Berlin) Munich 1925 seqq.
Gr Gregorianum, Rome 1920 seqq.
Grumel Reg V. Grumel, Les Regestes des actes du patriarcat de Constantinople, Kadikoi-
Bucharest 1/1 1932,1/2 1936, 1/3 1947.
GuL Geist und Leben. Zeitschrift fur Aszese und Mystik (to 1947, ZAM), Wurz
burg 1947 seqq.
Hanssens J. M. Hanssens, Institutions liturgicae de Ritibus Orientalibus, I-V, Rome

1930 seqq.
Hamack DG A. von Hamack, Lehrbuch der Dogmengeschichte, 3 vols., Tubingen, 4th ed.
1909 seq. (photographic reprint, Tubingen, 5th ed. 1931 seq.).
Hamack Lit A. von Harnack, Geschichte der altchristlichen Literatur, 3 vols., Leipzig
1893-1904.
Harnack Miss A. von Harnack, Die Mission u. Ausbreitung des Christentums in den
ersten drei Jahrhunderten, 2 vols., Leipzig, 4th ed. 1924.
Hauck A. Hauck, Kirchengeschichte Deutschlands, I-IV, Leipzig 1906-14, V 1929,
I-V, Berlin-Leipzig 8th ed. 1954.
HAW Handbuch der Altertumswissenschaft, founded by I. von Muller, newly ed.
by W. Otto, Munich 1929 seqq.; new ed. 1955 seqq.
HDG Handbuch der Dogmengeschichte, ed. by M. Schmaus, J. Geiselmann, A.
Grillmeier, Freiburg i. Br. 1951 seqq.
HE Historia Ecclesiastica.
Hcfele-Leclercq Histoire des Conciles d’apres les documents originaux, by C. J. Hefele,
translated by H. Leclercq, I-IX, Paris 1907 seqq.
Hennecke- Schneemelcher Neutestamentliche Apokryphen in deutscher Ubersetzung,
Founded by E. Hennecke, ed. by W. Schneemelcher, I-II, Tubingen, 3rd ed.
1959-64.
Hermes Hermes. Zeitschrift fiir klassische Philologie, Berlin 1866 seqq.
HJ Historisches Jahrbuch der Gorres-Gesellschaft (Cologne 1880 seqq.), Munich
1950 seqq.
HNT Handbuch zum Neuen Testament, founded by H. Lietzmann (now ed. by
G. Bornkamm), 23 parts, Tubingen 1906 seqq.
HO Handbuch der Orientalistik, ed. by B. Spuler, Leiden 1948 seqq.
HThR The Harvard Theological Review, Cambridge, Mass. 1908 seqq.
HZ Historische Zeitschrift, Munich 1859 seqq.
IER The Irish Ecclesiastical Record, Dublin 1864 seqq.

IKZ Internationale Kirchliche Zeitschrift, Berne 1911 seqq.
IThQ The Irish Theological Quarterly, Dublin 1864 seqq.
]A Journal Asiatique, Paris 1822 seqq.

JbAC Jahrbuch fiir Antike und Christentum, Munster 1858 seqq.
JBL Journal of Biblical Literature, published by the Society of Biblical Literature
and Exegesis, Boston 1881 seqq.
Jdl Jahrbuch des Deutschen Archdologischen Instituts, Berlin 1886 seqq.
JEH The Journal of Ecclesiastical History, London 1950 seqq.
Jerphanion G. de Jerphanion, La voix des monuments, I-II, Paris 1932-8.
JLH Jahrbuch fiir Liturgik und Hymnologie, Kassel 1955 seqq.
JLW Jahrbuch fiir Liturgiewissenschaft, Munster 1921-41 (now ALW).
jOByzG Jahrbuch der osterreichischen Byzantinischen Gesellschaft, Vienna 1951 seqq.
X V II
JQR The Jewish Quarterly Review, Philadelphia 1888 seqq.

JRS The Journal of Roman Studies, London 1910 seqq.
JSOR Journal of the Society of Oriental Research, Chicago 1917-32.
JThS The Journal of Theological Studies, London 1899 seqq.
Jugie M. Jugie, Theologia dogmatica Christianorum orientalium ab ecclesia cath-
olica dissidentium, I-V, Paris 1926-35.
K C. Kirch-L. Ueding, Enchiridion fontium historiae ecclesiasticae antiquae,

Freiburg i. Br., 8th ed. 1960.
Karst G J. Karst, Litterature georgienne chretienne, Paris 1934.
Katholik Der Katholik, Mainz 1821 seqq. (General index for 1821-89).
KIT Kleine Texte, ed. by H. Lietzmann, Berlin 1902 seqq.
Konig H Christus u. die Religionen der Erde. Handbuch der Religionsgeschichte, ed.
by F. Konig, I-III, Vienna, 2nd ed. 1956.
Kraus RE F. X. Kraus, Real-Encyclopadie der Christlichen Altertiimer, 2 vols., Frei
burg i. Br. 1882-6.
Krumbacher K. Krumbacher, Geschichte der byzantischen Literatur, Munich 1890; 2nd
ed. by A. Ehrhard and H. Gelzer, Munich 1897.
KuD Kerygma und Dogma, Gottingen 1955 seqq.
Kiinstle K. Kiinstle, Ikonographie der christlichen Kunst, I, Freiburg i. Br. 1928; II,
Freiburg i. Br. 1926.
Lanzoni F. Lanzoni, Le Diocesi d’Italia dalle origini al principio del secolo VII,
2 vols., Faenza, 2nd ed. 1927.
Lebreton J. Lebreton, Histoire du dogme de la Trinite, I-II, Paris, 4th ed. 1928.
Lietzmann H. Lietzmann, Geschichte der alten Kirche, I, Berlin 2nd ed. 1937 (3rd ed.
1953), II-IV 1936-44 (2nd ed. 1953).
LJ Liturgisches Jahrbuch, Munster 1951 seqq.
LNPF A Select Library of Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers (Buffalo and New York
1886-90).
LQ Liturgiegeschichtliche Quellen, Munster 1918 seqq.
LThK Lexikon fur Theologie und Kirche, ed. by J. Hofer and K. Rahner, Frei
burg i. Br., 2nd ed. 1957 seqq.
LuM Liturgie und Monchtum. Laacher Hefte, (Freiburg i. Br.) Maria Laach 1948
seqq.
MAH Melanges d’archeologie et d’histoire, Paris 1880 seqq.

Mai B Nova Patrum bibliotheca, I-VII by A. Mai, Rome 1852-7; VIII-X by
J. Cozza-Luzi, Rome 1871-1905.
M aiC A. Mai, Scriptorum veterum nova collectio e vaticanis codicibus edita, 10
vols., Rome 1815-38.
Mai S A. Mai, Spicilegium Romanum, 10 vols., Rome 1839-44.
MAMA Monumenta Asiae Minoris Antiqua. Publications of the American Society
for Archeological Research in Asia Minor, 7 vols., Manchester 1928-56.
Manitius M. Manitius, Geschichte der lateinischen Literatur des Mittelalters, Munich,
I 1911, II 1923, III 1931.
Mansi J. D. Mansi, Sacrorum conciliorum nova et amplissima collectio, 31 vols.,
Florence-Venice 1757-98; new impression and continuation ed. by L. Petit
and J. B. Martin in 60 vols., Paris 1899—1927.
MartHieron Martyrologium Hieronymianum, ed. by H. Quentin and H. Delehaye
(ActaSS Nov. II, 2), Brussels 1931.
XV111
MartRom Martyrologium Romanum, ed. by H. Delehaye, Brussels 1940.

MCom Miscelanea Comillas, Comillas- Santander 1943 seqq.
MD Maison-Dieu, Paris 1945 seqq.
MF Miscellanea francescana, Rome 1886 seqq.
MG Monumenta Germaniae Historica inde ab a. C. 500 usque ad a. 1500; indexes
by O. Holder-Egger and K. Zeumer, Hanover-Berlin 1826 seqq. Sections:
MGAuctant Auctores antiquissimi.
MGSS Scriptores.
MiscMercati Miscellanea Giovanni Mercati, 6 vols., Rome 1946.
MiscMohlberg Miscellanea Liturgica in honorem L. Cuniberti Mohlberg, Rome 1948.
Moricca U. Moricca, Storia della Letteratura latina cristiana, 3 vols. in 5 tomes, Turin
1924-34.
MSR Melanges de science religieuse, Lille 1944 seqq.
MThZ Miinchener theologische Zeitschrijt, Munich 1950 seqq.
Muratori L. A. Muratori, Rerum italicarum scriptores ab anno aerae christianae 500
ad 1500, 28 vols., Milan 1723-51; continuation by Tartini 1748-70. andN. G.
Mittarelli 1771; new ed. by G. Carducci and V. Fiorini, Citt^ di Castello
1900 seqq.
Museon Le Museon, Louvain 1881 seqq.
NA Neues Archiv der Gesellschaft fiir dltere deutsche Geschichtskunde zur Be-
forderung einer Gesamtausga.be der Quellenschriften deutscher Geschichte
des Mittelalters, Hanover 1876 seqq. (from 1937, DA).
NAG Nachrichten von der Akademie der Wissenschaften in Gottingen (till 1940,
NGG), Gottingen 1941 seqq.
N BollAC Nuovo Bollettino di archeologia cristiana, Rome 1895-1923 (Continuation
of BollAC).
NC Nouvelle Clio. Revue mensuelle de la decouverte historique, Brussels 1947
seqq.
Nilles N. Nilles, Kalendarium manuale utriusque ecclesiae orientalis et occidentalis,
2 vols., Innsbruck, 2nd ed. 1896 seq.
N ovT Novum Testamentum, Leiden 1956 seqq.
NRTh Nouvelle Revue Theologique, Tournai-Louvain-Paris, 1879 seqq.
NTS New Testament Studies, Cambridge-Washington 1954 seqq.
NZSTh Neue Zeitschrijt fiir Systematische Theologie, Berlin 1959 seqq.
OrChr Oriens Christianus, (Leipzig) Wiesbaden 1901 seqq.

OrChrA Orientalia Christiana (Analecta), Rome (1923-34: Orientalia Christiana;
1935 seqq: Orientalia Christiana Analecta).
OrChrP Orientalia Christiana Periodica, Rome 1935 seqq.
OrSyr UOrient Syrien, Paris 1956 seqq.
OstKSt Ostkirchliche Studien, Wurzburg 1951 seqq.
OxP The Oxyrhynchos Papyri, London 1898 seqq.
Pauly-Wissowa Paulys Realencyklopadie der klassischen Altertumswissenschaft, new ed.

by G. Wissowa and W. Kroll (with K. Mittelhaus), Stuttgart 1893 seqq.
PG Patrologia Graeca, ed by J.-P. Migne, 161 vols., Paris 1857-66.
Philostorgius HE Philostorgius, Church History (down to 425), ed. by J. Bidez (GCS 2),
Berlin 1913.
PhJ Philosophisches Jahrbuch der Gorres-Gesellschaft, Fulda 1888 seqq.

Pitra A J. B. Pitra, Analecta sacra Spicilegio Solesmensi parata, 8 vols., Paris
1876-91.
Pitra S J. B. Pitra, Spicilegium Solesmense, 4 vols., Paris 1852-8.
PL Patrologia Latina, ed. by J.-P. Migne, 217 vols. and 4 index vols., Paris
1878-90.
POR Patrologia Orientalis, ed. by J. GrafFin and F. Nau, Paris 1903 seqq.
PrOrChr Le Proche-Orient chretien, Jerusalem 1951 seqq.
PS Patrologia Syriaca, ed. by R. GrafFin, 3 vols., Paris 1894-1926.
PSI Papiri greci e latini della Societa Italiana, Florence 1912 seqq.
QFIAB Quellen und Forschungen aus italienischen Archiven und Bibliotheken, Rome
1897 seqq.
Quasten P J. Quasten, Patrology, Utrecht-Brussels, I 1950, II 1953, III 1960.
R M. J. Rouet de Journel, Enchiridion Patristicum, Freiburg i. Br., 19th ed.

Raby Chr F. J. E. Raby, A History of Christian Latin Poetry, OxFord, 2nd ed. 1953.
RAC Reallexikon fiir Antike und Christentum, ed. by T. Klauser, Stuttgart 1941
(1950)seqq.
RAM Revue d'ascetique et de mystique, Toulouse 1920 seqq.
RB Revue biblique, Paris 1892 seqq.; new series since 1914.
RBen Revue benedictine, Maredsous 1884 seqq.
RD M. J. Rouet de Journal and J. Dutilleul, Enchiridion asceticum, Freiburg
i. Br., 5th ed. 1958.
REA Revue des Etudes Anciennes, Bordeaux 1899 seqq.
REB Revue des Etudes byzantines (Continuation of EO), Paris 1946 seqq.
REG Revue des Etudes Grecques, Paris 1888 seqq.
REL Revue des Etudes latines, Paris 1923 seqq.
RET Revista Espanola de teologia, Madrid 1941 seqq.
RevEAug Revue des Etudes Augustiniennes (Continuation of L'Annee Theologique
Augustinienne), Paris 1955 seqq.
RevSR Revue des Sciences Religieuses, Strasbourg 1921 seqq.
RGG Die Religion in Geschichte und Gegenwart, Tubingen 1909-13; 2nd ed.
1927-32; 3rd ed. 1956 seqq.
RH Revue historique, Paris 1876 seqq.
RHE Revue d'histoire ecclesiastique, Louvain 1900 seqq.
RHEF Revue d'histoire de I'eglise de France, Paris 1910 seqq.
RHLR Revue d'histoire et de litterature religieuses, Paris 1896-1907.
RhMus Rheinisches Museum fiir Philologie, Bonn 1833 seqq.
RHPhR Revue d'histoire et de philosophic religieuses, Strasbourg 1921 seqq.
RHR Revue de I'histoire des religions, Paris 1880 seqq.
RicRel Ricerche Religiose, Rome 1925 seqq.
Righetti M. Righetti, Manuale di storia liturgica, Milan, I: Introduzione generale,
2nd ed. 1950; II: L’anno liturgico. II Breviario, 2nd ed. 1955; III: L’Euca-
ristica sacrificio e sacramento, 1949; IV: Sacramenti — Sacramentali, 1953.
RivAC Rivista di archeologia cristiana, Rome 1924 seqq.
RM Mitteilungen des Deutschen Archdelogischen Instituts, Romische Abteilung,
Rome 1886.
ROC Revue de I'Orient chretien, Paris 1896 seqq.
RPAA Rendiconti della Pontificia Accademia Romana di Archeologia, Rome 1923
seqq.
XX
RQ Romische Quartalschrift fiir christliche Altertumskunde and fiir Kirchen-

geschichte, Freiburg i. Br. 1887 seqq.
RQum Revue de Qumran, Paris 1958 seqq.
RSO Rivista degli studi orientali, Rome 1908 seqq.
RSPhTh Revue de sciences philosophiques et theologiques, Paris 1907 seqq.
RSR Recherches de science religieuse, Paris 1910 seqq.
RSTI Rivista della storia della chiesa in Italia, Rome 1947 seqq.
RThAM Recherches de Theologie anciennne et medievale, Louvain 1929 seqq.
Rufin. HE Rufinus of Aquileia, Translation of Eusebius’s Church History, ed. by T.
Mommsen in GCS 9, Berlin 1909.
SA Studia Anselmiana, Rome 1933 seqq.

SAB Sitzungsberichte der Deutschen (till 1944: Preussischen) Akademie der
Wissenschaften zu Berlin. Phil-hist. Klasse, Berlin 1882 seqq.
Saeculum Saeculum. Jahrbuch fiir Universalgeschichte, Freiburg i. Br. 1950 seqq.
SAH Sitzungsberichte der Heidelberger Akademie der Wissenschaften. Phil.-hist.
Klasse, Heidelberg 1910 seqq.
SAM Sitzungsberichte der Bayerischen Akademie der Wissenschaften. Phil.-hist.
Abt., Munich 1871 seqq.
SAW Sitzungsberichte der (after 225, 1, 1947: Osterreichischen) Akademie der
Wissenschaften in Wien, Vienna 1831 seqq.
SC Scuola Cattolica, Milan 1873 seqq.
SCpr Scriptores christiani primaevi. The Hague 1946 seqq.
SE Sacris Erudiri. Jaarboek voor Godsdienstwetenschapen, Bruges 1948 seqq.
Seeberg R. Seeberg, Lehrbuch der Dogmengeschichte, Leipzig, I-II, 3rd ed. 1922
seqq.; Ill, 4th ed. 1930; IV, 1, 4th ed. 1933; IV, 2, 3rd ed. 1920 (I-IV
new impression, Basle 1953-4).
SO Symbolae Osloenses, ed. by the Societas Graeco-Latina, Oslo 1922 seqq.
Socrates HE Socrates, Historia Ecclesiastica (305-439), ed. by R. Hussey, 3 vols., Oxford
1853.
SourcesChr Sources chretiennes, ed. by H. de Lubac and J. Dani^lou, Paris 1941 seqq.
Sozom. HE Sozomen, Historia Ecclesiastica (324-425), ed. by J. Bidez and G. C. Hansen
in GCS 50, Berlin 1960.
Speculum Speculum. A Journal of Medieval Studies, Cambridge, Mass. 1926 seqq.
SQS Sammlung ausgewdhlter Kirchen- and dogmengeschichtlicher Quellen-
schriften, Tiibingen 1893 seqq.
StC Studia Catholica, Roermund 1924 seqq.
SteT Studi e Testi, Rome 1900 seqq.
StrP Stromata Patristica et Medievalia, ed. by C. Mohrmann and J. Quasten,
Utrecht 1950 seqq.
StTh Studia Theologica, cura Ordinum Theologicorum Scandinavicorum edita,
Lund 1948 seqq.
StudiBiz Studi Bizantini e Neoellenici, Rome 1925 seqq.
StudGen Stadium Gene rale. Zeitschrift fiir die Einheit der Wissenschaften im
Zusammenhang ihrer Begriffsbildung and Forschungsmethoden, Berlin-
Gottingen-Heidelberg 1948 seqq.
Sulp.Sev.Chron Sulpicius Severus, World Chronicle (to 400), ed. by C. Halm (CSEL 1),
Vienna 1866.
TD Textus et Documenta, Series Theologica, Rome 1933-5.

ThBl Theologische Blatter, Leipzig 1922 seqq.
xxi
Theodoret HE Theodoret, Historia Ecclesiastica, ed. by L. Parmentier, 2nd ed. by

F. Scheidweiler GCS 44 (19) Berlin 1954.
ThJ Theologische Jahrbiicher, Leipzig 1842 seqq.
ThLL Thesaurus Linguae Latinae, Leipzig 1900 seqq.
ThLz Theologische Literaturzeitung, Leipzig 1878 seqq.
ThQ Theologische Quartalschrift, Tubingen 1819 seqq.; Stuttgart 1946 seqq.
ThR Theologische Rundschau, Tubingen 1897 seqq.
ThRv Theologische Revue, Munster 1902 seqq.
ThSt Theological Studies, Baltimore 1940 seqq.
ThW Theologisches Worterbuch zum Neuen Testament, ed. by G. Kittel, cont.
by G. Friedrich, Stuttgart 1933 seqq.
ThZ Theologische Zeitschrift, Basle 1945 seqq.
Tixeront L. J. Tixeront, Histoire des dogmes dans Tantiquite chretienne, 3 vols., Paris,
11th ed. 1930.
Tr Traditio, New York 1943 seqq.
TSt Texts and Studies, ed. Armitage Robinson, Cambridge 1891.
TThZ Trierer Theologische Zeitschrift (till 1944: Pastor Bonus), Trier 1888 seqq.
TU Texte und Untersuchungen zur Geschichte der altchristlichen Literatur.
Archiv fur die griechisch-christlichen Schriftsteller der ersten drei Jahr-
hunderte, Leipzig-Berlin 1882 seqq.
Tiichle H. Tiichle, Kirchengeschichte Schwabens, I-II, Stuttgart 1950-4.
Ueberweg F. Ueberweg, Grundriss der Geschichte der Philosophic, Berlin, I, 12th ed.
1926 by K. Praechter; II, 11th ed. 1928 by B. Geyer; III, 12th ed. 1924 by
M. Frischeisen-Kohler and W. Moog; IV, 12th ed. by K. Osterreich 1923; V,
12th ed. by K. Oesterreich 1928.
VigChr Vigiliae Christianae, Amsterdam 1947 seqq.

ViVr Buâvxiva Xpovixa. Vizantiyskiy Vremennik, St Petersburg 1894 seqq.
VS La Vie Spirituelle, (Liguge, Juvisy) Paris 1869 seqq.
Wattenbach-Levison W. Wattenbach, Deutschlands Geschichtsquellen im Mittelalter,

Vorzeit und Karolinger, vols. I-III ed. by W. Levison and H. Lowe,
Weimar 1952-7.
Wilpert G. Wilpert, I Sarcofagi cristiani antichi, 3 vols., Rome 1929-36.
Zacharias Rhetor Zacharias Rhetor, Church History (circa 450-540), ed. by E. W. Brooks,
CSCO 83-84, Paris 1919-21.
ZAM Zeitschrift fur Aszese und Mystik (from 1947 GuL), (Innsbruck, Munich)
Wurzburg 1926 seqq.
ZBIB Zentralblatt fur Bibliothekswesen, Leipzig 1884 seqq.
ZBLG Zeitschrift fur Bayerische Landgeschichte, Munich 1928 seqq.
ZDMG Zeitschrift der deutschen morgenlandischen Gesellschaft, Leipzig 1847 seqq.
ZDPV Zeitschrift des deutschen Palastina-Vereins, Leipzig 1878 seqq.
ZKG Zeitschrift fur Kirchengeschichte, (Gotha) Stuttgart 1878 seqq.
ZKTh Zeitschrift fiir Katholische Theologie, (Innsbruck) Vienna 1877 seqq.
ZMR Zeitschrift fiir Missionswissenschaft und Religionswissenschaft, vols. 34 ff.
Munster 1950 seqq. (Zeitschrift fiir Missionswissenschaft, 1-17, Munster
1911-27; Zeitschrift fur Missionswissenschaft und Religionswissenschaft,
18-25, Munster 1928-35; Zeitschrift fiir Missionswissenschaft, lb-27, Munster
1935-7; Missionswissenschaft und Religionswissenschaft, 28-33, Munster
1938-41, 1947-9).
xxii
ZMkRd Zeitschrift fiir Missionskunde und Religionswissenschaft, Berlin 1884 seqq.

ZNW Zeitschrift fiir die neutestamentliche Wissenschaft und die Kunde der dlteren
Kirche, Giessen 1900 seqq., Berlin 1934 seqq.
ZRGG Zeitschrift fiir Religions- und Geistesgeschichte, Marburg 1948 seqq.
ZSavRGkan Zeitschrift der Savigny-Stiftung fiir Rechtsgeschichte, Kanonistische Ab-
teilung, Weimar 1911 seqq.
ZSavRGrom Zeitschrift der Savigny-Stiftung fiir Rechtsgeschichte, Romanistische Ab-
teilung, Weimar 1880 seqq.
ZSKG Zeitschrift fiir Schweizer Kirchengeschichte, Fribourg 1907 seqq.
ZThK Zeitschrift fiir Theologie und Kirche, Tubingen 1891 seqq.
GENERAL IN T R O D U C T IO N
TO C H U R C H HISTORY
I. The Subject Matter, Methods, Ancillary Sciences, and Divisions

of Church History, and its Relevance for Today
The Subject Matter

C h u r c h history treats of the growth in time and space of the Church
founded by Christ. Inasmuch as its subject matter is derived from and
rooted in the Faith, it is a theological discipline; and in this respect it
differs from a history of Christianity. Its theological point of departure,
the idea of the Church, must not however be understood as though it were
based on the structure of the Church as revealed in her dogma: a kind
of preconceived pattern which history must follow and demonstrate,
limiting or hindering the empirical establishment of facts based on
historical sources. It refers solely to the Church’s divine origin through
Jesus Christ, to the hierarchic and sacramental order founded by Him,
to the promised assistance of the Holy Spirit and to the eschatological
consummation at the end of the world: the very elements, in fact, in
which her essential identity consists, namely her continuity in spite of
changing outward forms. The image of the “ship of the Church”, sailing
fully rigged and unchanged over the ocean of the centuries, is less apt
than the comparison made by Vincent of Lerins wherein he compares it
with the growth of the human body and of the seed which is sown, a
growth “which involves no injury to its peculiar qualities nor alteration
of its being” (Commonitorium, c. 29). As the grain of wheat germinates
and sprouts, produces stalk and ear, yet always remains wheat, so does
the Church’s nature manifest itself in changing forms during the course
of history, but remains always true to itself.
The historical character of the Church rests ultimately on the Incar
nation of the Logos and Its entry into human history. It rests, above all,
on the fact that Christ willed his Church to be a society of human
1
GENERAL INTRODUCTION TO CHURCH HISTORY
beings, the “people of God” under the leadership of men: the apostolic
college, the episcopate and the papacy. Thus He made her dependent on
human actions and human weakness; but He has not left her entirely
to her own devices. Her suprahistorical, transcendent entelechy is the
Holy Spirit, who preserves her from error, produces and maintains
holiness within her, and can testify to His presence by the performance
of miracles. His presence and working in the Church, like those of grace
in the individual soul, can be inferred from historically comprehensible
effects, but belief in them is also necessary; and it is in the co-operation
of these divine and human factors in time and space that Church history
has its origin.
The understanding and interpretation of Church history depend then
ultimately on the notion which a writer holds of the Church. To the
philosophers of the Enlightenment, the Church appeared as a “natural
society which exists alongside many others in the State” ; 1 according to
their view the Church is indeed “founded by God, but God’s spirit did
not dwell in her” : rather is she dominated by men. J. Mohler2 opposed
this anthropocentric conception with his own theocentric view, and
defined Church history as “the series of developments of the principle of
light and life imparted to men by Christ, in order to unite them once more
with God and to make them fit to glorify him”. Later, at the close of the
nineteenth century, the fashion in historical writing required that Church
history should be merged in secular history, that the ecclesiastical historian
should become a profane historian,3 and Albert Ehrhard then introduced
the term “historical theology”. He defined the task of the general Church
historian as “the investigation and presentation of the actual course of the
history of Christianity, in its organized manifestation as a Church,
through all the centuries of its past, in the whole of its duration in time
and in all aspects of its life”. 4
The beginning and end of Church history rest on a theological basis.
It does not begin with the Incarnation, or even the choosing and sending
forth of the apostles, but with the descent of the Holy Spirit on the
primitive community at the first Pentecost;5 and it ends with the Second
Coming of our Lord. Within these chronological limits it has for its subject
all the manifestations of the Church’s life. These may be divided into
external and internal factors: the former being the spread of the Church
1 E. Sager, Die Vertretung der Kirchengeschichte in Freiburg (Freiburg i. Br. 1952), 68.
* J. A. Mohler, Ges. Schriften und Aufsatze, ed. J. J. I. Dollinger, II (Regensburg 1840),
272.
8 R. Fester, “Die Sakularisation der Historic”, HV 11 (1908), 441-59.
4 Festschrift S. Merkle (Diisseldorf 1922), 122.
5 H. Zimmermann, “Ober das Anfangsdatum der Kirchengeschichte” in AKG 41 (1959),
1-34.
2
through the whole world, her relations with the non-Christian religions
and the separated Christian communions and her relations with the State
and society; the latter being the development and establishing of her
dogma in the struggle against heresy, aided by the science of theology, the
proclaiming of the Faith by preaching and teaching. To these internal
activities must be added the fulfilling of her sacramental nature by the
celebration of the liturgy and the administration of the sacraments,
together with the preparation for these by pastoral care and their effect
in works of Christian charity. Finally, there is the development of the
Church’s organization as a supporting framework for the fulfilment of
the offices of priest and teacher, as well as the irradiation by the Church’s
work of every sphere of cultural and social life.
That the conception of the Church is fundamental for the definition of
the subject and purpose of Church history is clear if we compare the
notions of the Church as defined by non-Catholic ecclesiastical historians.
Church history cannot be conceived in the Hegelian sense as the dialectical
movement of an idea (F. C. Baur), for the Church is not only a divine
idea but also an historical fact. Its subject is not merely the “Church of the
Word” (W. von Loewenich), the “history of the interpretation of Holy
Scripture” (G. Ebeling), “the history of the Gospel and its effects in the
world” (H. Bornkamm), or the Church as we find it in the New Testament
(W. Delius): all these definitions being derived from the Protestant idea
of the Church. Of the more recent definitions by Protestant historians the
nearest to ours are those of K. D. Schmidt, for whom the Church is
“ Christ continuing to work in the world, His Body which is led by the
Holy Spirit to all truth and whose history is wholly God’s work, but also
wholly man’s”, and of J. Chambon, who speaks of “the history of the
Kingdom of God on earth”. These later definitions safeguard the character
in Church history as a theological discipline, but they are still influenced
by the underlying Protestant conception of the Church, inasmuch as this
is determined in the case of Schmidt by the writings of Luther, and in
that of Chambon by the Calvinist doctrine of the Church.
The Methods of Church History
In fulfilling its task, Church history makes use of the historical method,
whose application to the subject as defined above, namely the Church of
faith which is also the visible Church, suffers no limitations arising from
the subject itself. But it can sometimes lead to tensions between faith or
theological postulates (which are identified with faith), on the one hand,
and positively or apparently established historical fact, on the other;
and this may confront the ecclesiastical historian with difficult decisions.
The scientific honesty of Church history is not thereby affected: it is
3
both theology and historical science in the strict sense; and the application
of the historical method to it is carried out in three stages.
Firstly, like all history, Church history is bound by its sources. It can
reveal about events and conditions in the past only what it finds in its
sources, correctly interpreted: so much and no more. The sources (monumen
tal and written remains, literary sources) must be sought out, tested for their
genuineness, edited in accurate texts and investigated for their historical
content. The first object of historical research thus conducted is the estab
lishment of dates and facts which form the framework of all history.
Without the knowledge of these, every further step (the tracing of origins,
the determining of intellectual relationships and the evaluation of
information) becomes unreliable or sinks to the level of mere conjecture.
Only through the accessibility of the sources and by their critical study has
Church history since the seventeenth century developed into a science. On
this level of research, Church history is indebted for many important
results to scholars outside the Church who do not acknowledge its
character as a theological discipline. Even the denominational point of
view is hardly noticeable here.
But, in the second stage, the causal connexion of the facts related,
research into the motives of individuals and consequent judgments on
ecclesiastical personalities, the assessment of spiritual and religious
movements and of whole periods: all these go beyond the mere establish
ment of facts, and are based on presuppositions and standards of value
which cannot be derived from history itself, yet cannot be separated from
it. The recognition of human freedom of decision prevents the creation of
determinist historical laws. Historical causality must remain open to the
intervention and co-operation of transcendent factors; the possibility of
extraordinary phenomena (such as mystical phenomena and miracles) must
not be excluded a priori. The concepts which Church history has created
or adopted for grouping together facts and religious or intellectual currents
are based on judgments of value, especially when terms such as “Golden
Age”, “Decline”, “Abuse” or “Reform” are used. The standards for
judging persons and events must not be those of our own time, but
must be adapted to the period in the Church’s historical development
with which we are dealing. Human failure and human sin are not in this
way made relative, nor is human responsibility removed. There are
historical guilt and historical merit; but the judgment of history is not a
sentence pronounced upon the Church’s past.
The historian’s philosophical and religious point of view will demand
respect at this second stage, that of historical presentation, if he is at
pains to achieve the highest degree of objectivity and impartiality.
Conflicts with philosophical systems, such as historical materialism,
Spengler’s biological view of history, or sociological schools of historical
4
writing, are not part of the Church historian’s task. It is, however,
inevitable that these will influence not only judgments but also the
selection of material and the literary form. The forms of presentation most
frequently used today are the biography, the monograph and the essay.
The biography seeks to understand a person of historical significance both
as an individual and as a point of intersection of the forces at work in
his period; if it is to achieve anything more than a statement of the bare
facts and dates, personal utterances must also be included, derived from
such sources as letters and diaries. The monograph, confined to a particular
time and place, may deal with a period (as Duchesne and Lietzmann
treated of the primitive Church, and H. von Schubert of the early Middle
Ages), a single country (as Hauck wrote on the Church history of
Germany, G. Villada on that of Spain, and Tomek on that of Austria)
or a diocese; with institutions such as the papacy and the religious orders,
events such as the General Councils, or religious and intellectual move
ments (as Borst wrote on the Cathari, and Maass on Josephinism).
Alongside the strictly scientific monograph, the essay has in recent times
become of increasing importance. It aims in the most concise and perfect
literary form to interpret the essential character of historical persons
and events, and to make this knowledge available to a wider reading
public, but dispenses with sources and bibliographical references.
Yet, in the third and final stage, Church history as a whole can be
understood only as the history of salvation: its ultimate meaning can be
apprehended only by the eye of faith. It is the abiding presence of the
Logos in the world and the fulfilment, in the "people of God”, of Christ’s
community, in which ministry and grace work together. It is the growth
of the Body of Christ: not a continuous falling away from the ideal of the
early Church, as some would have us believe; nor yet a continuous
progress, as the men of the Enlightenment imagined. The growth of the
Church is sometimes hindered through internal or external causes; she
suffers sickness, and experiences both reverses and periods of renewed
vitality. She does not appear as the Bride without spot or stain, as those
who believe in a purely "spiritual” Church in all ages have fondly thought
her to be, but covered with the dust of centuries, suffering through the
failures of men and persecuted by her enemies. Church history is therefore
the theology of the Cross. Without injury to her essential holiness, the
Church is not perfect: semper reformanda, she is in constant need of
renewal. Although she is never to be superseded in the world of space and
time by a “spiritual” church, she retains a provisional character and awaits
perfection. When that goal is attained, in the Parousia, the path she has
travelled during the course of history will be fully illuminated, the true
meaning of all events will be understood and the finally valid judgments
of human guilt and merit will be made. Only at the end of the world
5
will the history of the Church, profane history and the history of salvation
merge into one.
Ancillary Sciences of Church History

Church history makes use of the same ancillary sciences as general history,
just as it makes use of the same methods. Chronology, epigraphy, palaeog
raphy, diplomatics, the use of archives and libraries, heraldry: all these are
of practical importance; and so too in a wider sense are geography, cartog
raphy, and statistics. For a detailed treatment of these sciences, see the
bibliography at the back of the book.
The Divisions of Church History

The divisions of Church history cannot be based on abstract historico-
philosophical categories, any more than on the divine plan of salvation,
whose details remain unknown, though its outlines are given in Revelation.
They cannot be dependent on the relationship between the Church and
her milieu, for "the Catholic Church is not identified with any civiliza
tion”. 6 Any division into periods which corresponds with the facts and
facilitates our understanding of them must take into consideration this
truth: the inward and outward growth of the Church, brought about by
the Holy Spirit in co-operation with human free will, is achieved by her
constantly coming to terms with civilization. In her spreading over the
whole earth and in her penetration of mankind and civilizations, peoples
and societies, the Church makes use of the historical circumstances and she
adapts herself to them: Church history is something midway between
universal history and history of salvation.7
Division into periods became a problem only when the patterns of
medieval historiography and the annalistic method of the Centuriators and
Baronius had been superseded. The usual threefold division into Antiquity,
the Middle Ages, and Modern Times, popularized since the seventeenth
century by Cellarius (Christoph Keller), was adopted comparatively
recently, by Mohler,8 and has never become universal. A division that is
convincing in all respects and generally accepted has not yet been found.
If one considers primarily the unity of the Church and regards as epoch-
making the breaking away of sects which followed the councils of the
fifth century, the Greek Schism, and the Protestant Reformation, one
6 “The Catholic Church does not identify herself with any civilization” : Pius XII in his
address to the Tenth International Congress of Historians on 7 September 1955.
7 O. Kohler in HJ 77 (1958), 257.
8 K. Heussi, Alter turn, Mittelalter und Neuzcit in der Kirchengescbichtc (Tubingen 1921),
18 f.
6
ignores no less important events inside the Church, her expansion and her
relations with civilization. The end of the old Canon Law (discussed by
R. Sohm) and the rise of the papacy after the eleventh century are, from
the constitutional point of view, the great dividing line; but all other
viewpoints cannot be left out of account. The fourfold division adopted in
this book seems to embrace the whole phenomenon of the Church through
out the changing ages, and to take into consideration both internal and
external factors of development.
1. The expansion and formation of the Church in the Hellenistic Roman world.
Growing outward from her native Jewish soil, the Church spread within
the area of Hellenistic-Roman civilization over the whole Roman Empire
and beyond its frontiers in the East, officially unrecognized and repeatedly
persecuted until the time of Constantine, and then during the fourth century
as the Church of the Empire. Her hierarchical system of government was
organized with reference to the divisions of the Empire, the ecumenical
councils were imperial councils; the primacy of the bishop of Rome did
not infringe the extensive autonomy of the eastern patriarchates. After
the rise of the Greek apologists in the second century, Christianity came
to terms with the culture and religion of the East and the Hellenistic
world, made use of Greek philosophy at the first four councils in the
formulation of her trinitarian and christological dogmas, and employed
forms of expression taken from Antiquity in her worship and art. As a
consequence of the christological disputes, the national churches beyond
the eastern frontiers of the Empire separated themselves from the imperial
Byzantine church, while Germanic Christian kingdoms of both Arian
(Ostrogothic and Visigothic) and Roman (Frankish) observance were
formed in the western Empire. The rise of the specifically Roman Church
of Gregory the Great and the Arab invasions of the seventh century
marked the turning-point: the flourishing churches of North Africa and
Syria withered away, and the Germano-Roman West became estranged
from Byzantium.
2. The Church as the entelechy of the Christian nations of the West: a .d . 700-1300.
While the Greek church concentrated on the preservation of the traditions

of primitive Christianity, the acceptance of the Catholic faith of the
Roman Church by the Franks and the Anglo-Saxons, the consequent
“germanizing” of Christianity and the alliance of the papacy with the
Frankish empire in the eighth century created the only possibility of
permeating with the Christian spirit the Germano-Roman nations (to the
community of which were now added the converted western Slavs),
encircled as they were by Islam and only loosely connected with
Byzantium, and of passing on to them the treasures of ancient civilization.
7
The prevailing form of government in the feudal structure of society,

which the Church found already existing and did not itself create, was
the theocratic kingship of the renewed Western Empire, until, from the
mid-eleventh century, the papacy, revitalized by the Gregorian reforms,
rose through repeated conflicts with the secular power (most notably in
the Investiture Controversy and in the struggles with the Hohenstaufen
emperors Frederick I and Frederick II) to a position of dominating power
and arbiter of the West, creating the Roman Curia as the instrument of
the Church’s central government. But the Church, as a result, became
increasingly involved in power-politics and thus entangled with “the
World”. A more individual and highly subjective piety drove liturgical,
objective devotion into the background; scholastic philosophy and Canon
Law projected a Christian system of thought and order, not uniform
indeed, but complete in its main outlines, which was developed at
the universities.The mendicant orders of the thirteenth century took up
the idea of poverty and devoted themselves principally to pastoral work
in towns. Russia’s attachment to Byzantium, as well as the Eastern Schism,
increased the isolation of the West; the Crusades enlarged its horizons;
the Mongol invasion made possible a temporary breach in the encircling
wall of Islam and missionary attempts in the Far East. Boniface VIII,
in conflict with Philip the Fair, formulated a theory of the papacy that
was conditioned by the times, but was defeated by the catastrophe of
Anagni.
3. The break-up of the western Christian world; reforms and Reformation; the transition
to world-wide missionary activity.
The universalism of the two highest powers faded before the rise of the
national states of western Europe. The unity of the Church, threatened by
the Schism, was restored at the Council of Constance. Philosophical unity
was lost through Nominalism, and the Church’s monopoly of education
through the spread of Humanism. Within the feudal social order the
bourgeois culture of the cities and the beginnings of Capitalism confronted
the Church with new problems which were never satisfactorily solved.
The Church, so much in need of reform, became herself a problem, as
the writings of Marsiglio of Padua and Wycliffe and the Conciliar
Movement bear witness. The “Reformers”, Luther, Zwingli, and Calvin,
claimed to bring at last the long-demanded reform, and separated all
northern Europe and part of central Europe from the papacy. After the
Council of Trent the Church opposed the Protestant Reformation with a
Catholic Reform, renewed her religious life and was even able in the
Counter-Reformation to win back lost territory. Missions in newly-
discovered America and Asia enlarged the sphere of her activities. With
the dying-down of denominational conflicts the secularization of the
8
European mind began; the papacy was unable to assert itself against the
absolutist states. Western thought was no longer guided by the Church
in the period of the so-called Enlightenment; and Revolution and
secularization broke the external forms inherited from feudal times.
4. The world-wide Church in the industrial age.

The development of the Church in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries
shows three recognizable tendencies. One trend involves the separation of
the Church from the laicized State, the accentuation of the contrast
between Christian and modern thought, together with an evolution to
constitutional and democratic forms of government, the encouragement of
lay activity at all social levels by means of modern methods of influencing
the masses (as through trades-unionism and the press) and the taking up
of the social question by the Church. A further tendency is seen in the
intensification of religious life by means of the liturgical movement, the
lay apostolate and new forms of pastoral work, and new religious
orders. And, in a third context, the definitions of the First Vatican
Council concerning the primatial power of the pope assured the
latter’s position within the Church, while the loss of the Temporal
Power marked the beginning of an increase in his religious and moral
authority over the Church’s members. Through the world-wide missionary
activity, which in the nineteenth century followed colonial expansion and
in the twentieth began to detach itself from colonialism and European
connexions, the Church became in fact a world religion and was forced
to come to terms with the others (most notably with Buddhism, Hinduism,
and Islam) and with atheistic Communism. At the same time she began to
encourage efforts towards the re-establishment of Christian unity.
The Relevance of Church History for Today

Church history is not the Church’s cabinet of antiquities; it is her under
standing of herself and therefore an integral part of ecclesiology. He who
studies the development and growth of the Church in the light of faith
enters into her divine-human nature, understands her as she is, not as
she ought to be, learns to know the laws by which she lives and himself
gains a clear view of her from within; his sentire Ecclesiam becomes sentire
cum Ecclesia, and he will stand fast in every crisis. A prerequisite of this
pragmatic way of writing Church history must of course be a strictly
scientific investigation and an impartial presentation of the facts. If these
tasks are carried out, Church history can and must draw conclusions that
will be important for the understanding of the present day and modern
problems. The history of the general councils throws light upon the
present council, for this is but the most recent link in a long chain. The
9
student of earlier attempts at reunion gains a view of ecumenical strivings

which is balanced and free from illusions. The history of religious orders
is more than the history of individual orders: these are branches on the
tree of the Church, witnesses to the element of grace that is active within
her and responses to the questions that face her in every age. When
missionary history is concerned with the problems of adaptation and
europeanization, it is making an important contribution towards a defini
tion of the relations between civilization and the Church. Church history
makes clear the original meaning of ecclesiastical institutions and opens
the eyes to the need for reform: the question of the liturgy is an example
of this.
In any case: “We cannot understand the Church at the present day if
we have not first understood the whole of the Christian past.” 9 To limit
Church history to what is at present alive in the Church, or what is
thought to be so, would be a form of pragmatism which, though indispen
sable as a principle of teaching, is unacceptable as a foundation for
research and for the presentation of facts, inasmuch as it would endanger
the scientific character of historical writing. Nevertheless, Church history
is constantly being faced with the problems of the present day, as in the
discussions about an ecumenical council or in the questions raised by the
ecumenical movement. The value of Church history for religious education
lies in the fact that it opens up the rich possibilities of the Christian life,
and faces squarely the problems of the human element in the Church, of
power, of sin and failure. But it can only achieve its object if it is
presented in its entirety, not merely in summaries of religious history or
in extracts of an apologetic nature. In its completeness it is the Church’s
most effective apologia; without it a purified love of the visible Church
is hardly conceivable.
The ecclesiastical historian must have not only,, like every historian,
“a love of history” (J. G. Droysen), he must also bring to his task
“Christian feeling and a Christian spirit” ;10 that is, he must first have the
Faith in order to explain it, and then he becomes “the interpreter of the
working of the Holy Ghost upon earth”. 11 He does not passively let the
Church’s past move before his eyes like a cinema film, because he is
conscious that, as its interpreter, he is taking an active part in it. His
relation to Church history is determined by his point of view within the
Church; his faith is not prejudicial to his inner freedom in the search for
truth and his will to judge impartially men and events. His metahistorical
standard excludes relativist writing, but not the writing of true history.
9 J. A. Mohler, op. cit. II, 287. 10 J. A. Mohler, op. cit. II, 282.
11 J. Sporl, Grundformen hochmittelalterlicher Geschichtsanschauungen (Munich 1935),
20.
10
11. The Writing and Study of Church History
The Writing of Church History: its Beginning in Antiquity

“ T he sense of history, which was comparatively active when the Gospels
and the Acts of the Apostles described the work of Christ and his apostles,
remained almost without expression in the period when the Church was
developing out of Christ’s revelation and was acquiring its historical
character, in the midst of struggles and persecutions” (Altaner). Amid a
flood of apocryphal writings and legends, the genuine and ancient Acts of
the Martyrs bear witness to this historical sense, in such sources as the
Martyrium Polycarpi, the Acts of St Justin Martyr and of the Scillitani.
So also do the historical accounts which the apologists, like Hegesippus
and Irenaeus, inserted to support their proofs of Christianity. Somewhat
later, attempts were made in the “World Chronicles” of Sextus Julius
Africanus1 (f post 240) and Hippolytus of Rome2 (f 235) to fit the histor
ical facts of the Incarnation and the rise and growth of the Church into
profane and Old Testament history. The World Chronicle of Eusebius
of Caesarea (f 339), published in 303, was, in the free Latin version by
Jerome, to set the pattern of this type of Christian historiography for
more than a thousand years.
But it was Eusebius’s Ecclesiastical History (’ExxXY)<7t.a<mx7] ur-Topta)
which made him the “Father of Church History”. Published in its original
form in seven books before the Diocletian persecution, it was afterwards
continued down to 324 to include later events and enlarged to ten books.
At the outset the author states his plan as follows: “I have decided to give
an account in writing of the successors of the holy apostles and of the
times that have gone by from the days of our Redeemer to ours; of the
great and numerous events in the history of the Church, of all the excellent
leaders and heads of the most respected congregations, of all those who
have served the Word of God whether by speaking or writing; of the
number and the times of those persons who, out of a desire for novelty,
have allowed themselves to be led astray by the worst of errors, and have
then proclaimed themselves as guides to a new wisdom which is no
wisdom, like ravening wolves who rush without pity on Christ’s flock;
furthermore, of the fate that befell the Jewish people after their crime
against our Saviour, and of the numerous grievous attacks to which the
Word of God was exposed at the hands of the pagans; of the heroes who
again and again fought for the Faith amid tortures and bloodshed, and
1 The surviving fragments are in PG 10, 63-94.

2 The World Chronicle has been ed. by A. Bauer and R. Helm (Berlin, 2nd ed. 1955)
GCS 46; cf. LThK V, 379 f.
11
finally of the witnesses to the Faith in our own days and of the ever-
gracious, ever-loving mercy of our Redeemer.”
In accordance with this programme (and making use also of the
uncanonical sources Philo and Flavius Josephus), Eusebius describes in
roughly chronological order the activities of Jesus and the apostles as well
as the post-apostolic period: these matters are dealt with in Books I-III.
Following these, Books IV—VII contain lists of bishops of the apostolic
churches of Rome, Antioch and Jerusalem; but they also give an account
of the heresies that arose, of the great ecclesiastical writers, and of
persecutions by Jews and pagans. Books VIII and IX are devoted to “the
persecution of our days”; and Book X to the victory of Christianity under
Constantine. This last part has a supplementary account of the martyrs of
Palestine and the laudatory life of Constantine by the same author.
Eusebius in his history of the Church was “still unable to give an account
that showed clearly the relation of cause and effect” (Altaner). However,
by getting away from the eschatological viewpoint, he was the first to
venture on a “solitary and untrodden path”, to demonstrate in the history
of Christ’s chosen “people of God” the victory of God over the Devil
and to “edify his readers” (III, 24). Because of his transcription of
numerous documents and the excerpts he gives from writings now lost
(such as those of Papias), Eusebius’s work is by far the most important
historical source for the first three centuries. The documents and the
lists of bishops are fitted into the chronological framework of the emperors’
reigns; the literary form follows the example of profane history, but it
is written with “no mean skill” (E. Schwartz); its original contribution is
its metaphysical basis.
Eusebius was followed by three continuators who all treat more or
less of a common period. Socrates (f 439), a lawyer of Constantinople,
groups the ecclesiastical events of the years 305-439 around the great
emperors; he uses good sources, is less involved than his predecessor in
theological conflicts, and is therefore more impartial; above all, he is more
lenient towards heretics. Sozomen, who was also a lawyer of Constan
tinople and who knew Socrates, was superior to the latter in literary
skill but not in reliability or critical powers; in his presentation of events
in the period 324-425 (dealt with in detail only to 421), his own point
of view is kept entirely in the background. Theodoret of Cyrus, on the
other hand, writes as a supporter of the Antiochian school and is often
silent about the defects of his heroes; but, a versatile writer, he could
describe events perceptively and vividly. In his account of the years
323-428 he has included many synodal decisions and letters, as well as
other documents, though he is sometimes cursory and inexact in his
chronology. Evagrius Scholasticus (t 600), with his Ecclesiastical History,
is the successor to the three continuators of Eusebius already mentioned.
12
He relates from a strictly orthodox but truthloving point of view the

christological disputes of the period 432-594.
The three continuations in Greek of Eusebius’s History were put together
and extended to 527 by Theodorus Lector, whose work, however, only
survives in an epitome. The later Byzantine chroniclers (such as Theo-
phanes Confessor and Xantopulos) borrowed from his work. The chronicle
written by the Monophysite John of Nikiu is important for the
seventh century; it is written in Coptic but survives only in Ethiopian. The
later Byzantine historiographers, although in the first place treating of
State history, also recorded the theological disputes, particularly Georgios
Pachymeres (f 1310) and Nikephoros Gregoras (f 1359-60).
The Latin Church meanwhile took over from the Greek historians.
A Latin version of Eusebius’s Ecclesiastical History was made in 403
by Rufinus of Aquileia, who added two more books, for which perhaps
(according to Heseler) the lost history of the Church by Gelasius of
Caesarea served as a pattern. Cassiodorus arranged for the monk
Epiphanius to translate into Latin the three continuators of Eusebius and,
on the model of an already-existing Greek work by Theodorus Lector, to
combine them into an Historia tripartita. Rufinus’s version and the
Historia tripartita became the basic ecclesiastical histories of the Middle
Ages. The various subjects dealt with by Eusebius soon came to be treated
separately. Between 374 and 377 Epiphanius of Salamis collected together
eighty heresies in his “Medicine Chest” (Ilavaptov).3 In 392 Jerome
published the first catalogue of Christian writers, comprising 135 names,
which was augmented c. 480 by the semi-Pelagian Gennadius, and in the
seventh century by Isidore of Seville and Ildefonsus of Toledo.4 In the
fourth century, lists of bishops began to be compiled, not with traditional
dates but with regnal years worked out by reckoning backwards: such
were the list of bishops of Jerusalem given by Epiphanius (66, 19 f.) and
the catalogue of Roman bishops in the chronicle of 354;5 the earliest
version of the Liber Pontificalis (down to Felix IV, 526-30) dates from
the sixth century.
In both East and West the collecting of synodal canons concerning
ecclesiastical discipline began in the second half of the fourth century.
The oldest extant Greek collection is the systematically arranged collection
of Johannes Scholasticus, compiled c. 550. In the West, that of Dionysius
Exiguus dates from 500, and was the first of a long series of similar
3 Ed. K. Holl, 3 vols. (Berlin 1915, 1921, 1933) GCS 25, 31, 37; Altaner 367 f.
4 De viris illustribus, PL, 23, 631-760; the new ed. by G. Herding (Leipzig 1924) also
contains the continuation of Gennadius. For Isidore of Seville, see PL, 83, 1081-106; for
Ildephonsus of Toledo, PL, 96, 195-206; cf. Altaner 10.
5 Ed. by T. Mommsen, MGAuctant IX, 13-196; for list of Roman bishops, ibid., 73-76; cf.
RAC II, 407-15 (L. Koep).
13
collections.6 The oldest Acts of an ecumenical council to be preserved are

those of Ephesus (431). Optatus of Mileve, between 330 and 347, collected
documents to serve as a history of the Donatist heresy; and in 417
Augustine edited an account of the origins of the Pelagian dispute. To the
second half of the sixth century belongs a collection made at Rome of
letters of popes and emperors, which is known as the Collectio Avellana
from the place where it was found.
Christian biography of the pre-Constantinian period was aimed
primarily at edification. Examples of this kind are the Life of Cyprian
by Pontius, that of Antony by Athanasius, that of Macrina by Gregory of
Nyssa, the Vita Ambrosii by Paulinus and the Vita Augustini by Possidius.
In the monastic biographies of Palladius which appeared in the East and
in the Historia Lausiaca, the historical account is overshadowed by
demonism and miracle seeking.
The influence which Eusebius’ Ecclesiastical History exercised on later
histories of the Church through Rufinus’ version and the Historia
tripartita has been noted above. In a similar fashion Eusebius’ World
Chronicle, in Jerome’s version, influenced later histories of the world and
of salvation. Of less worth were the short “World Chronicles” of Sulpicius
Severus (down to 400) and Prosper of Aquitaine (to 455); the Chronicon
of Isidore of Seville (to 615) attained a higher reputation. But far more
important for the historical thought of the Middle Ages than these
collections was Augustine’s De chitate Dei in twenty-four books, written
in the period 413-26. Herein, the City of God, equated with the Church
as a sacramental fellowship, is in incessant conflict with the Civitas
terrena, which is not identified with any particular State, not even the
Roman. The struggle between faith and disbelief is in this context the
main theme of world history, conceived as the history of man’s salvation.
Like Augustine’s De civitate Dei, the almost contemporaneous Historiae
adversus paganos of Paulus Orosius provide an apologia for Christianity;
he seeks to prove that Christianity is not responsible for the disasters of
the age.
The history of the world and of salvation is usually divided according
to one of two basic plans, though these show many variations. With
reference to Psalm 89:4, which says that a thousand years are as a day in
God’s sight, and by analogy with the six days of Creation, history had
been divided in Jewish Messianic writings into six millenia, which the
Messianic kingdom was to follow as the seventh. Justin Martyr and
Irenaeus had taken over this division and interpreted it chiliastically: the
6 PL, 67, 139-316; for all older collections, C. Turner’s Ecclesiae occidentalis monumenta
juris antiquissimi, 3 vols. (Oxford 1899-1913) is still fundamental; cf. also E. Schwartz,
“Die Kanonessammlungen der alten Reichskirche” in ZSavRGkan 25 (1936), 1-114.
14
world will be consummated in as many "days” as were spent in its

creation; after the year 6000 the thousand-year reign of Christ on earth
will follow. Hippolytus and Lactantius converted the eschatological schema
into a chronological one, which forms the basis of Jerome’s World
Chronicle and was also known to Augustine. Here, moreover, we find a
parallel with the six ages of man (infantia, pueritia, adolescentia, juventus,
gravitas, and senectus) and the threefold division from the viewpoint of
human salvation: ante legem, sub lege, and sub gratia. The doctrine of
the six ages of the world (aetates mundi) was bequeathed to the Middle
Ages by Jerome and Augustine via Isidore of Seville and Bede’s De sex
aetatibus mundi.
The second schema divides worl<J history according to the four empires:
the Assyrian-Babylonian, the Persian, the empire of Alexander and the
Roman Empire. This schema also is of non-Christian origin (it was used
in the time of Augustus by Pompeius Trogus); but it was incorporated
into Christian thought by Jerome with reference to the prophet Daniel
(2:36ff.): the christianized Roman Empire will, as the last of the world-
empires, remain until the end of the world. Sleidan clung to this view
as late as the sixteenth century.
The Writing of History in the Middle Ages:

Christian History, not Church History
Eusebius’s Ecclesiastical History found no imitators throughout the Middle
Ages, even though the expression "Church history” occurs occasionally
from the twelfth century onwards. During the transitional period the
subjects of Christian historical writings are not the Church as such, but the
christianized Germanic peoples and, later, monasteries, bishoprics, and
saints. The medieval chronicler and annalist, in so far as he is not
continuing the chronicle of Jerome, usually augments his account of
contemporary events with information taken over uncritically from
earlier authors, intended to serve as general historical background. He is
concerned with world history and religious history, but not Church
history. Three historians of the transitional period stand out: the Roman
Gregory of Tours (f 594) with his History of the Franks (to which is
appended a short history of the bishops of Tours), the history of that
people being regarded as the victory of the True Faith;7the Visigoth Isidore
of Seville (f 636),8 with his Chronica Majora down to 615 (and in a
second version to 625), famous also for his literary history, the
7 Historiarum libri X, ed. R. Buchner, 2 vols. (Darmstadt 1955); Wattenbach-

Levison, I, 99-108.
8 MGAuctant XI, 391-506; Wattenbach-Levison, I, 86 ff.
15
Etymologies, and his History of the Visigoths; the Anglo-Saxon Bede the
Venerable (f 735) with his Historia Ecclesiastica gentis Anglorum, in
which he shows how his people “became the Church of Christ”.9 Through
his De sex aetatihus mundi and his method of calculating Easter, Bede
became “the teacher of the whole of the Middle Ages” (Levison).
The “Christian era” established by Dionysius Exiguus in the Easter
table of 532, which fixed Christ’s birth in the year 754 ab urbe condita
as the central point of time, marks in the field of chronology the triumph
of the school which saw human history as the history of salvation. World
history begins with man’s creation by God, follows the human race in its
God-directed course under the Old and New Covenants, and finally
relates the history of the Kingdom of Christ on earth, in which the
Christian State and the Church form one body containing both good
and evil men, until at the end of time the Lord will separate the former
from the latter and the New Jerusalem will become a reality. The
amalgamation of the concept of the Kingdom of God with the Church
had for its result that the Middle Ages did indeed produce Christian
history, but not Church history in the modern sense of the term:
“Ecclesiastical historiography takes up the whole historical field” (Zimmer-
mann). By the climax of the Middle Ages this kind of historical writing
had developed three literary forms: the world chronicle, annals, and
biography.
The numerous world chronicles not only draw their material about
early periods from the chronicles of Eusebius and Jerome, and their
continuators, but also retain the view of history established in the post-
Constantinian “imperial” Church: the regnal years of the emperors form
the chronological framework into which the succession of popes and other
secular or ecclesiastical events are fitted. The closer they come to the
author’s own period, the more frequent are the events narrated from
personal knowledge and the higher the value of the chronicles as sources.
The Chronicon of Regino of Priim provides a typical example:10 starting
from the birth of Christ, it is a mere compilation to the reign of Louis the
Pious; but from there till its conclusion in 906 it becomes a good source
for the late Carolingian period. The Chronicon Augiense of Hermann the
Lame of Reichenau (f 1054),11 which reflects the many-sided knowledge
9 Ed. C. Plummer, 2 vols. (Oxford 1896), I, 73: “nostrum gentem . . . Christi fecit
Ecclesiam”; W. Levison: “Bede as Historian” in Aus rheinischer und frankischer Frith-
zeit (Dusseldorf 1948), 347-82.
10 Ed. F. Kurze (Hanover 1890); H. Lowe, “Regino von Priim und das historische
Weltbild der Karolingerzeit” in Rhein. Vierteljahresblatter 17 (1952), 151-79, new off
print in Lammers (ed.), Ausgewahlte Aufsatze und Arbeiten aus den Jahren 1933-1959
(Darmstadt 1961), 91-134.
11 MGSS V, 67-133; R. Buchner, “Geschichtsbild und Reichsbegriff bei H. von R. in
AKG 42 (1960), 27-60.
16
of its author, is pre-eminent for its careful use of older models; and in its
later part it develops into a history of the Empire. Sigebert of Gembloux
takes pains in his prosaic and summary chronicle (finished before 1105)
to arrange the events of imperial and ecclesiastical history in correct
chronological order, and bases his work on a wealth of source material.12
Frutolf of Michelsberg and Ekkehard of Aura make use of him in their
chronicle, one of the masterpieces of medieval historiography, which
extends to 1106 and 1125, and contains valuable information on the
Investiture Dispute. Otto of Freising (f 1185), the greatest German
historian of the Middle Ages, does indeed indicate in the title of his
w ork13 that Augustine, not Eusebius through Jerome, was his master. For
him the Empire is only “the shadow of a great name” ; he believes in the
realization of the Civitas Dei in a Christian empire, and addresses himself
with his eschatological outlook more to the religious reader than to the
enquiring historian.14
The primary concern of the annalists, when they were not officially
employed in writing State annals, was the recording of events, whether
known by tradition or from personal experience, which affected their own
diocese or abbey. If through family or personal relationships they were
involved in matters of more general importance, their range of vision
was widened, as in the case of Thietmar of Merseburg (f 1018). Diocesan
annals were compiled in episcopal cities which, through their schools,
took part in the flourishing intellectual life of the age of the Saxon and
Salian emperors, as did Hildesheim, Magdeburg, Liege, and Trier. But
few of these can be ranked as histories, save perhaps the history of the
church of Rheims by Flodoard (f c. 966) and the Gesta Hamma-
burgensis ecclesiae pontificum by Adam of Bremen (f 1081), the best part
of which is the biography of Archbishop Adalbert of Bremen.15 Obit
books and necrologies, in which dates of death are noted in the calendar,
12 MGSS VI, 300-74; Manitius III, 344 ff.

18 Chronicon sive Historia de duabus civitatibus, ed. A. Hofmeister (Hanover-Berlin,
2nd ed. 1912); Manitius III, 376-88; H. M. Klinkenberg, “Der Sinn der Chronik Ottos
von Freising”, Festschrift G. Kallen (Bonn 1957), 63-76; E. Meuthen, “Der ethische
Charakter der civitates bei Augustinus und ihre platonische Fehldeutung”, ibid., 43-62;
J. Koch, “Die Grundlagen der Geschichtsphilosophie Ottos von Freising” in MThZ 4
(1953), 79-94, reprinted in Lammers, op. cit. 321-49; O. von Fr„ Gedenkgabe zu seinem
800. Todesjahr (Freiburg i. Br. 1958), with contributions by J. Sporl, J. Staber etc.
14 “Sic de utraque dicere proposuimus, ut tenorem hystoriae non omittamus, quatinus et
religiosus auditor, quid in mundanis rebus ob innumeras mutationum miserias abhorren-
dum sit, animadvertat ac studiosus seu curiosus indagator non confusam rerum preteritarum
seriem inveniat” : Hofmeister’s ed., 9.
15 Flodoard, MGSS XIII, 404-599. Adam of Bremen: B. Schmeidler (Hanover-Berlin,
3rd ed. 1917); there is a rather unsatisfactory interpretation in M. Misch, Geschichte der
Autobiographic (Frankfurt 1955-62), III, 1, 251-61.
17
owe their origin to the desire to include founders and benefactors in

the community of prayer and sacrifice; and the lists kept in many
monasteries, such as Fulda and St Blasien, show a continuous record of
the deaths of inmates and benefactors.
In the Vita or biography, which is usually but not invariably the life
of a saint, the main purpose is edification. The Vitae of extraordinary
men are designed to serve as examples of virtue, and their nearness to
God is demonstrated by miracles. Virtues and miracles are therefore their
main theme. This tendency, together with the use made of classical or
Christian models (including Suetonius, Sallust, and Sulpicius Severus), by
no means excludes concrete facts with definite literary intentions. Ruotger,
in his Life of Bruno of Cologne (written in 967-9), portrays a bishop
of the Empire as he ought to be;16 abbot Norbert of Iburg, in his Life of
Bishop Benno of Osnabriick (written between 1090 and 1108), does not
conceal his subject’s human weaknesses, so that the reader may therefore
pray for the soul of the abbey’s founder. The Life of Anselm of Canter
bury by Eadmer (composed soon after the saint’s death in 1109) is based
on information supplied by Anselm himself and on an intimate knowledge
of his personality: his holiness is illustrated not by miracles, but by his
constant fidelity to the monastic ideal. From the thirteenth century,
hagiographical literature came under the influence of the collections of
exempla compiled with a view to preaching. Such is the Life of Engelbert
of Cologne by the Cistercian Caesarius of Heisterbach, which shows a clear
relationship with the same author’s collections of exempla.17 The Vitae
of the great founders of orders, such as St Francis of Assisi, owe their
origin to the desire of the orders to possess a model picture of their
founders.
The reform movement of the eleventh century and the Investiture
Dispute seem to have provided a new impulse to the writing of Church
history, perhaps even to mark a turning-point. The struggle for the
independence of the spiritual power, against lay domination, once more
made the Church as such a subject for historiography. In the literature of
reform the primitive Church appears as the ideal towards which the
Church of the present, her clergy and monks, must strive: that is, not
16 Ed. I. Ott (Weimar 1951, new impression 1958); F. Lotter, Die Vita Brunonis des
Ruotger (Bonn 1958). A new impression of H. Bresslau’s ed. of the genuine Vita Bennonis
(1902) also appeared in 1956. For Eadmer see M. Misch, Geschichte der Autobiographic,
(Frankfurt 1955-62), III, 1, 215-61.
17 The old ed. of the Dialogus miraculorum by J. Strange (2 vols., Cologne 1851) has
been supplied with an index in the new impression (1922), but has not been replaced by
a new ed.; the Life of Engelbert has been edited by F. Zschaeck: Die Wundergeschichten
des Caesarius von Heisterbach, III (Bonn 1937), 225-328. For a general survey of medieval
exempla literature, see A. Hilka, ibid., I (Bonn 1933).
18
merely the primitive Church of apostolic times, but the “ancient Church” ;
and even the phrase "Church history” reappears. In the prologue to his
Historia ecclesiastica, the second version of which was finished in 1110,
Hugh of Fleury promises to lead the reader to the hidden secrets of the
Church concealed in history; but his title hides merely a further
compilation of sacred and profane history.18 Neither does the work of
Ordericus Vitalis, bearing the same title and ending with the year 1141,
by any means fulfill its author’s claims, in spite of its originality: Ecclesia
Dei means for him both the whole Church and individual churches; the
gesta Dei happen in her and to her, not through h er.19 For John
of Salisbury (f 1180), the keenly observant secretary of Thomas Becket
and later Bishop of Chartres, the history of the Church, whose beginnings
are related in the Acts of the Apostles and whose growth Eusebius has
described, is already a history of the priesthood and thus of the papacy,2021
as it was also for the Dominican Bartholomew of Lucca (f 1326) writing
two centuries later. The latter’s Historia ecclesiastica nova21 identifies
the kingdom of Christ with the reign of the Roman pontiffs: for the
contemporary of Boniface VIII and John X X II the dualism of the two
kingdoms no longer existed. But Bartholomew’s work, again, was no real
Church history.
The germ of a new method of writing Church history which appeared
in the creative twelfth century never in fact developed. On the contrary,
the Church became at that time the subject of “historical theology”. Rupert
of Deutz (f 1129) associates creation, redemption, and sanctification with
the three persons of the Trinity; sanctification occurs through the seven
gifts of the Holy Spirit, who works in the Church.22 Like Rupert, Gerhoh
of Reichersperg, who followed in his wake, is not interested in reporting
18 MGSS IX, 349-64 (little more than the prologues); PL, 163, 821-54; cf. Manitius III,
518 fF. The words referred to in the Prologue are: “Praeterea hujus historiae liber nimis
profunda latenter continet ecclesiae sacramenta” (350).
10 PL 188, 15-984. In the Prologue, Ordericus justifies this title: he writes “de rebus
ecclesiasticis ut simplex ecclesiae filius . . . unde praesens opusculum ecclesiasticam
historiam appellari affecto” (16). Cf. H. Wolter, Ordericus Vitalis. Ein Beitrag zur
kluniazensischen Geschichtsschreibung (Wiesbaden 1955); see also T. Schieffer, ZKG
62 (1955-6), 336 ff.
20 Historia Pontificalis, ed. M. Chibnall (London 1956); H. Hohenleutner, “John of
Salisbury in der Literatur der letzten zehn Jahre” in H ] 77 (1958), 493 ff. A history of
the popes preserved in a MS at the abbey of Zwettl also dates from the twelfth century:
cf. K. Ross, Die Historia Pontijicum Romanorum aus Zwettl (Greifswald 1932).
21 Muratori XI, 753-1216: cf. M. Grabmann, Mittelalterliches Geistesleben I, 354ff.
22 PL, 167-170. For the critical ed. now in preparation, cf. R. Haacke, “Die Oberlieferung
der Rupertus-Schriften” in DA 16 (1960), 397-436; W. Kahles, Geschichte als Liturgie.
Die Geschichtstheologie des Rupertus von Deutz (Munster 1960): the attitude is
unhistorical.
19
facts but in interpreting them and finding their symbolic relationships.23

Anselm of Havelberg ( tll5 8 ) developed an interpretation of the
Apocalypse which he found already existing. He divided the history of
the Church into seven parts: the white horse of the Apocalypse is the
primitive Church, the red horse the age of persecutions, the black horse
the attacks of heretics, the pale horse signifies the false brethren, rendered
harmless by the monks; the subsequent periods belong to the final age
which will precede the end of the world. The Holy Spirit renews the
world by means of the monks. He is the principle of progress in the
Church.24 From Anselm it is but a step to Joachim of Floris (f 1202), the
Calabrian Cistercian abbot, who in his commentary on the Apocalypse
divides the history of salvation into three periods: the age of the Father,
or the Old Testament, in which the Law ruled; the age of the Son, or the
New Testament, in which faith and grace rule, and the imperfections of
which will be removed in the third age: the approaching age of the Holy
Spirit, who will bring the fullness of grace and the dominion of love.
Instead of the present, imperfect, Petrine Church there will appear at
a time which can be calculated from Holy Scripture (about the year
1260) the perfect Johannine Church of the Spirit, in which the eternal
gospel will be proclaimed.25 The Church of the present is not the final
form of Christ’s Church; it can and will be superseded by a church of
the Spirit.
Joachim’s view of history determined not only the historical inter
pretation of the Franciscan spiritual writers such as Ubertino of Casale
and Peter John Olivi,26 who saw in Francis of Assisi the proclaimer or
at least the precursor of the “eternal gospel”; his influence is traceable
even in such a lively historian as Salimbene of Parma. And for Bona-
venture himself the actual purpose of studying history is “not the under
standing of the past, but prophecy about what is to come”. 27 Late medieval28
28 PL, 193 and 194; Opera inedita, ed. P. Classen, I (Rome 1955); E. Meuthen, Kirche
und Heilsgeschehen bei G. von R. (Cologne 1959); P. Classen, G. von R., Eine Biographie
(Wiesbaden 1960); H. Hiirten in H ] 80 (1961), 265-9.
24 PL 188, W. Kamlah, Apokalypse und Geschichtstheologie (Berlin 1935); K. Fina,
“Anselm von Havelberg”, APraem 32 (1956), 69-101 and 193-227; W. Berges, Jahrbuch
fur Geschichte Mittel- und Ostdeutschlands 5 (1956), 39 ff.
25 The collected ed. by E. Buonaiuti, for the Fonti per la storia d’ltalia, is not yet complete.
Cf. H. Grundmann, Studien iiber J. von F. (Leipzig 1927); idem, Neue Forschungen iiber
J. von F. (Marburg 1950); M. W. Bloomfield, “J. of F., a Critical Survey” in Tr 13
(1957), 249-311.
20 R. Mansclli, La Lectura super apocalypsim di P. G. Olivi (Rome 1955); also important
is Alexander Minorita, Expositio in Apocalypsim, ed. A. Wachtel (Weimar 1955).
27 J. Ratzinger, Die Geschichtstheologie des hi. Bonaventura (Munich 1959), 22; Salimbene’s
Chronica, ed. F. Bernini, 2 vols. (Bari 1942); N. Scivoletto, Fra Salimbene da Parma e
la storia politica e religiosa del secolo XIII (Bari 1950).
20
studies of the Apocalypse frequently follow Joachim’s lines of thought.28

Nicholas of Cusa draws a parallel between the historical life of Jesus
and that of His mystical body the Church: to every year of our Lord’s
life corresponds a period of fifty years in the history of the Church. As
the Precursor appeared in Jesus’s twenty-ninth year, so will the Holy
Spirit awake in the Church about the year 1450, and the kingdom of God
will be spread by saints throughout the world; but then, corresponding to
the thirtieth year of our Lord’s age, will begin the passion of the Church
and her persecution by Antichrist.
These systems of historical theology had their origin in the unsatis
factory condition of the Church of the time, which was so much in need
of reform; and, with the Church’s past in mind, they developed into the
so-called theory of decadence: namely, that the history of the Church is
that of a continuous falling away from the ideal state of the primitive
Church.29 Sometimes this theory is expressed in the form of a division
into periods: the Golden Age of the martyrs was succeeded by the Silver
Age of the great Fathers of the Church, the Bronze Age of the monks
and finally by the contemporary Iron Age, in which moral decay
provokes the judgment of God. The theory of decadence does not, like
the theologies of history and the apocalyptic interpretations, involve the
undervaluing of historical facts; apart from reforming works, it is to be
found in the writings of such important historians as Dietrich of Niem
and Thomas Ebendorfer.30 But knowledge of the Church’s historical past
was hardly increased between the thirteenth century and the end of the
fifteenth. Writers were content to recapitulate what already existed, as
did Vincent of Beauvais (f 1264) in his Speculum historiale, 31 or to reduce
it to synoptic form, as did Martin of Troppau (f 1278) in his tabular
chronicle of emperors and popes, which had many continuators and was
translated into several languages.32 These two, as well as Bernard Gui
28 J. Rohr’s “Die Prophetie im letzten Jahrhundert vor der Reformation als Geschichts-
quelle und Geschichtsfaktor” in HJ 19 (1898), 22-56 and 447-66, has not yet been
superseded; cf. ibid., 32 f., concerning the work De eversione Europae, falsely ascribed to
St Vincent Ferrer; N. Cohn, The Pursuit of the Millenium (London 1957), concerns mainly
the earlier Middle Ages. For the Franciscan J. Flilten (c. 1500) and his commentary on
Daniel and the Apocalypse, see H. Volz in ZKG 67 (1955-6), 111-15.
29 No thorough research on this subject has yet been done; cf. E. Seeberg, Gottfried Arnold
(Meerane 1923), 285 ff.
30 Thomas Ebendorfer’s Schismentraktat, ed. H. Zimmermann in AOG 120 (1954),
45-147; A. Lhotsky, T. Ebendorfer (Stuttgart 1957), 109 f. and 125 f..
81 Cf. K. Young, “The Speculum Majus of V. of B.”, The Yale University Library
Gazette 5 (1930), 1-13; B. L. Ullmann, “A Project for a new Edition of V. of B.”,
Speculum 8 (1933), 212-26.
32 MGSS XXII, 377-475. For continuations, see H. Schmidinger, “Das Papstbild in der
Geschichtsschreibung des spaten Mittelalters”, Rom. Hist. Mitteilungen 1 (1958), 106-29
21
(f 1331)33 and Antoninus of Florence (f 1459), belonged to the Dominican

order. The latter’s chronicle had for its purpose the promotion of virtuous
actions by historical examples.34 The numerous compendia of papal history
show new and individual characteristics specifically for the popes of the
period.35 The strong nationalistic tones, already audible in Matthew
Paris30 and Alexander of Roes37 grow louder in the French biographies
of the popes of the Avignon epoch and the years of the Great Schism.
Catalogues of bishops and abbots were compiled, and the great orders
wrote their chronicles.
The literary history of the Church, whose ancient standard works (by
Jerome, Gennadius and Isidore of Seville) had been continued in the
twelfth century by Sigebert of Gembloux and Honorius of Autun, was
little advanced by the catalogue of Henry of Brussels (formerly ascribed
to Henry of Ghent) or by that of Arnold Geylhoven of Rotterdam
(f 1442) more than a century later, or by other works of that kind.38
Only the list of writers compiled by the Benedictine abbot Johannes
Trithemius (J* 1516) is based on extensive researches, but it is disfigured
by many errors and confusions.39
esp. 113 f. and 120. One of the few critical editions of late medieval papal and imperial
chronicles is that of Andreas of Regensburg: Chronica Pontificum et Imperatorum
Romanorum, ed. G. Leidinger (Munich 1903).
33 For Gui’s Flores chronicorum, the Catalogus brevis Pont. Rom. et Imperatorum and the
Tractatus de temporibus et annis generalium et particularium conciliorum, all written
in the second decade of the fourteenth century, cf. HistLittFranee XXXV, 139-232;
DHGE VIII, 667 ff. (G. Mollat).
34 R. Morfay, St Antonin (Tours-Paris 1914), 322ff.; B. Walker, The Chronicles of
St Antonin (Washington 1933).
35 Excerpts from the Actus Romanorum Pontificum of Amalricus Augerii are in Baluze
and Mollat, Vitae paparum Avenionensium, I 89 ff., 183ff., and 405 ff.; for Ebendorfer’s
Chronica Pont. Rom., see Lhotsky, op. cit. 59 ff.
36 Chronica Majora, ed. H. R. Luard, 7 vols. (London 1872-84); R. Vaughan, Matthew
of Paris (Cambridge 1958).
37 A. von R., Schriften ed. and trans., H. Grundmann and H. Heimpel (Weimar 1949);
Heimpel, “A. von R. und das deutsche Selbstbewufitsein des 13. Jh.” in AKG 26 (1935),
19ff.; idem, “Ober den Pavo des A. von R.” in DA 13 (1957), 171-227, reprinted in
Lammers, op. cit. 350-417.
38 P. Lehmann, “Literaturgeschichte im Mittclalter”, Erforschung des MA I, (Stuttgart
1941), 82 ff.; F. Pelster, “Der Heinrich von Gent zugeschriebene Catalogus Virorum
Illustrium und sein wirklicher Verfasser” in HJ 39 (1919), 234-64; Lehmann, “Der
Schriftstellerkatalog des A. G. von Rotterdam” in Erforschung des MA (Stuttgart 1961),
216-36; A. Auer, Ein neugefundener Katalog der Dominikanerschriftsteller (Paris 1933);
T. F. Bonmann, Die literaturkundlichen Quellen des Franziskanerordens im MA (Fulda
1937).
39 De scriptoribus ecclesiasticis, completed in 1494 and printed in the same year at Mainz;
for the sources, see I. Silbernagl, J. Trithemius (Regensburg 1885), 61 ff.; H. Jedin, “Fra
contemporanei del Tritemio” in Benedictina (1948), 231-6.
22
The great events of ecclesiastical history did of course find their

historians. Dietrich of Niem, Ludolf of Sagan, and Martin of Alpartil
wrote of the Schism40 and John of Segovia of the Council of Basle.41 But
for the period after the thirteenth century the scope and value of their
work are swallowed up by the rapidly swelling stream of documents,
letters, deeds, and other records of the most varied kinds, as well as
liturgical books and rubrics. The papal registers have been preserved from
1198 onwards, albeit with some gaps; the register of petitions, which
begins with Clement VI, comprises 7,365 volumes, down to the pontificate
of Leo X III. The collections of documents and regesta of the German
bishoprics and provinces, as well as of the cities that were ever increasing
in importance, became more and more extensive,42 and are augmented by
lists of property, copies of deeds, account-books, and tax-lists. Letters and
collections of letters make possible the writing of genuine, vivid
biographies; and the admittedly still sporadic reports of ambassadors
(like those of the Aragonese ambassadors at the Curia and of the
participants in the Councils of Basle and Constance), and the acts of the
councils and imperial diets give us a glimpse into the conduct of
ecclesiastical affairs.
The Flowering of Church History from the Sixteenth

to the Eighteenth Century
The contribution of Humanism to the revival of Church history was the
result of the Humanists’ cry: “Ad fontes!” By making the sources (and
first of all those for the history of the early Church) flow again, they
broke the drought of the late medieval compendia. As regards the earlier
period, the papal biographies of Bartolomeo Platina (T 1481) were no
more than a stylistic rewriting of the Liber Pontificalis. 43 Lorenzo Valla’s
criticism of the Donation of Constantine44 marked a new beginning, which
40 Dietrich of Niem, De Schismate, ed. G. Erler (Leipzig 1890); cf. Heimpel, Dietrich
von Niem (Munster 1932), 181-268; Ludolf of Sagan: De Longevo Schismate, ed. G. Lo-
serth in AOG 60 (1880), 411 ff.; Martin of Alpartil: Chronica actitatorum temporibus
D. Benedicti XIII, ed. by F. Ehrle (Paderborn 1906).
41 Historia gestorum generalis synodi Basiliensis, in Monumenta Cone. gen. saeculi XV,
II-IV (Vienna-Basle 1873-1935); cf. U. Fromherz, Johann von Segovia als Geschichts-
schreiber des Konzils von Basel (Basle 1960).
42 For a general survey of narrative sources for the history of German bishoprics and
cities, see Jacob and Weden, Quellenkunde der deutschen Gcschichte im MA (5th ed. Berlin
1952), III, 128-142. The marked lack of information on sources for Church history from
this time forward has been partly remedied for Germany by G. Wolf in Quellenkunde der
deutschen Reformationsgeschichte, 2 vols. (Gotha 1915-22).
43 The Liber de vita Christi et pontificum (Venice 1479) ends at 1474, but numerous
later editions and continuations take it beyond that date.
44 L. Valla, De falso credita et ementita Constantini donatione declamatio, written 1440,
23
could however be further developed only when the art of printing had
begun not only to multiply single works by the Fathers and by later
ecclesiastical writers, but also to produce collected editions. In the
preliminary work of this kind questions of authenticity arose, the feeling
for literary form was awakened, authors began to enter into the language
and spirit of the early Church and learnt to know her institutions.
Although Erasmus was by nature a philologist, not an historian, we cannot
leave him out of account in connexion with the revival of the historical
sense. It was from his circle that the earliest editions of the ancient
Christian histories issued. Beatus Rhenanus edited in 1523 the Latin
version of Eusebius’s Ecclesiastical History and the Historia tripartita; 45
in 1544 the works of Eusebius and Theodoret were published in the
original Greek. About the same time there appeared the still very imperfect
editions of the councils by Merlin and Crabbe. Sources which had hitherto
been employed only in derivative form and at second hand (such as
Gratian’s Decretum) were now directly accessible. That they were used
for the writing of a history of the Church was, it must be admitted, a
result of the Reformation.
Luther’s historical view of the Church was determined by his conviction
that the true, biblical, doctrine of salvation had been falsified through the
guilt of the papacy and by Aristotelean scholasticism, and that a thorough
reform of the Church was possible only by a return to that doctrine of
salvation and a laying aside of “human ordinances”. This view, which
gave quite a new turn to the theory of decadence, demanded a Church
history that would justify it. The Historia ecclesiastical written by the
strict Lutheran Matthias Flacius (actually Vlacich, 1520-75) with the
help of Johannes Wigand and other collaborators, and generally known
because of its divisions and place of origin as the Magdeburg Centuries,
sought to prove by a wealth of systematically arranged references to
sources that Lutheranism, and not the papal Church, was in agreement
with the doctrine of the early Church. In 1556 this work was preceded
by a catalogue of witnesses to evangelical truth in papal times. This
powerful attack at once provoked a series of replies, partly inadequate
ed. W. Schwalm (Leipzig 1928). For later medieval discussions of its authenticity, see
D. Laehr, “Die Konstantinische Schenkung in der abendlandischen Literatur des aus-
gehenden MA” in QFIAB 23 (1931-2), 120-81; Jedin, Studien iiber Domenico de
Domenichi (Wiesbaden 1958), 264-8.
45 Auctores historiae ecclesiasticae (Basle 1523) contains only the Latin versions of
Eusebius’ Church History by Rufinus, the Historia Tripartita and texts from Theodoret;
a new and improved ed. was published at Basle in 1544.
48 Fourteen vols. (Basle 1559-74): the last, incomplete, ed. was published at Nuremberg
1757-65; W. Preger, M. Flacius Illyricus und seine Zeit, 2 vols. (Erlangen 1859-61);
P. Polman, “Flacius Illyricus, Historien de l’Eglise” in RHE 27 (1931), 27-73; M.
Mirkovic, Matia Vlacic Ilirik (Zagreb 1960).
24
and partly unfinished, (by Conrad Braun, Wilhelm Eisengrein and Peter
Canisius);47 then came Bigne’s systematically arranged collection of early
ecclesiastical writers,48 and finally the epoch-making Annales ecclesiastici
of the Oratorian Caesar Baronius (f 1607), based on lectures delivered by
him in the Oratory of Philip Neri, and giving in twelve volumes the
history of the Church down to Innocent III. He makes use of a vast
amount of source material, some of it quoted verbatim, but makes no
attempt at a division into periods.49 Baronius was fully aware that he
was producing something new; he wrote his Annales with an apologetic
purpose: “in defence of the antiquity of hallowed traditions and of the
authority of the Holy Roman Church, especially against the innovators
of our time”.50 His work was continued down to Pius V by the Pole
Abraham Bzovius (f 1637), further and better continued by the Oratorians
Odoricus Raynaldus (f 1671) and Jacob Laderchi (f 1738), and remained
till the nineteenth century the standard text of Catholic ecclesiastical
history, which somewhat unjustly overshadowed other not less important
achievements in the field of historical research.
A decisive factor in dissociating Church history from profane and from
purely religious history was the disruption of Christian unity, which led
to a more sharply defined understanding of the idea of the Church. The
true Church of Christ, recognizable by certain signs, was opposed by a
false church;51*but she must be historically proved to be the true Church.
The apostolicity of her doctrine, the continuity of her teaching office and
47 On C. Braun, Admonitio Catholica (Dillingen 1565), see N. Paulus in HJ 14 (1893)

544 f. On W. Eisengrein, Descriptionis rerum in orthodoxa et apostolica Christi ecclesia
gestarum (Ingolstadt 1566), see L. Pfleger, “W. Eisengrein, ein Gegner des Flacius Illyr.”,
HJ 25 (1904), 774-92; the commission of the Jesuit General Borgia to Canisius is in his
Epistolae et Acta, ed. O. Braunsberger, V (Freiburg i. Br. 1910) 480 f. (31 March 1567).
48 Bibliotheca veterum Patrum et antiquorum scriptorum ecclesiasticorum, 9 vols. (Paris
1575-9).
49 Vols. I-X II (Rome 1588-1605); Vols. X III-X XI (Rome 1646-77), by O. Raynaldus,
to 1564; Vols. XXII—XXIV (Rome 1728-37), by J. Laderchi, to 1571; for the
continuation by A. Theiner (Rome 1856) and other eds., see LThK I, 1271 f. An unsatis
factory but still unsuperseded biography is G. Calenzio’s La vita e gli scritti del Card.
C. Baronio (Rome 1907); G. Mercati, "Per la storia della Biblioteca Vaticana, bibliotecario
C. B.”, Opere minori, III (Vatican City 1937) 201-74; A. Walz, Studi historiografici
(Rome 1940), 5-27: the bibliography given there is enlarged in the new imp. by G. De
Luca of A. Roncalli’s, II Card. C. Baronio (Rome 1961), 47 ff.
50 In the Preface addressed to Sixtus V: “Praesertim contra novatores nostri temporis, pro
sacrarum traditionum antiquitate ac S. Romanae Ecclesiae potestate.”
51 Thus Michael Buchinger’s Historia ecclesiastica nova (Mainz 1560) was significantly a
revised version of the work De ecclesia which appeared in 1556. Cf. Paulus, “M. B.,
ein Colmarer Schriftsteller und Prediger des 16. Jh.” in AElsKG 5 (1930), 199 ff. For
the doctrine of the marks of the true Church, see G. Thils, Les notes de I’eglise dans
Vapologetique catholique depuis la Reforme (Gembloux 1937).
25
the antiquity of her institutions must be demonstrated by reference to

genuine sources. Thus, controversial theology had from the beginning an
emphasis on tradition and history.52 Evidence was sought and found in
the Fathers and in the ancient liturgies for the sacrifice of the Mass and
the Real Presence, for the papal primacy and the authority of councils;
original texts were published, sometimes for the first time, with a definitely
apologetic purpose.53 Guglielmo Sirleto (f 1584) provided the legates at
the Council of Trent, Cervini and Seripando, with patristic material to
serve as a basis for the Tridentine definitions,54 the Augustinian Hermit,
Onofrio Panvinio (f 1569) collected material for the history of the popes,
the college of cardinals and the churches of Rome.55 After the rediscovery
of the catacombs in the pontificate of Gregory X III, Antonio Bosio
(f 1629) founded Christian archaeology.56 The need for information about
theological writers of ancient and modern times gave a new impetus to
the study of ecclesiastical literary history. The printing of the ancient
catalogues of authors by Suffridus Petri (1580) was followed at short
intervals by the Epitome of Angelo Rocca (1594), the comprehensive
Apparatus sacer of Antonio Possevino (1606) and Bellarmine’s booklet
De scriptoribus ecclesiasticis (1613), destined to serve practical ends; the
Belgian Albert le Mire (f 1640) extended the catalogue of Trithemius. At
the end of the seventeenth century the Jansenist Louis-Ellies du Pin
produced the Nouvelle bibliotheque des auteurs ecclesiastiques (1684-91),
which with its continuations formed by far the most complete work of
reference for the history of ecclesiastical literature; the Histoire generate
des auteurs sacres et ecclesiastiques (23 vols., 1729-33) by the Benedictine
Remi Ceillier concludes with the thirteenth century.
Although the predominantly apologetic tendency of the period some
times prevented the acceptance even of results definitely established by
54 P. Polman, Velement historique 284 ff. Melchior Cano states (De locis theologicis,
XI 2): Quod autem in dissertatione adversum fidei Christianae inimicos rerum gestarum
monumenta theologo peropportuna sint, clarissimorum virorum usus aperte confirmat.
G. Gieraths, “M. Cano und die Geschichtswissenschaft” in FZThPb 9 (1962), 3-29.
53 Thus the controversial theologian J. Cochlaeus prepared eds. of Cyprian, Optatus of
Mileve, Gregory Nazianzen and Chrysostom, and in 1525 published the decrees of the
ancient councils: cf. bibliography in M. Spahn, J. Cochlaeus (Berlin 1898), 341-72.
In 1546 Georg Witzel edited the Liturgia S. Basilii nuper e tenebris eruta; and Franciscus
Torres published the Apostolic Constitutions for the first time in 1563.
54 Excerpts from the letters to Cervini (1545-7) are in CT X, 929-55; cf. S. Merkel,
“Ein patristischer Gewahrsmann des Tridentinums,” in Festgabe A. Ehrhard (Bonn
1922), 342-58. The letters to Seripando (1562-43) have not yet been published; cf. Jedin,
G. Seripando, II (Wurzburg 1937) 300 ff.
*5 D. A. Perini, O. Panvinio e le sue opere (Rome 1899); there is no adequate modern
biography.
56 Pastor, IX, 194 ff., Eng. tr. vol. XIX, 269 ff.
26
Protestant criticism (as with the proof adduced by Blondel of the forgery
of the Pseudo-Isidore), the publication of extensive groups of sources led
inevitably to the improvement of the historico-critical method, and so to
the establishment of Church history as a science. The earlier histories
of the councils had already taken their material from sources anterior to
the medieval collections of canons, and now the Editio Romana (1608-12)
for the first time published Greek texts. Subsequently the Jesuit Hardouin
(f 1729) produced the best, and J. D. Mansi (f 1769) the most comprehen
sive, edition of the general and many provincial councils. These works
were paralleled by the collections of national councils made by Sirmond
for France, Aguirre for Spain, Hartzheim for Germany, and Wilkins for
England.57
The collections of saints’ Lives, the publication of which was intended
to stimulate and defend the worship of saints, followed a comparable line
of development from an initially uncritical accumulation of material to
a critical outlook. Luigi Lippomani (f 1559), supported by G. Hervet and
G. Sirleto, wrote a preliminary compilation; and the Carthusian Laurentius
Surius (f 1578), basing his work on this but far surpassing it, published
“authenticated lives of the saints”;58 then the Jesuit Heribert Rosweyde
drew up in 1607 a project of publishing the ancient Vitae Sanctorum in
their authentic texts, not as rewritten by the Humanists, nor based on
manuscripts accidentally discovered but on manuscripts systematically
sought out. In spite of Bellarmine’s warning, Rosweyde’s fellow-Jesuits
Johannes Bolland (f 1665) and Gottfried Henskens (f 1681) began to
carry out this plan in 1643, arranging the Acta Sanctorum according to
the calendar.59 Against literary attacks and the Spanish Inquisition,
57 Details of the great eds. of the councils are in Quentin, J.-D. Mansi et les grandes
collections conciliaires (Paris 1960); see also S. Kuttner, UEdition romaine des conciles
generaux et les actes du premier Concile de Lyon (Rome 1940). The most important
national collections are: Concilia antiqua Galliae, ed. J. Sermond, 3 vols. (Paris 1629),
with supplement by P. Dalande (Paris 1666); Collectio maxima conciliorum omnium
Hispaniae et novi orbis, ed. J. Saenz de Aguirre, 4 vols. (Rome 1693): 2nd ed., J.
Catalanus, 6 vols. (Rome 1753-5); Concilia Magnae Britanniae et Hiberniae, ed. D.
Wilkins, 4 vols. (London 1737); Concilia Germaniae, ed. J. F. Schannat and J. Hartz
heim, 11 vols. (Cologne 1759-90). For the collection of decrees and canons of the
general and provincial councils ed. by the Augustinian C. de Wulf, of Louvain (Louvain
1665, Brussels 1673), cf. A. Legrand and L. Ceyssens Augustiniana 8 (1958), 200-36
and 328-55.
58 P. Holt, “Die Sammlung von Heiligenleben des L. Surius” in NA 44 (1922), 341-64.
59 The first two vols. of the Acta Sanctorum, covering the month of January, bore the
title: “Acta Sanctorum, quotquot toto orbe coluntur vel a catholicis scriptoribus
celebrantur, quae ex antiquis monumentis latinis, graecis aliarumque gentium collegit,
digessit, notis illustravit Johannes Bollandus; operam et studium contulit Godefridus
Henschenius.” For the whole work, cf. Peeters, UCEuvre des Bollandistes (Brussels, 2nd
ed. 1961).
27
Daniel Papebroch (f 1714), Bolland’s outstanding successor, defended the

method employed by the Bollandists in his Responsia of 1696-7. Fifty-two
folio volumes issued from the Museum Bollandianum in Antwerp down
to the time of its suppression in 1788.
Working concurrently with the Bollandists as critical investigators of
ecclesiastical sources were the Maurists: the Benedictines of the French
congregation of St Maur. They also continued what had been begun in
the sixteenth century: replacing the editions of the Fathers, which had
become largely a Protestant monopoly, with Catholic editions printed at
Rome, Louvain, and elsewhere.60 After the turn of the century there
followed at short intervals bilingual editions of the Greek Fathers, mostly
printed at Paris.61 The Jesuit Dionysius Petavius (Denis Petau, *j* 1652),
himself the editor of Epiphanius of Salamis, opened the way to historical
proof in systematic theology, and was the founder of scientific chronolgy.62
These not insignificant achievements were however far surpassed by the
Maurist editions, the fruit of exemplary co-operation: especially the
edition of Augustine by Thomas Blampin (f 1710) and Pierre Coustant
(1721), which appeared in the years 1679-1700; and that of Chrysostom
by Bernard Montfaucon (f 1741), which had been preceded in 1667 by
an edition of the works of Bernard of Clairvaux by the greatest of the
Maurist scholars and the founder of palaeography, Jean Mabillon (f 1707).
Mabillon and his pupil Edmond Martene (f 1739) became the initiators
of the scientific study of the liturgy with their De antiquis ecclesiae ritibus
(1700-2). The extensive journeys undertaken by the Maurists to visit
libraries in France, Belgium, Germany, and Italy led to the discovery of
numerous hitherto unpublished sources.63
To the Bollandists and Maurists Church history owes the principle that
every historical statement must be based upon authentic sources, edited
according to the strict rules of philological criticism. All historical research
stands upon their shoulders, and the texts which they produced are to
some extent still in use. They share this distinction with the great editions
of early texts made by Italian scholars of the eighteenth century, such as
L. A. Muratori (f 1750), the incomparable editor of medieval Italian
sources, and the brothers Pietro and Girolamo Ballerini. Besides these
60 An ed. of Augustine appeared at Louvain in 1577, of Jerome at Rome in 1565-72,
and of Ambrose also at Rome in 1579-87.
81 Basil the Great, Gregory Nazianzen, Gregory of Nyssa, Epiphanius of Salamis, and
Chrysostom; further details will be given later, in Volume IV.
62 P. di Rosa, “Denis Petau e la cronologia” in AHS1 29 (I960), 3-54.
88 The first of these collections of unpublished works, so characteristic of the period, was
J.-L. d’Achery’s Spicilegium (Paris 1655-77). This was followed by the Mart^ne-Durand
Thesaurus anecdotorum (Paris 1717) and Amplissima collectio (Paris 1724-33). Equally
excellent were the accounts of journeys: e.g., Montfaucon’s Diarium ltalicum (Paris
1702; new imp. 1962).
28
there are the authors of the great statistical works on papal and diocesan
history and on that of the religious orders, which appeared in the seven
teenth and eighteenth centuries. The Dominican Alphonse Chacon
(Giaconius, f 1599) in his posthumously printed Vitae et res gestae
Pontificum Romanorum et S. R. E. Cardinalium (1601-2) created the
first reference work on papal history, subsequently continued by Agostino
Oldoini.64 The Italia sacra of the Cistercian Ferdinando Ughelli (f 1670),
a collection of lists of bishops of the Italian dioceses,65* admittedly
uncritical as regards the earlier period, was the model for the Gallia
Christiana of the brothers St Marthe, which far surpassed it. Martene and
his collaborators were commissioned by the assembly of the French clergy
in 1710 to revise this work,60 which in turn encouraged the Spanish
Augustinian Enrico Florez to compile his Espana Sagrada, 67 the Jesuit
Farlati to compile his Illyricum sacrum,6869and abbot Gerbert of St Blasien
to resume earlier projects for a Germania Sacra.69 Like the latter, the
project of an Orhis christianus, embracing the whole ecclesiastical
hierarchy, conceived by the prefect of the Vatican Archives, Giuseppe
Garampi (f 1792), did not get beyond the preliminary stages.70
More perhaps was done for the history of the religious orders. The
Annales ordinis Minorum of the Irish Franciscan Luke Wadding (f 1657),71
and the supplementary catalogue of Franciscan authors prompted other
orders to bring out similar comprehensive historical works,72 foremost
among them being Mabillon’s Annales OSB, which were preceded by the
Acta Sanctorum OSB. The Dominicans received from the hands of J.
Quetif and J. Echard the best catalogue of their authors, and from
P. Ripoll and A. Bremond the most comprehensive bullarium. The
Franciscan Helyot attempted for the first time a general history of the
religious orders.73 When one further considers that at the same time
64 The 3rd ed., prepared by Oldoini, comprised 4 vols.; the 4th (1751), 6 vols.
65 Nine vols. (Rome 1643-62); the 2nd ed., by N. Coleti, was in 10 vols. (Venice 1717-22).
00 Gallia Christiana (nova), 13 vols. (Paris 1715-85); cf. LThK IV, 497.
67 Espana Sagrada. Teatro geografico-historico de la Iglesia de la Espana, 51 vols.
(Madrid 1754-1879).
68 Eight vols.; V-VIII by J. Coleti (Venice 1751-1819).
69 G. Pfeilschifter, Die St Blasianische Germania Sacra (Munich 1921); for the extraor
dinarily interesting ed. of Gerbert’s correspondence by Pfeilschifter and W. Muller, see
LThK IV, 710 f.
70 P. Dengel, “Sull’ Orbis christianus di G. Garampi”, Atti del II Congresso Nazionale di
Studi Romani (Rome 1931), 497 ff.
71 Father Luke Wadding: Commemorative Volume (Dublin 1957); for the “Wadding
Papers 1614-38”, ed. B. Jennings (Dublin 1953), cf. Irish Historical Studies 10 (1956),
228-36 (F. X. Martin); C. Mooney, “The Letters of L. W.” in IER 88 (1957), 396-409.
72 F. Roth, “Augustinian Historians of the XVIIth Century” in Augustiniana 6 (1956),
635-58.
73 For further details see my article: “Ordensgeschichte” in LThK VII, 1201-4.
29
many dioceses and monasteries were producing well-documented

histories,74 and that reference works, excellent in many respects, were
being written, especially in Italy,75 as a contribution to the biography of
ecclesiastical personages, one cannot but ask the question: what use did
historiography make of all these sources and aids to historical research
which were accumulated during the course of two centuries?
Writers of Church history were not in a position to keep pace with
this widening horizon and improvement in methods of research. The
attitude which regarded Church history as equivalent to the history of
man’s salvation, which still persisted and found its last classic expression
in Bossuet’s Discours, 76 need not have been an impediment. On the other
hand, it is undeniable that on the Protestant side the separation of
ecclesiastical from profane history, first made by Melanchthon, uninten
tionally promoted its secularization while contributing to its independence.
The Pietist viewpoint represented in Gottfried Arnold’s Unpartheyische
Kirchen- und Ketzerhistorie (2 vols., 1699-1700), namely that personal
piety, not dogmas and institutions, was the real subject of Church history,
seems hardly to have any effect on Catholic writing. Even after the end
of the wars of religion, when eirenic tendencies were gaining ground, the
dispute with Protestantism went on: the monographs of the Jesuit Louis
Maimbourg provide an example of this tradition.77 The history of the
Council of Trent by the Servite Paolo Sarpi attracted far more attention
than any controversial work, because under the appearance of a sober,
factual account it was a large-scale attack on the post-Tridentine papacy.
The reply of the Jesuit Pietro Sforza Pallavicino, based on far better
sources and skilfully written, was intended as an historical apologia.78
The impulse to comprehend and organize Church history as a whole
was lacking in the education of the time. The same Jesuit general
Aqua viva, who in 1609 was considering a plan 79 to establish courses for
advanced students in ecclesiastical history, especially the history of the
74 E.g., N. Hontheim, Historia Trevirensis, 3 vols. (Augsburg 1750); S. H. Wiirdtwein,

Dioecesis Moguntia, 5 vols. (Mannheim 1768-90); also the letters published by H. Raab
in AHVNrh 153-4 (1953), 170-200.
75 E.g., the index of authors published by G. Fantuzzi for Bologna: by G. Agnostini
for Venice; and, surpassing all others, Tiraboschi’s classic Storia della letteratura Italiana.
76 In the Discours sur I’histoire universelle (1618), as W. Kaegi and others have shown,
the old outlook is permeated and transformed by new ideas; cf. O. Brunner in Lammers
op. cit. 444 f.
77 Histoire du Grand Schisme d'Occident (Paris 1676); Histoire du Lutheranisme (Paris
1680); Histoire du Calvinisme (Paris 1682); the first two have indexes.
78 Jedin, Der Quellenapparat der Konzilsgeschichte Pallavicinos (Rome 1940); followed
by a general survey, 61-118.
79 P. de Leturia, “L’insegnamento della storia ecclesiastica nella Roma dell’Umanesimo
e del Barocco” in CivCatt (1945), IV 393-402.
30
councils, had excluded the subject from the normal curriculum in his
Ratio Studiorum, which dominated higher education for two hundred
years. At Rome, Church history was indeed studied in private circles,80
but only in 1714 was a chair of ecclesiastical history founded at the
Roman College.81 The works dealing with the subject which had been
appearing since the middle of the seventeenth century in France, the
dominating country at that time in intellectual matters, were not the
product of instruction: They served more or less to justify Gallican ideas
of the Church. By far the best achievement were the Selecta bistoriae
ecclesiasticae capita et . . . dissertationes, by the Dominican Alexander
Natalis ( t 1724): a collection of 230 topics, mainly on points of doc
trine and arranged according to centuries.82 These were placed on the
Index on account of their Gallican views, but were nevertheless repub
lished in 1699 without significant corrections, under the title Historia
ecclesiastica veteris novique Testamenti, and there were eight subsequent
editions. The Memoires of L. S. Lenain de Tillemont (f 1698), pieced
together like a mosaic of selections from early sources, were confined to
Church history down to the year 513; Claude Fleury (f 1723) brought
his twenty-volume Histoire ecclesiastique (1691-1720) down to the
Council of Constance.83 Its critical acumen and pleasing style assured
the success of the work, but its Gallican tendencies called forth a reply
from the Dominican G. A. Orsi, whose Istoria ecclesiastica (1747-62)
covered only the first six centuries. Nevertheless, it had many continu-
ators and was still being reprinted in the nineteenth century.84 To these
many-volumed works the Breviarium bistoriae ecclesiasticae usibus aca-
demicis accommodatum by the Augustinian Gianlorenzo Berti (f 1766)
formed a modest exception: yet it marks a turning-point because it was
intended for instruction.85*
80 P. Paschini, “La Conferenza dei Concili a Propaganda Fide” in RSTI 14 (1960),

371-82.
81 P. de Leturia, “El P. Filippo Bebei y la fondacion de la catedra de historia
eclesiastica en el Colegio Romano 1741” in Gr 30 (1949), 158-92. The chair of ecclesiastical
history founded by Alexander VII in 1657 at the Roman Sapienza had no influence on
the education of the clergy; those established after 1725 at Madrid, Barcelona, and
Calatayud, were in colleges conducted by the Jesuits for the nobility.
8* Twenty six vols. (Paris 1676-86); there is a list of later eds. in A. Hanggi, Der
Kirchenhistoriker Natalis Alexander (Fribourg 1955), 189. According to its preface, the
work was intended “for the benefit and advantage of those who study sacred antiquity
and positive theology”.
88 F. Gaquere, La vie et les oeuvres de C. Fleury (Paris 1925).
84 Fifty vols. (Rome 1838).
85 B. van Luijk, “Gianlorenzo Berti Agostiniano” in RSTI 14 (1960), 235-62 and
383-410.
31
Church History as a Theological Discipline
The introduction of Church history into the curriculum of the uni
versities had begun in Protestant Germany. During the period of recon
struction after the Thirty Years’ War, the University of Helmstedt
had received its own chair of ecclesiastical history in 1650, and
nearly all the other Protestant universities of Germany had followed
suit. In the numerous textbooks of Church history written for academic
instruction,86 biblical history, especially that of the Old Testament, was
gradually superseded by specifically Church history. Slowly, too, the
division into centuries yielded to one based on periods. The pedagogic
aim and the polemic attitude remained: the latter found expression mainly
in dealing with and passing judgments on the Middle Ages. The
Compendium Gothanum, designed for instruction at the grammer school
(or Gymnasium) in Gotha, was published in 1666 by Veit Ludwig von
Seckendorff, who, like his later continuators E. S. Cyprian and C. W. F.
Walch, was outstanding as an historian of the Reformation. One-third of
this work was still devoted to the Old Testament, and the division by
centuries was likewise retained; but the beginnings of a division into
periods is also discernible: the Primitive Church is treated as one period,
and further divisions are made at the times of Constantine, Charlemagne,
and Luther. The Summarium historiae ecclesiasticae (1697) of the Leipzig
professor Adam Rechenberg distinguished five periods corresponding with
phases of the Church: Ecclesia plantata, from the first to the third century;
Ecclesia libertate gaudens, from the fourth to the sixth century; Ecclesia
pressa et obscurata, from the seventh to the tenth century; Ecclesia gemens
et lamentans, from the eleventh to the fifteenth century; and Ecclesia
repurgata et liberata, of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.
But it was Johann Lorenz Mosheim (f 1755), the “father of Protestant
Church history”, 87 who paved the way for a scientific view of Church
history as a whole. In his Institutiones historiae ecclesiasticae antiquioris
(1737), he defined it as “the careful and true narration of all external and
internal events in the society of men which takes its name from Christ,
for the purpose of recognizing the workings of Divine Providence through
the connexion of cause and effect in its foundation and preservation, in
order that we may learn piety and wisdom”. Without excluding God’s
action in the history of the Church, man is placed at its centre, and the
Church is examined in its development as a human community, according
to laws valid for history in general. Mosheim’s view of history and his8
88 The titles of the works mentioned here are in E. C. Scherer, Geschichte und Kirchen-
geschichte an den deutschen Universitaten (Freiburg 1927), 493-9.
87 K. Heussi, Johann Lorenz Mosheim (Tubingen 1906); for more recent discussion, cf.
RGG, 3rd ed. IV, 1157 f. (M. Schmidt).
32
marked pragmatism lead on to the Enlightenment, which makes its

appearance in the Historia religionis et ecclesiae Christianae (1777) by his
pupil Johann Schrockh.88 And in this "enlightened” form Church history
was transplanted to the Catholic universities, after the mid-eighteenth
century, firstly to those in the Habsburg empire.
The curriculum prescribed by the empress Maria Theresa in 1752,
which had been drawn up by the Jesuit Gerhard van Swieten, regarded
“spiritual history” as a compulsory subject. In what spirit instruction
was to be imparted appears from the directive to teachers inspired by abbot
Rautenstrauch (1775): it was to be pragmatical, that is "useful and
profitable for practical application” ; it was to show “the true limits of
the spiritual and temporal powers” (in a sense, of course, that gave
supremacy to the State), and to deal mainly with the early centuries and
with more recent times (but not with the Middle Ages); the teacher was
to "discuss” ecclesiastical matters, in order thus to sharpen his pupils’
judgment and to influence them morally.889
Other German Catholic universities followed the Austrian example:
Ingolstadt, Heidelberg, Mainz, and Bonn. Since Berti’s Breviarium did
not follow the prevailing autocratic tendency, anti-Roman and "enlight
ened,” Joseph II introduced the Protestant textbook by Schrockh. Later,
after Archbishop Magazzi of Vienna had protested, this was replaced in
1788 by the Institutiones historiae ecclesiasticae N ovi Testamenti by the
Swabian Matthias Dannenmayr which appeared in a German edition as
Leitfaden in der Kirchengeschichte (4 vols., 1790). Dannenmayr’s book
was moderately "enlightened”, but decidedly anti-Roman. It divided
Church history into five epochs, the divisions being made at the reigns of
Constantine, Charlemagne, and Gregory VII, and at the time of Luther,
and dealt with each according to a uniform scheme: expansion, organi
zation, authors, doctrine, heresies, liturgy, discipline, and councils. If one
ignores the basic attitude due to Schrockh’s influence, the author’s attempt
at an intellectual mastery of the subject and the boldness of his frequently
quite acute judgment must be acknowledged. Similar "guides” and
"introductions” for students were produced under different titles by
Alioz (1791), Aschenbrenner (1789), Batz (1797), Becker (1782), Gmeiner
(1787), Gollowitz (1791), Jung (1776), Lumper (1788), Pelka (1793),
Pronat (1779), Sappel (1783), SchmalfuB (1792-3), Schneller (1777),
Wiesner (1788) and Wolf (1793-1803). The Christliche Religions- und
Kirchengeschichte (4 vols., 1789-95) by Kaspar Royko and the Geschichte
der Christlichen Religion und Kirche (2 vols., 1792-3) by Milbiller, the
88 Schrockh’s principal work is the intolerably prolix Christliche Kirchengeschichte, 45

vols. (Leipzig 1768-1813); see RGG, 3rd ed. V. 1545 ff.
89 E. C. Scherer, op. cit. 400 ff.; for Dannenmayr, cf. ibid. 408-15.
33
latter of which appeared anonymously, were decidedly rationalistic. More

moderate successors with an “enlightened” point of view continued to
write in the nineteenth century: thus, Die grofien Kirchenversammlungen
des 15. und 16. Jahrhunderts by J. H. von Wessenberg appeared as late
as 1840. In England J. Milner and in America the Unitarian J. A.
Priestley turned away from the Enlightenment history, the former with
his History of the Church of Christ (1794-1809), the latter in his General
History of the Christian Church (1802-3).
However dangerous the intrusion of the Enlightenment was, and even
of Rationalism, the introduction of Church History into theological
instruction and the consequent need of many new textbooks contributed
to the opening up of a new view of Church history, under new
auspices indeed and on a different basis. In marked reaction against
the Enlightenment with its delight in passing judgments, its Caesaro-
papism and its contempt for the Middle Ages, Romantic writers strove
to feel their way lovingly and with faith into the Church’s great past,
especially in the hitherto-despised Middle Ages, and they discovered the
greatness of the papacy. Chateaubriand’s Genie du Christianisme (1802),
and Joseph de Maistre’s Du Pape (1819), however uncritical they were in
their reporting of facts,90 opened the eyes of contemporaries to the great
religious tradition and the cultural achievements of the Church, to which
Rationalism and the anti-Romanism of the age of Enlightenment had
blinded them. In England Sharon Turner in his History of England from
the Norman Conquest to 1509 (1814) could speak of the Middle Ages
as that period “in which our religion, literature, language, manners, laws,
and constitution have been chiefly formed”. Friedrich Leopold, Count
Stolberg (f 1819), in his Geschichte der Religion Jesu Christi (15 vols.,
1806-18) revived the opinions of Augustine and Bossuet, to whom the
history of the Church meant that of man’s salvation. He even returned
to pure chronography, renouncing any division into periods: he was
writing a history of the religion of Christ, not of the Church. But since
he recognized its ultimate significance to be the “firmer grounding of the
Faith by the help of history”, 91 his book became “an epoch-making work
for the reawakening of the serious study of Church history and especially
for the revival of Christian feeling” (Janssen). Stolberg’s basic religious
attitude was shared by Theodor Katerkamp, a member of the Munster
circle, in his Kirchengeschichte (5 vols., 1823-4); but he had more regard
than the former for the natural causes of events. The historical writers
90 S. Merkle, “Die Anfange franzosischer Laientheologie im 19. Jh.”, Festgabe Karl Muth
(Munich 1927), 325-57.
91 L. Scheffczyk, F. L. zu Stolbergs Geschichte der Religion Jesu Christi (Munich 1952),
133.
34
of the Enlightenment had looked upon the Church as an institution useful

to the State in raising the standard of morality and popular education;
now her transcendent, supernatural essence, her independence from the
State and her universality were being rediscovered.
Church History as an Historical and Theological Science

in the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries
The re-establishment of Church history as a theological and historical

science was the work of Johann Adam Mohler (1796-1838). Under the
influence of the “pectoral theologian” Neander in Berlin, and even more
under that of Johann Sebastian Drey ( | 1853), the dogmatician of the
Tubingen school, and in opposition to the German idealism of such
writers as Hegel and F. C. Baur, Mohler discovered the essential historicity
of Christianity as an organic development from supernatural revelation.
He forsook the “spiritual” idea of the Church expressed in his early
work Die Einheit der Kirche (1825); and by his definition of the Church
(discussed in Section I, above), he restored to Church history its
universality,which it had lost through the Enlightenment and Josephinism.
The scientific work of this author, who died so young, was certainly
fragmentary; but his successor at Tubingen, Carl Joseph Hefele (1809-93),
completed in his Conciliengeschichte (7 vols., 1855-74) the most lasting
achievement of German historical science in the ecclesiastical field. Though
now outdated in many details, Hefele’s work has not yet been
superseded;92 and his successor, F. X. Funk (f 1907), showed himself by
his researches into early Church history to be the keenest critic produced
by the Tubingen school.93
Whereas Mohler had treated of the general history of the Church only
in lectures, published posthumously by P. Grams in 1867-8, Johann Joseph
Dollinger (1799-1890) made three attempts to write a general Church
history: the first was his version of Hortig’s Handbuch der Christlichen
Kirchengeschichte (1828); the second a Lehrbuclo (1836) of his own
conception; and the third his two large-scale monographs, Heidentum
und Judentum als Vorhalle des Christentums (1857) and Christentum und
Kirche in den ersten drei ]ahrhunderten (1860): but neither of these were
finished. Denominational differences, which had been blurred by the
Enlightenment and more sharply emphasized again in Mohler’s Symbolik,
inspired Dollinger’s Reformation (1846-8). At the height of his activity
92 S. Losch, ThQ 119 (1939), 3-59; A. Hagen, Gestalten aus dem schwabischen Katho-
lizismus II, 7-58.
93 Kirchengeschichtliche Abhandlungen und Untersuchungen, 3 vols. (Paderborn 1897 to
1907).
35
he was indisputably the most learned ecclesiastical historian of his time,

surpassed in depth of thought only by John Henry Newman. The
influence of his school at Munich reached beyond Germany to France
and England (to such as Lord Acton); but he came into conflict both
with neo-Scholasticism and with the Roman Curia: first on the question
of the Temporal Power, and then on the doctrine of Infallibility. Failing
to submit on this issue to the Vatican Council, he was excommunicated.
This catastrophe resulted in a severe setback for historical studies in
Germany, but it could not in the long run prevent their further progress.
The theological foundations were laid, and constructive work continued
with the opening up of new sources and with specialized research, both
closely connected with the mighty flowering of historical science in the
nineteenth century. The first step was to make the great editorial achieve
ments of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries more accessible. The
enterprising abbe Migne (f 1875) reproduced in his two patrological series
only the texts already available at the time; A. Tomasetti’s new edition
of the Bullarium Romanum (named Taurinense after Turin, its place of
publication, 1857-72) was but a re-impression of Cocqueline’s work
(1739-44). The Viennese Academy of Sciences in the Corpus scriptorum
ecclesiasticorum latinorum (from 1860) and the Berlin Academy in
Griechische Christliche Schriftsteller der ersten drei Jahrhunderte (from
1897) produced new texts of the Fathers on improved philological
principles. The editing of medieval and more recent historical sources in
the best texts attainable, a task recognized and promoted as a national
obligation, was to the advantage of Church historians. In the Monumenta
Germaniae Historica (founded in 1819 and taken over by the Imperial
goverment in 1874) there appeared such important documents as the
Letters of Gregory the Great and St Boniface, the Libri Carolini, the
Register of Gregory VII and the Chronicle of Otto of Freising. Textual
and literary criticism, initiated by the Bollandists and the Maurists, were
vastly improved by the collaborators in the Monumenta. In documentary
research Theodor Sickel took over and improved the methods of Delisle
and his Bcole des chartes; M. Tangl, E. von Ottenthal and Paul Kehr,
above all the last named, applied them to the study of papal documents.
For more recent times there was an enormous increase of source-material
from the great national collections, as a result of the opening of state
archives following the July and March revolutions: the Collection des
Documents inedits sur Vhistoire de France (from 1835), the Coleccion de
documentos ineditos (from 1842) and the Calendar of State Papers (from
1856). At the same time the Vatican archivist Augustin Theiner (f 1874)
began to edit, in extensive Monumenta, sources for the history of the Papal
States, Ireland, and the western and southern Slavonic peoples; and the
convert Hugo Laemmer (f 1918) gave some idea of the riches of the
36
Roman archives and libraries for the history of the Reformation and
the Counter-Reformation.94 The throwing open of the Vatican archives
for research, by Pope Leo X III (in the Regolamento of 1 May 1884),
marked a new epoch and led to the foundation of numerous national
institutes of history at Rome.95 It also made possible such large-scale
undertakings as the publishing of nuncios’ reports from the sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries, the Concilium Tridentinum of the Gorres Society,
the pioneering researches of the Dominican H. Denifle (f 1905)96 and
the Jesuit Franz Ehrle (f 1934),97 and finally the Geschichte der Pdpste
of Ludwig von Pastor (f 1928), the most detailed work of Church history
produced in the past century.98 Like the Geschichte des Deutschen Volkes
by his teacher Johann Janssen (f 1891), Pastor’s work was the outcome
of the defensive attitude into which German Catholicism had been driven
since the outbreak of the Kulturkampf.
The rapid increase of source material, the constant improvement in
methods and aids, and the growing number of scientific monographs and
separate investigations did not discourage the work of synthesis in the
nineteenth century, as they had in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries,
if only because academic instruction required textbooks and manuals of
Church history.
The many-volumed Histoire universelle de I’Eglise catholique by R. F.
Rohrbacher (29 vols., 1842-9) was intended for a wider public, but the
academic historians were obliged both to keep pace with research and to
compete with the numerous and in some respects excellent Protestant
works of this kind: the Church histories of J. K. L. Gieseler (5 vols.,
1824-57), F. C. Baur (5 vols., 1853-63), K. R. Hagenbach (7 vols.,
1869-72), and W. Moller and G. Kawerau (3 vols., 1889-1907). The
earlier editions of the Handbuch of J. J. Ritter (f 1857) were still composed
under the influence of G. Hermes (3 vols., 1826-35); the leading work of
the middle of the century, Johann Alzog’s (J 1878) Universalgeschichte
der Christlichen Kirche, was based on Mohler’s lectures. After the first
Vatican Council Alzog’s study was superseded by the Handbuch der
94 For A. Theiner and the authors Ritter and Alzog of textbooks mentioned below,
see Jedin, “Kirchenhistoriker aus Schlesien in der Feme” in ArSKG 11 (1953), 243-59;
for Laemmer, see J. Schweter, H. Laemmer (Glaz 1926): an inadequate study; for
principal works, LThK VI, 767 f.
85 K. A. Fink, Das Vatikanische Archiv (Rome, 2nd ed. 1951), 155-67.
98 A. Walz, Analecta Denifleana (Rome 1955); for principal works in LThK III, 227.
97 Obituaries by H. Finke, H ] 54 (1934), 289-93; K. Christ, ZblB 52 (1935), 1-47;
M. Grabmann, PhJ 56 (1946), 9-26; bibliography in Miscellanea F. Ehrle, I (Rome 1924),
17-28.
98 Diaries, letters and memoirs, ed. W. Wiihr (Heidelberg 1950); also A. Schniitgen,
AHVNrh 151-2 (1952), 435-45; A. Pelzer in RHE 46 (1951), 192-201; obituary by
P. Dengel, HJ 49 (1929), 1-32.
37
Allgemeinen Kirchengeschichte by Joseph Hergenrother (f 1890), who

was raised to the cardinalate in 1879. Passing through several revisions,
the last complete edition being published by J. P. Kirsch (4 vols., 1911-17),
this work survived into the twentieth century. Specially written for
academic use were the textbooks, first published in 1872-5, of F. X.
Kraus," who was also important as an art historian and archaeologist,
and of Alois Knopfler (1895), and F. X. Funk (1866). Both these scholars
were of the Tubingen school, though the former taught in Munich. Their
books went through many editions and were the most useful textbooks of
their time; but they were very insistent in a critico-positivist way on
the exact reporting of facts. In this respect the instructional works of
Fleinrich Briick (1874), of the Mainz school, and of Jacob Marx (1903),
a professor at Trier, show a marked contrast in their strict ecclesiasticism.
At present, the Kirchengeschichte (3 vols., 12th ed. 1951, 1948, and
1956) of Karl Bihlmeyer (f 1942), based on Funk and revised since his
death by H. Tiichle, is the best general account of moderate size,
distinguished by its concise formulation and its wealth of bibliographies.
There is also an Italian edition by J. Rogger in four volumes. The second
volume in English appeared in 1963 translated by V. Mills and F. Muller.
Like most of the preceding textbooks, Bihlmeyer’s work took over from
profane history the customary threefold division into Antiquity, the Middle
Ages, and the Modern Age, although this in comparison with many
textbooks of the Enlightenment represents a backward step. Die Katho-
lische Kirche im Wandel der Zeiten und Volker by A. Ehrhard99100 and
W. Neuss (4 vols., 1959) and the Geschichte der Kirche in ideengeschicht-
licher Betrachtung by J. Lortz (21st ed., 1962-4) are aimed at a wider
public. The Geschichte der Pdpste (6 vols., 2nd ed., by G. Schwaiger
since 1954) by F. X. Seppelt spans the whole of Church history, as does
the same author’s one-volume Papstgeschichte.
Only after the turn of the century, when Church history in France had
received a new impetus, especially from the fundamental researches and
publications of Louis Duchesne (f 1922) and Pierre Batiffol (J 1929) on
Christian antiquity, did there appear in that country also textbooks on
the German model, such as those of L. Marion and V. Lacombe (1905)
and of C. Poulet (1926), and comprehensive manuals, like F. Mourret’s
Histoire generate de PPglise (9 vols. 1909 21) or the Histoire de I’Eglise
under the editorship of A. Fliche and V. Martin, planned in twenty-four
volumes but not yet completed (since 1935). An Italian version of this
99 F. X. Kraus, Tagebiicher, ed. H. Schiel (Cologne 1957); with a remarkably complete

bibliography, 765-88.
100 A. Dempf, Albert Ehrhard (Colmar 1944); J. M. Hoeck, “Der Nachlafi Albert Ehrhards
und seine Bedeutung fur die Byzantinistik” in ByZ 21 (1951), 171-8.
38
project was begun in 1938. The English version is published in four

volumes (1942-8). In Italy textbooks have been written by L. Todesco
(6 vols., 1922-30), A. Saba (3 vols., 1938-43), and P. Paschini (3 vols.,
1931); and in England by Philip Hughes (3 vols., 1934-47).
In the many textbooks and general accounts, which it would be both
impossible and unnecessary to enumerate in full, we can see that the idea
of the Church’s historical character has been generally accepted and that
Church history has been recognized as a theological discipline. Having
become a science, it is subject to those tendencies which are commonly
observable in the science of our time. The pre-eminence of research has led
to the founding of numerous periodicals and series of publications dealing
with ecclesiastical history, to the collecting of the results of work in
institutes and the training in seminars of future researchers. Progressive
specialization has resulted in the separation of large fields of study from
general Church history and in their becoming independent. As a reaction
against specialization and also against the positivism of the nineteenth
century, there has been since the second world war a marked tendency
towards a theology of history and ecclesiology.
The upsurge of research made the foundation of special periodicals and
series of publications necessary.101 The Zeitschrift fiir Kirchengeschichte,
founded by the Protestant theologian T. Brieger in 1876, which at first
concerned itself mainly with researches on the Reformation period, was
joined in 1887 by the Rbmische Quartalschrift fur Christliche Archdo-
logie und Kirchengeschichte, which published work on Roman archaeology
and newly-discovered source-material in the Vatican archives, under the
direction of Anton de Waal (f 1917), H. Finke and S. Ehses. The
Historisches Jahrbuch of the Gorres Society also contained numerous
contributions to Church History. The Revue d’histoire ecclesiastique,
founded at Louvain by Alfred Cauchie in 1900, became an indispensable
organ of research, since, besides containing essays and critiques, it also
published a complete bibliography of all the works important for the
study of Church history. In Italy, in spite of the collaboration of such
eminent scholars as G. Mercati and P. Franchi de’ Cavalieri, the Miscel
lanea di Storia Ecclesiastica (1902) and the Rivista storico-critica delle
Scienze teologiche (1904) had to close down as a consequence of the
Modernist Dispute. On the other hand, the Zeitschrift fur Schweizerische
Kirchengeschichte (1907) and the Revue d’histoire de I’Eglise de France
(1910) continued to appear, playing an influential part in the growth of
historical studies of the Church in Switzerland and France. In North
America, P. Guilday, who had been trained at Louvain, founded the
101 R. Aubert, “Un demi-siecle de revues d’histoirc ecclesiastique” in RSTI 14 (1960),

173-202.
39
Catholic Historical Review (1917); and Holland had possessed the Neder-
lands Archief voor Kerkgeschiedenis since 1900. Periodicals for diocesan
history had been established in Germany since the nineteenth century, like
the Annalen des Historischen Vereins fiir den Niederrhein, hes. das alie
Erzbistum Koln (1855) and the Freiburger Didzesanarchiv (1865); and
the number of these increased in the twentieth century, as by the Archiv
fiir Elsassische Kirchengeschichte (1926), the Archiv fiir Schlesische
Kirchengeschichte (1936) and the Archiv fiir Mittelrheinische Kirchen
geschichte (1949). Even before the first world war, several of the greatest
orders had started periodicals for the study of their own history: Among
these were the Studien und Mitteilungen aus dem Benediktiner- und
Zisterzienserorden (1880), the Revue Mabillon and the Analectes de
Vordre de Premontre (both 1905), the Archivum Franciscanum historicum
(1908), and the Archivo Ibero-Americano (1914).
The results of research which were too extensive for the periodicals
were published in series: H. Schrors and M. Sdralek had been editing their
Kirchengeschichtliche Studien since 1891; and from these Sdralek branched
out into his Kirchengeschichtliche Abhandlungen. The Veroffentlichungen
des Kirchenhistorischen Seminars Miinchen (1899) and the Forschungen
zur Christlichen Literatur- und Dogmengeschichte (1900), edited by
A. Knopfler, were of a similar character; the latter included A. Ehrhard
as one of its editors. The preponderance of Reformation history at that
time found simultaneous expression in the founding of three series of
publications: Erlduterungen und Frgdnzungen zu Janssens Geschiclote des
Deutschen Volkes (1898) by L. Pastor, Vorreformationsgeschichtliche
Forschungen (1900) by H. Finke, and Reformationsgeschichtliche Studien
und Texte (1905) by J. Greving.102 These had been preceded by Harnack’s
Texte und Untersuchungen zur Geschichte der A lt christlichen Literatur
(1882). In addition to the periodicals, numerous series of publications
edited by ecclesiastical universities, faculties and religious orders assembled
the results of research in the field of Church history.
These developments were made easier by the steady improvement of
scientific aids. While the Series episcoporum (1873) of the Benedictine
B. Gams was based only on printed sources, the Hierarchia catholica (from
1898) of the Franciscan Conrad Eubel and his successors drew upon the
newly opened Vatican archives for their historical statistics of the
episcopate.103 The Nomenclator litterarius of the Jesuit Hugo Hurter
(5 vols., 3rd ed., 1903-13) was unable to replace the old lexica of writers
of the religious orders, but went beyond du Pin and Ceillier. Works of
102 Jedin, Joseph Greving (Munster 1954).

103 Jedin, “Die Hierarchia Catholica als universalgeschichtliche Aufgabe”, in Saeculum 12
(1961), 169-80.
40
such exhaustive learning as U. Chevalier’s Repertoire (first published

1877-86), his Topo-Bibliographie (1894-1903) and P. Jaffe’s Regesta
pontificum Romanorum (1851, 2nd ed. 1885-8) had not been at the
disposal of earlier generations of students. Excellent bibliographies, such
as Dahlmann-Waitz’s Quellenkunde der Deutschen Geschichte (9th ed.,
1931) for Germany, made information about early works readily available.
The historical content of theological encyclopedias was continually being
augmented, as can be seen if we compare the second edition of Wetzer
and Welte’s Kirchenlexikon (1822-1901) with M. Buchberger’s Kirch-
liches Handlexikon (1904-12) and the Lexikon fiir Theologie und Kirche
(1930-8, 2nd ed. from 1957). On the Protestant side, the copiousness and
completeness of the Realencyclopddie fiir Protestantische Theologie und
Kirche (3rd ed. by A. Hauck, 1896-1913) have not been surpassed, even
by the excellent but differently planned Religion in Geschichte und Gegen-
wart (3rd ed. from 1957). The Dictionnaire de theologie catholique
(1902-50) has been joined by the Dictionnaire d’archeologie chretienne et
de liturgie (1924-53) and the Dictionnaire d’histoire et de geographic
ecclesiastique (begun in 1912 but not yet completed).
The rise of Modernism and the circumstances of the first world war
hindered but did not interrupt the growth of historical enquiry. Hitherto,
Germany, France, and Belgium had been the foremost countries in
promoting its advance; now the reorganization of ecclesiastical studies
by Pope Pius X I was of great importance in extending its influence beyond
their frontiers. The constitution Deus Scientiarum Dominus of 24 May
1931 enjoined theological faculties and ecclesiastical colleges to establish
seminars for the provision of methodical training.104 At the Gregorian
University a faculty of Church history was set up in 1934 to train teachers
and archivists, especially for Italy, Spain, and Latin America. About the
same time the Jesuits, Dominicans, Augustinians, and Capuchins established
institutes for the study of the history of their orders, to which were
entrusted the editing of sources and the publication of periodicals. Several
new periodicals have appeared during and since the end of the second
world war: Traditio (from 1943) in America; the Rivista di storia della
Chiesa in Italia (from 1947) in Italy; Hispania Sacra (from 1948) in
Spain; and the interdenominational Journal of Ecclesiastical History
(from 1950) in England.105
The specialization of research has led to the independence of certain
disciplines and their separation from general Church history, as is shown
104 AAS 29 (1931), 254.

105 Jedin, “Drei neue Zcitschriften fiir Kirschengeschichte in Italien, Spanien, und Eng
land” in ZKG 63 (1950-1), 201-4. K. Aland, “Der Stand der patristischen Forschung
in Deutschland”, Misc. hist. eccl. (Louvain 1961), 119-36.
41
by the establishment of special professional chairs and periodicals and

the writing of specialized textbooks. History of ecclesiastical literature,
which had been incorporated in the theological curriculum along with
Church history in the eighteenth century, has been deepened in method
and narrowed down in time to patrology, in the study of which the German
Protestant school, represented by Adolf von Harnack’s Texte und JJnter-
suchungen zur Geschichte der Altchristlicben Literatur (from 1882), has
distinguished itself, the results of its work being collected in textbooks
and manuals. In Germany the lead was taken by Otto Bardenhewer’s Ge
schichte der Altkirchlichen Literatur (5 vols., 1913-32) and B. Altaner’s
Patrologie (6th ed. 1960, Eng. tr. Patrology, 1960); in France by the
Patrologie of F. Cayre (3 vols., 3rd ed. 1945-55), to which is attached a
history of theology (Eng. tr. A Manual of Patrology), and in the English-
speaking world by J. Quasten’s Patrology (3 vols., 1950-60). The Bulletin
d’ancienne litterature of the Revue henedictine gave information about
new publications, as from 1959 onwards did the Bibliographia patristica,
based on international co-operation; the Vigiliae Christianae (from 1947)
are devoted mainly to linguistic research. The history of medieval
theological literature became partly the province of Middle Latin philology
(as in the work of L. Traube, M. Manitius, P. Lehmann, and E. R. Curtius)
and partly that of Scholastic research, flourishing since the turn of the
century (as exemplified in the work of H. Denifle, F. Ehrle, C. Baeumker,
M. Grabmann, B. Geyer, and A. Landgraf). For such extensive fields as
that of medieval biblical interpretation and the history of preaching,
research is still only at the beginning; and for this aspect the contribution
of F. Stegmiiller should be noted. A concise but comprehensive Geschichte
der Theologie seit der Vaterzeit (1933) has been written by M. Grabmann.
By a process similar to that which has taken place in the case of history
of Christian Literature, Christian archaeology has detached itself from
classical archeology. Gianbattista de Rossi (f 1894) raised it to the rank
of a science and made it his object to render monuments, inscriptions, and
patristic texts available to students of early Christian life. At first the
area of interest of this kind was exclusively Roman, as in the extensive
and important works of Joseph Wilpert (f 1940) on the paintings in the
Catacombs and on Christian sarcophagi and mosaics. But the situation
has now been remedied as a result of excavations in the Christian East by
J. Strzygowski, C. M. Kaufmann, and others, and by a detailed study of
the relations between Classical antiquitiy and Christianity, in the work
of F. J. Dolger (f 1940)106 and T. Klauser’s Reallexikon fur Antike und
i°6 t . Klauser, F. J. Dolger, Leben und Werk (Munster 1956); with bibliography by
K. Baus.
42
Christentum (from 1941). The Bollettino di archeologia cristiana, founded

by de Rossi in 1863, became in 1924 the Rivista di archeologia cristiana.
At the same time Pius XI established the Pontifical Institute for Christian
Archaeology, of which J. P. Kirsch (f 1941) became the first director.
The College of Bollandists, refounded in 1837, flourished again under
three outstanding directors: Charles de Smedt (f 1911), Hippolyte Dele-
h aye(f 1941) and Paul Peeters (f 1950). Hagiography acquired its leading
periodical in the three “libraries” : the Bibliotheca hagiographica: graeca,
latina, and orientalis. 107
Patrology, Christian archaeology, and hagiography were the offspring
of ecclesiastical history. A number of other special disciplines arose
through reciprocal action with other sciences, especially when these had
an historical orientation and therefore concerned themselves with certain
spheres of the Church’s activity. On the Catholic side, the history of
dogma has been least able to detach itself from dogmatic theology. The
incomplete essays of H. Klee, J. Schwane, and J. Bach in the nineteenth
century have indeed been followed by many not insignificant individual
researches and in 1905-12 by a history of dogma in the ancient Church
by L. J. Tixeront; but there has been no general account comparable to the
Protestant histories of dogma by A. von Harnack, R. Seeberg, and
F. Loofs. The Handbuch der Dogmengeschichte of M. Schmaus and
A. Grillmeier (from 1951, Eng. tr. Herder History of Dogma, from 1964)
is concerned with the history of individual dogmas only.
In the study of Greek Orthodox literature and liturgy, Leo Allatius
( t 1669), Joseph Assemani (f 1768) and his nephew of the same name,
followed in the nineteenth century by cardinals Angelo Mai (f 1854)
and J. B. Pitra (f 1889), all did meritorious work. But only after Karl
Krumbacher (f 1909) had established Byzantine studies as an independent
discipline did Albert Ehrhard write, at Krumbacher’s instigation, the first
history of theological literature in the Byzantine Empire (1897); and this
was superseded only in 1959 by H. G. Beck’s Kirche und Theologische
Literatur im Byzantinischen Reich. During the pontificate of Leo X III,
who was himself interested in questions concerning the Eastern Church,
were founded the first periodicals dealing with the history of other Eastern
churches as well as the Byzantine: the Revue de VOrient chretien (1896),
Echos d'Orient (1897) and Oriens Christianus (1901). The latter was
founded by Anton Baumstark (f 1948), whose Geschichte der Syrischen
Literatur (1922) together with the Geschichte der Christlichen Arabischen
Literatur (5 vols., 1944-53) by Georg Graf became the standard works
on Eastern Christian studies. The Pontifical Oriental Institute established
107 Peeters, VCEuvre des Bollandistes, 77-208; R. Aigrain, L’Hagiographie, ses sources,
ses methodes, son histoire (Paris 1953).
43
in 1917 has been publishing Orientalia Christiana periodica since 1935;

and since 1951 the Ostkirchliche Studien have been appearing in Wiirz-
burg.
In liturgical studies, the publication of sources by E. Martene, Eusebius
Renaudot’s Collectio liturgiarum Orientalium (1716), and L. A. Muratori’s
Liturgia Romana vetus (1748) had paved the way towards overcoming
the symbolic explanation of the liturgy. The Enlightenment’s desire for
liturgical reform was unfavourable to liturgical history; even more so was
the nineteenth-century degeneration of liturgical study to that of mere
rubrics. Only by the pioneering researches of L. Duchesne, P. Batiffol,
S. Baeumer, E. Bishop, A. Franz, J. Braun, C. Mohlberg, and J. Jungmann
did the historical view of the liturgy prevail, while at the same time the
source-material was extended by the Bradshaw Society (from 1890), the
Analecta hymnica (from 1886) of M. Dreves and C. Blume, which were
later followed by the editions of the Ordines Romani and the Pontificate
Romanum by M. Andrieu (f 1956), and the survey of the French liturgical
manuscripts by V. M. Leroquais (f 1946). The Jahrhuch fur Liturgie-
wissenschaft founded in 1291 by Odo Casel, and renamed the Archiv fur
Liturgiewissenschaft since 1950, gave its annual reports an almost complete
survey of new works in this field. At the University of Notre Dame a
programme of liturgical studies was introduced in 1947 which has
produced a series of scholarly volumes entitled Liturgical Studies to which
L. Bouyer, J. Danielou, and J. Jungmann have contributed. In other
liturgical periodicals, such as Ephemerides liturgicae (from 1887), the
historical viewpoint now dominates. This has had considerable influence
on the development of the liturgical movement, in consequence of which
liturgical science has now become an independent theological discipline.
In the study of Canon Law history, development was otherwise. This sub
ject could build on the great achievements by Thomassin and Benedict XIV;
in the nineteenth century it was aided by the school of legal history and
reached its peak in the Protestant canonist Paul Hinschius (f 1889) and
his pupil Ulrich Stutz (f 1938), who founded in 1908 the leading organ
of the history of canon law: the canonistic section of the Zeitschrift der
Savigny-Stiftung fur Rechtsgeschichte. For the history of the sources and
literature of canon law Johann Friedrich von Schulte (f 1914) wrote what
is still in spite of many defects an indispensable work of reference: Die
Geschichte der Quellen und Literatur des canonischen Rechts (3 vols.,
1875-80). This branch of study was promoted at the same time by Fried
rich Maassen (f 1900), later by Paul Fournier (f 1935), and most recently
by Stephen Kuttner, who founded an institute for the history of medieval
Church law at Washington in 1955. Among systematic studies of canon
law, besides the classic Kirchenrccht (6 vols., 1869-97; new impression,
Graz, 1959) by Hinschius, the textbook by the Tubingen canonist
44
J. B. Sagmiiller (f 1942) is noteworthy for its painstaking regard for

legal history: the final complete version of this work was the third edition
in 1914; the fourth edition remained unfinished after the promulgation of
the new Codex Juris Canonici. Still unsurpassed is the Verfassungs-
geschichte der Deutschen Kirche im Mittelalter by Albert Werminghoff
(2nd ed., 1913). The outlines by A. M. Koniger (1926), I. Zeiger (1940-7),
and Bertrand Kurtscheid (1941-3) were intended for academic instruction;
the best general accounts in German are by H. E. Feine, a pupil of Stutz,
(4th ed., 1964) and W. M. Plochl (Vienna, I 2nd ed., 1960; II 2nd ed.,
Vienna 1962; III 1st ed., Vienna 1959).
The history of Missions became an independent study only after
missionary science had been born. In Protestant Germany the way was
prepared by Gustav Warneck (f 1910). The first occupant of a Catholic
chair for missionary science (1914) was the Church historian Joseph
Schmidlin (J 1944), who occupied himself from the beginning with
missionary history in the Zeitschrift fur Missionswissenschaft (1911) and
in the series Missionswissenschaftliche Abhandlungen und Texte, which
he founded. His Katboliscbe Missionsgeschicbte (1925) was the first
convenient textbook on the subject. The establishment of further chairs
and of a missiological faculty at the Gregorian University in 1932 by
Pius X I was followed by the appearance of other textbooks: by P. Lesourd
(1937), F. J. Montalban (2nd ed. 1952), T. Ohm’s Wichtige Daten der
Missionsgeschicbte (2nd ed. 1961), and A. Mulders’s Missions-
gescbichte (1960); and by longer works: the Histoire universelle
des Missions catholiques (4 vols., s. d.), edited by S. Delacroix, and K. S.
Latourette’s A History of the Expansion of Christianity (7 vols., 1937-47).
In the Bibliotheca Missionum (22 vols. so far since 1916), founded by
R. Streit, missionary history received an almost complete bibliography,
which has been supplemented since 1935 by the current Bibliografia
missionaria of J. Rommerskirchen and others. Numerous periodicals, such
as the Revue d’historie des Missions (1924) and the Neue Zeitschrift fur
Missionswissenschaft (1946), and series of publications like the Studia
missionalia (1943) of the Gregorian University, all these help research,
which is always facing new problems arising from missionary methods:
baptismal practice, the question of the vernacular, adaptation to native
customs, and a native clergy.
How important the introduction of a new discipline into the theological
curriculum can be for the development of a special science related to
Church history is demonstrated by the history of asceticism and mysticism
which has been built up during recent decades. Ascetic and mystical
theology was made a subject on instruction by the constitution Deus
Scientiarum Dominus (1931); a corresponding chair at the Gregorian
University had already been established in 1919. In the meantime there
45
had appeared H. Bremond’s Histoire litteraire du sentiment religieux

en France (12 vols., 1916-38) and P. Pourrat’s La spiritualite chretienne
(4 vols., 1918-28). Periodicals treating the subject from an historical angle
were founded: such as the Revue d’ascetique et de mystique (1920) and
the Zeitschrift fur Aszese und Mystik (1926; since 1947 under the title
Geist und Leben); from their beginnings, such periodicals as these dealt
with the subject historically, but other and older publications to an
increasing degree treated the subject in a similar way: an example of
this kind is the Etudes carmelitaines (from 1913). The Dictionnaire de
spiritualite has been since 1937 an excellent work of reference. The great
religious orders are working on their own traditions of asceticism, produc
ing editions of their classics such as the writings of Ignatius or Teresa of
Avila, publishing these works both in monographs and in general
accounts, as in J. de Guibert’s La spiritualite de la Compagnie de Jesus
(1953). Much preliminary work has to be done towards carrying out the
task of writing a general history of Catholic piety; in this connexion
may be mentioned the study of religious folklore by L. A. Veit (f 1939),
G. Schreiber, and others.
Although the specialized sciences mentioned above have become
independent and belong at the same time both to neighbouring theological
disciplines and to other branches of learning (as do also the history of
Christian art and that of Church music, which we have not touched upon),
dogma, law, liturgy, and Missions belong particularly to the realm of
general Church history. The latter must continue to study and write
about these if it is to fulfill its task. It is the mother-science; they the
daughters; together they constitute historical theology.
As in all branches of science, the progress of knowledge in Church
history is effected by special research, which has become so extensive that
no scholar is in a position to survey the whole field. General accounts
such as that in the Fliche and Martin series and in the present manual
had therefore to be shared out among several authors. If we talk about a
“reaction” to this development, we do not mean that special research
could or should be abandoned. The “reaction” is not directed against
research, but aims beyond it. It seeks to escape from the practical
positivism which predominated at the turn of the century, and to offer
more than merely an exact exposition and interrelation of facts. It tends
towards pragmatism inasmuch as it judges events ecclesiologically,
as by Y. Congar, H. Lubac, J. Danielou, and K. and H. Rahner,
or ecumenically as by J. Lortz. It tends towards a theology of history
inasmuch as it relates the history of the Church to that of man’s
salvation, and thus leads back to the attitude which prevailed till the
seventeenth century, but has since been pushed into the background by
research into sources and narration of the course of history. Finally, it
46
discusses the problems in the writing of history which have been raised
by E. Troeltsch and F. Meinecke and the historicity of the Church as
such. Only the future will tell if, and how much, these new ways of
looking at things broaden and deepen our knowledge of the history of the
Church.
Church History in England and America
in the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries108
In England as on the continent the status of ecclesiastical history in
the nineteenth century was largely determined by the reactions of the
Romantic movement to the rationalism of the Enlightenment. Enlightened
historians of the eighteenth century, Hume, Robertson, and Gibbon, studied
and wrote history because they found it a useful teacher of private virtue
and correct public policy. Hume in The History of England from the
Invasion of Julius Caesar to the Revolution of 1688 (1761) conceived the
medieval Church as a corrupt political monolith, and consequently
interpreted the dissolution of the Church in the sixteenth century as
something politically and economically advantageous to the State. Gib
bon regarded his classic The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire
(1776-88) as a chronicle of the triumph of superstition and barbarism
and described the Church as the great obstacle to progress and the advance
of learning during the Middle Ages. Yet in spite of his rationalism he
was the first of the English historians to appreciate fully the importance
of the element of continuity in history.
The romantic historians, on the other hand, cultivated an appreciation
for the Church’s past by approaching its history in unprejudiced fashion
and attempting to judge it according to its own standards. As a result
their work was characterized by an enthusiasm for the past and a concern
for historical continuity. By seeking the roots for the social organization
of modern England, they succeeded in making the Middle Ages a
respectable period of investigation and thus prepared the way for the
scientific study of ecclesiastical history. The publication of source material
was supported by Parliament. In the late eighteenth century the House
of Commons established the Records Commission to calendar, restore, and
publish manuscripts. In 1822, under the editorship of Henry Petrie, keeper
of the records in the Tower of London, work began on the Monumenta
Britannica Historica which was to collect the medieval sources of national
history but the first volumes did not appear until 1848. Nine years
later the Treasury approved the Master of the Roll’s proposal to publish
critical editions of the rare and valuable sources of British history from
the invasion of the Romans to the reign of Henry VIII.
108 Additional part written by the editor of the English edition.
47
Probably the most widely read ecclesiastical history in the first half
of the nineteenth century was Joseph Milner’s (1744-97) History of the
Church of Christ (1794-1809). Newman said in his Apologia pro vita sua
that reading Milner’s Church history awakened his interest in patristic
Christianity. Milner’s intention was to provide an antidote for histories
of the Church like Mosheim’s which he thought too much concerned with
recording its failures, heresies, and disputes. “The terms ‘church’ and
‘Christian,’” said Milner, “in their natural sense respect only good men.
Such a succession of pious men in all ages existed, and it will be no
contemptible use of such a history as this if it proves that in every age
there have been real followers of Christ.” The Bible, which gave man a
glimpse of himself as 'he really is—a creature fallen but retaining elements
of his original glory—opened the meaning of history for Milner. As an
Evangelical vicar he knew through the experience of conversion what
the Fall and Redemption meant, and, consequently, he could appreciate
the significance of continued failure in the world. If the Fall of man was
apparent in secular history, the Redemption of man was equally apparent
in Church history: God is operative among His people. The guide-line
which enabled Milner to cut neatly through Christian Church history was
the fact that he wrote about no special institution, but about the invisible
collectivity of believers which Evangelicals recognized as the Church.
Milner’s principle of including only those believers who accepted the
doctrine of justification by faith alone as Evangelicals understood it turned
the book into a polemical rewriting of ecclesiastical history. But although
the History of the Church of Christ was intended to provide an inter
pretation satisfactory to Evangelicals, Milner was not averse to praising
good in the Roman Church when he saw it.
Joseph Strutt (1749-1802) is typical of the growing interest in eccle
siastical history that was fostered by romanticism and nationalism. More
interested in social antiquities than political theories, he delved into the
Anglo-Saxon medieval past, examining in great detail the religious and
cultural aspects of early English ecclesiastical history. His The Regal
and Ecclesiastical Antiquities of England from Edward the Confessor
to Henry the Eighth provided a font of information that was to stimulate
a more critical interest among later historians. During the 1830’s and
1840’s this interest bore fruit in the appearance of the Caxton Society,
the English Historical Society, and the Camden Society. At Cambridge
the work of the “Ecclesiologists” gave an impetus to the study of church
architecture and hymnology and laid the groundwork for the English
liturgical revival. The publication of The Symbolism of Churches and
Church Ornaments by J. Neale and W. Webb in 1843, a translation in
part of the Rationale Divinorum Officiorum of William Durandus with
selections from Hugh of Saint Victor, was a milestone in the increasing
48
interest in the history of the liturgy. Neale was also the first English
historian to produce important works on the eastern churches.
August Pugin (1812-52), a convert to Catholicism, was probably the most
well known of the gothic revivalists. In 1850 as Professor of Architecture
and Ecclesiastical Antiquities at Oscott College, he published An Earnest
Appeal for the Revival of Ancient Plain Song which voiced an appeal
for a return to historical sources similar to the works of Chateaubriand
and Gorres. He constantly berated his co-religionists for their lack of
historical perspective and was appalled by the parodies of the liturgy
he witnessed in Rome and Cologne. An interest in the historical origins
of the liturgy continued throughout the nineteenth century in the editions
of Feltoe, Wilson, and Bradshaw.
Easily the most significant English Church historian in the first half
of the nineteenth century was John Lingard (1771-1851). The Antiquities
of the Anglo-Saxon Church (1806), which Lingard intended to be an
apologia for the Roman Catholic Church in England, was a pioneer
accomplishment in scientific history. It was the product of extensive research
in and careful exegesis of Latin and Anglo-Saxon sources, a remarkable
achievement in itself, since neither the Rolls Series nor any other printed
collections were then in existence. Lingard recounted the birth of Christi
anity in Britain, gave a detailed survey of the life and practices of the
Anglo-Saxon Church, and concluded with an account of the Danish
invasions, the consequent decay and later revival of Church discipline, and
a final, somewhat unsatisfactory section of the Anglo-Saxon missions. In
order not to offend non-Catholics, Lingard avoided direct reference to
the Mass, referred to the Pope as the Bishop of Rome and to priests as
presbyters. Throughout he dismissed evidences of the miraculous in the
Anglo-Saxon Church as lately-acquired popularizations and he refrained
from canonizing anyone.
In 1819, when the first three volumes of Lingard’s History of England
were published, many Protestants were attracted to this Roman Catholic
priest who could write history with such candour and truth. Lingard did
not share the romantic fervour of his co-religionists for things medieval
and was hardly of a “pro-Catholic” predisposition. As could be expected,
Catholics rankled when they read about St Joan of Arc’s “mental
delusion”.
His treatment of the Reformation was aimed at dispelling miscon
ceptions and commonly accepted misstatements. He admitted the need for
reform in head and members during the fifteenth century and made no
apologies for the wordly popes of the Renaissance. He frankly stated in
his interpretation of the Reformation, founded on a careful examination
of the sources, that it was a revolution based in contemporary political
upheaval. The secular power in England triumphed over the spiritual power
49
at the expense of civil liberties. Because Lingard found the roots of the
Reformation more directly in Luther and Calvin than in a calm reading
of Scripture and Church history, he asserted that it had broken the
historical tradition of English institutions.
Although Newman (1801-90) cannot be strictly regarded as an
historian, he, nevertheless, as the greatest figure in the Oxford Movement,
contributed to the study of ecclesiastical history in England. He found the
neglect of ecclesiastical history in England, even among Anglican divines,
a sign that Protestants must realize that they were not representative of
the Christianity of History. “It is a melancholy to say it”, he wrote,
“but the chief, perhaps the only English writer who has any claim to be
considered an ecclesiastical historian, is the unbeliever Gibbon.” 109 He
spoke equally well of the Romanticist, Walter Scott, as a writer who
“has contributed by his works in prose and verse, to prepare men for some
closer and more practical approximation to Catholic truth.” The subject
of ecclesiastical history was in fact a field that in a certain sense projected
him into the public eye in England. Patristical studies, especially the
Alexandrians, formed the background of all his theological thinking. His
first important work was to have been a history of the councils. But he
“lost himself in a task for which a lifetime had been insufficient”. The
result of this effort was his Arians of the Fourth Century (1833) which
however gives sparse notice to the councils. Yet the main thesis of the
work, that Antioch rather than Alexandria was the source of Arianism
and that its underlying philosophy was Aristotelian rather than Platonic,
evoked the praise of Dollinger. He reached conclusions through conjecture
and without critical apparatus that were later arrived at by continental
scholars, notably Neander.
Newman’s contribution to the Library of the Fathers, a pioneering
effort in patristics, was the Select Treatise of St Athanasius and has been
described as among the richest treatises of English patristic literature.
He also published in the British Magazine between 1833 and 1836 a
series of essays entitled Church of the Fathers which appeared in 1840
as a one-volume work. It was a most effective instrument in the
propagation of Tractarian opinions. A further historical project that was
never completed was a series of essays on the three periods of Christian
education, ancient medieval, and modern, represented by the three great
founders of religious orders, Benedict, Dominic, and Ignatius, and subtitled
the poetic, the scientific, and the practical eras. It was, however, in his
famous Essay on the Development of Christian Doctrine (1845) that
Newman presented his theory of antecedent probability and confirmed
his philosophy of history as an attempt to grasp the sacred meaning of
109 J. Newman, An Essay on the Development of Christian Doctrine (London 1846), 5.
50
the promise of Christ “I am with you all the days even to the consum
mation of the world.”
Henry H art Milman (1791-1868) gave nineteenth century Englishmen
their best look at the medieval history of the Church. The History of
Christianity under the Empire (1840), which cautious clergymen made
it a point to ignore, served as an introduction to Milman’s later compact
survey of the medieval Church from Theodosius down to the eve of the
Reformation. The History of Latin Christianity down to the death of
Pope Nicholas V (1854-5) is a masterpiece of Victorian literature. The
author traces the modifications of Christianity, by which it accommodated
itself to the spirit of successive ages and portrays the genius of the
Christianity of each successive age, demonstrating the reciprocal influence
of civilization. The same attitude through which Milman de-emphasized
the miraculous in his History of the Jews (1829) led him to focus attention
on the secular activity and life of the Church in his later works. H e was
not interested in theological controversy, and as a consequence he avoided
the anti-Catholic polemic so common among Protestant scholars of his
time. Froude termed the History of Latin Christianity “the finest historical
work in the English language” and Gooch praised him as an historian who
did not write for the edification of his readers but portrayed the Church
as an institution rather than as an influence.110
Along with Milman, William Stubbs (1825-1901) is accredited with the
introduction of German historical methodology in England. He made his
first important contribution to the study of Church history in the
Registrum Sacrum Anglicanum which traced the succession of bishops
through the centuries. In 1863 Stubbs, who had criticized the Records
Commission for publishing too many sources of only secondary importance,
was commissioned as an editor for the Rolls series. Through the magnificent
contributions he made during the next twenty-five years, he inaugurated
the critical study of medieval sources in England. His classic, the Consti
tutional History of England down to 1485 (1873-8) had a wider range
than the title indicated. It was, in effect, a history of England from Julius
Caesar down to the accession of the Tudors.
In 1866 Stubbs became professor of Modern History at Oxford. His
inaugural lecture indicates his efforts to emanicipate “the history of the
Church as a whole” from its theological heritage. By this Stubbs meant
that Church history was beginning to be considered as a discipline inde
pendent from theology. Ecclesiastical history was broadened to a more
universal study, and freed from its former restriction to the first Christian
centuries and the general councils. It became ‘the study of the Church as
a whole . . . as the life of the Christian Church itself, the whole history
110 G. P. Gooch, History and Historians in the Nineteenth Century (Boston 1962), 499.
51
of the body of which the modern nations claim in their spiritual character
to be members”. Stubbs considered this study of universal Church history
as one with the study of Modern History:
“The study of Modern History is, next to theology itself . . . the most
thoroughly religious training the mind can receive. It is no paradox to
say that Modern History, including Medieval History in the term, is co
extensive in its field of view, in its habits of criticism, in the persons of its
most famous students, with Ecclesiastical History. We may call them sister
studies, but if they are not really one and the same, they are twin sisters,
so much alike that there is no distinguishing between them.” 111
Lord Acton (1834-1902), the first Catholic to hold the chair of Modern
History at Cambridge, with Stubbs would not separate ecclesiastical and
profane history, but for different reasons. Acton perceived that the only
unifying element in history was the conception of freedom and his fondest
plan, which he never realized, was to write a universal history of human
liberty. The Church, in Acton’s vision of world history, cannot withdraw
from the confusion of modern politics with the excuse that its kingdom is
not of this world. The Church is incarnate in the temporal, political order,
so that its history is a part of this world’s experience. “Religion”, wrote
Acton, “had to transform the public as well as the private life of nations,
to effect a system of public right corresponding with private morality and
without which it is imperfect and insecure.” The Church’s role in history
binds her to work on and influence temporal order, and as a consequence,
her history has universal significance.
In Acton’s political theory the Church is a guardian of free conscience
and a barrier against political despotism in any shape, whether it be
absolute monarchy or rationalist democracy. The Church was the only
force powerful enough to ensure human freedom against the rise of
omnipotent States. Acton was critical of the Reformation and the establish
ment of Protestant States because it weakened the institution whose
mission included the preservation of human freedom.
The other side of the coin — the tendency of churchmen in authority
to curtail freedom of conscience — was impressed upon Acton through
bitter personal experience. In 1859 at the age of twenty-five Acton became
the editor of the Rambler, a liberal Catholic journal which insisted
thematically in every issue that scientific truth could not but vindicate
the true religion. If unsavoury truths in the history of the Church are
covered up, Acton said, the authority of the Church confuses its heavenly
goal with a perverse attachment to earthly power and property. When it
became apparent thet the Rambler was about to be suppressed, in 1862
111 B. W. Stubbs, Seventeen Lectures on the Study of Medieval and Modern History
(Oxford 1887), 10.
52
Acton began publishing it under a new name, The Home and Foreign
Review, but he did not change the editorial policy. The journal collided
head on with the hierarchy in 1863 by supporting Dollinger, Acton’s
mentor, in his plea made at a Munich Catholic Congress for the Church
to end its hostility to historical criticism. The Pope’s response was a
demand for prior censorship of Catholic writing in Germany. With
disaster portending for the Home and Foreign Review, Acton closed it
in April, 1864, rather than provoke a showdown with the hierarchy in
which he would either have to suspend his principles or disobey authority.
Acton never wrote his History of Liberty or any other complete,
systematic work, but his vision of history in general and his appreciation
of truth and free conscience in particular commend themselves as standards
to the writer of ecclesiastical history. " It is the duty of the historian”,
wrote Acton in an appendix to a letter to Mandell Creighton, "to extricate
himself from the influence of social groups, political parties, Church, and
the like, which tend to interfere with conscience.” This is an accurate
summary of Acton’s opinion on his own situation. The condemnation of
the final heresy by Pius IX in the Syllabus of Errors, reads like a declara
tion of Acton’s principles: "The Roman Pontiff can and ought to reconcile
himself to, and agree with, progress, liberalism, and recent civilization.”
The attitude towards the historical interpretation of the papacy was the
point of difference between Acton and Mandell Creighton (1843-1901).
As a curate of Bishop Lightfoot in the Northumberland village of
Embleton, he began to write A History of the Papacy from the Great
Schism to the Sack of Rome (1887-94). " It would fill a void”, said
Creighton of his book, "between Milman, which becomes very scrappy
towards its close, and Ranke’s ‘Popes’, and my object is to combine the
picturesqueness of the one with the broad political views of the other.” 112
Creighton’s interest in political and diplomatic technique gave the History
of the Papacy a broader scope than the title indicates, for he used the
papacy as a focal point to study the changes in European history during
the sixteenth century. On Creighton’s request Lord Acton reviewed the
first two volumes which appeared in 1882 and praised Creighton for his
"sovereign impartiality”. What Acton found lacking was concern for the
force of ideas in history, and what he objected most to was the favourable
verdict on conciliarism. Creighton finished the next two volumes in 1887,
three years after he was appointed first Dixie Professor of Ecclesiastical
History at Cambridge and two years after he became the first editor of
the English Historical Review. Again he requested Acton’s review and
when Acton responded with a severe critique, naked of all the usual,
softening academic amenities, he found himself in the unenviable position
112 Quoted in Gooch, op. cit. pp. 349, 350.
53
of an editor who requested, received, and was about to publish a condem

nation of his own work. Acton’s objections were two. In the first place he
criticized Creighton’s evading moral judgments on the papacy, and
secondly, he thought Creighton’s attention to life and action was a
superficial substitute for thought and law. He was also critical of
Creighton’s remarks in the preface, indicating his willingness to explain
away the questionable activities of the popes. Neither Acton nor
Creighton were surprised with evil when they found it in history, but
Creighton was more tolerant of weakness and less quick to judge. For
example, he did not cover up the vices of Pope Alexander VI, but he
salvaged what he could of the Pope’s reputation by praising him for not
adding hypocrisy to his sins. Acton would not yield his stand that the
office could not absolve the man; the exchange of letters between him and
Creighton concerning Acton’s review occasioned Acton’s famous dictum
“Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.” Acton
toned down the language but did not alter the content of his article.
Downside Abbey has given England a number of ecclesiastical historians.
William Bernard Ullathorne (1806-89), monk of Downside and Bishop
of Birmingham for thirty-eight years, wrote a small octavo History of
the Restoration of the English Hierarchy which he published in 1871.
The first of several abbots of Downside who made significant contributions
to the study of Church history was Francis Neil Gasquet (1846-1929).
Gasquet was forty years old when he began to research the history of
monasticism in England during the Tudor period. He wras the first scholar
to treat the papers of Cromwell methodically and the first to use the
records of the Court of Augmentations and the pension list of Cardinal
Pole. Working seven or eight hours daily in the British Museum, the
Public Records Office, and with private collections, in three years he
produced Henry VIII and the English Monasteries. Edward V I and the
Book of Common Prayer followed in 1890.
In 1900 Gasquet published The Eve of the Reformation which grew out
of the article he had submitted to Lord Acton for the Cambridge Modern
History. Acton returned the article because Gasquet’s standard of
impartiality was somewhat different from his and the difference was
never settled. Although he was a gifted antiquary credited with many
discoveries and with recognizing the value of wills, library records,
inventories, and bishops’ registers for historical interpretation, Gasquet
was not only a careless scholar, but he also lacked the fidelity demanded
of an editor. “Towards the end of his life, indeed,” observed David
Knowles, “Gasquet’s capacity for carelessness amounted almost to genius.”
“In his transcription of the Acton correspondence . . . Gasquet consistently
omitted or even altered without indication passages of phrases which
might . . . cause personal offence or exhibit Acton’s critical or petulant
54
attitude toward venerable ecclesiastics. Thus he would print ‘Newman’

where Acton had written ‘old Noggs’, and the forthright remark ‘Pius IV
was an ass’ appears in the anodyne form ‘Pius IV was no good’.” 113
Because of his friendship with Gasquet, Edmund Bishop (1846-1917),
although not one of its sons, will always have his name associated with
Downside Abbey. Before Bishop became a Catholic in 1867 he had
served a year as literary secretary to Thomas Carlyle (1864). He
demonstrated his gift for scholarship in his discovery, transcription, and
analysis of the Collectio Britannica which consisted in some three hundred
papal briefs from the fifth to the twelfth centuries previously unknown.
Bishop, unable to have them published in England, edited them for the
Monumenta Germanica Historica and won praise from Mommsen himself.
He was a student of early and medieval Church history and his knowledge
of the western liturgies far surpassed that of any of his contemporaries.
His interest in liturgical studies went beyond the textual and ritual to
a much broader dimension. He was, in effect, an historian of Christian
social and religious life. His natural equipment for research, especially his
vast memory, helped him make his works a treasure-house for other
scholars, including his friend Gasquet. Some of these works were collected
and published in 1918 under the title Liturgica Historica.
In 1919, Dom Cuthbert Butler, another abbot of Downside, published
Benedictine Monachism, which was not merely a history, but a fully
appreciative mystical, ascetical and constitutional study of the Benedictine
spirit. In his discussion on Cassian’s Conference on Prayer and the chapter
‘‘Is Benedictine Life Contemplative?”, he raised the question which became
the topic for his next book, Western Mysticism which appeared in 1922.
In 1930 Butler published the History of the Vatican Council which has
not made so favourable an impression. The book’s weakness has two
sources. On one hand, it grew out of Ullathorne’s letters, which are not
of first importance because the Bishop, not one for theological or
diplomatic warfare, was not attuned to subtle undertones or overtones
in the council wrangling. Moreover, he was not by training an historian
of political and intellectual life and could not deal adequately with the
complex cross-currents of the mid-nineteenth century. It remains, however,
the only satisfactory history of the Council in English.
Dom David Knowles, former Professor of Medieval and Modern
History at Cambridge is the finest scholar of Downside. The Monastic
Order in England which he published in 1940 begins amid the tenth
century, because it was then that St Dunstan founded anew Anglo-Saxon
monasticism which disappeared during the Danish invasions. In the first
half of the book Knowles studies the influence of various continental
113 D. Knowles, The Historian and Character (Cambridge 1963), 256.
55
houses on monastic foundations and reforms in England, noting especially

the distinctions between Cluniac attitudes of withdrawal from the world
and the tendency of Norman monasticism to fit itself into society. The
second half studied the internal life and structure of the monasteries. In
the first two volumes of the Religious Orders of England Knowles
continued the history of the Benedictine revival down to the end of the
Wars of the Roses. Volume III, The Tudor Age, appeared in 1959, thirty
years after he began his initial research. It is the history of the decline and
deep-rooted decay of monasticism in England before the destruction by
Henry VIII. Mention must also be made of two other contemporary
English Church historians, H. O. Evenett, whose study on Charles Guise,
The Cardinal of Lorraine and the Council of Trent is a substantial
contribution to the Counter-Reformation period, and Philip Hughes. The
latter’s History of the Church, 3 vols. (1934-47) and his The Reformation
in England, 3 vols. (1950-4) are standard works in English-speaking lands.
The first history of the Church to be written and published in the
United States was the six-volume A General History of the Christian
Church (1802-3) by the Unitarian J. A. Priestley. The author held high
regard for Fleury whom he used extensively and for Mosheim although
he criticized the latter for his “artificial and unnatural” division by
centuries. He particularly deplored the artful insinuations of Gibbon.
Milner and Mosheim continued to be read by American Protestants but
were gradually replaced by translations of Gieseler and Neander.
P. Schaff’s History of the Christian Church (1882-1910) is typical of the
strong German influence on American Protestant historiography during
the later nineteenth century.
The layman, John G. Shea (1824-92), may be regarded as the foremost
Catholic Church historian of the nineteenth century in America. Although
lacking in formal professional training, he nevertheless produced work of
a highly scientific nature. His four-volume History of the Catholic Church
in America (1886-92) was the first comprehensive work of this kind.
Since most of the documentary material relating to the early Church in
America, deposited in the archives of the Propaganda de Fide, has not
been utilized, there is as yet no adequate “History of the Church in America”.
Peter Guilday (1884-1947), who studied under A. Cauchie at Louvain,
directed most of his research into the colonial period. The Life and Times
of John Carroll Archbishop of Baltimore (1922) set the pattern for
subsequent Catholic historians in America who have concentrated for the
most part in writing biographies of the hierarchy. Guilday’s An Introduc
tion to Church History (1925) and Church Historians (1926), the latter
a collection of essays on Eusebius, Orosius, Mohler, Lingard, Pastor, and
others, were the first attempts to stimulate an interest in the serious study
of ecclesiastical history among American Catholics.
56
PART O N E
SECTION ONE
Jewish Christianity
C hapter 1
Judaism in the Time of Jesus

T he New Testament account of salvation history tells us that Jesus Christ
came into this world “when the fullness of time was come” (Gal 4:4,
Mk 1:14). A longing for the promised Messiah was certainly alive in Jewry
at that time, but it was more generally rooted in the political distress of
the people than in religious motives. For more than half a century the
Jewish people had lived under Roman domination, which was all the more
hated because it was exercised by a man who had deeply offended their
most sacred national and religious feelings. Herod the Great, the son of
Caesar’s friend Antipater — an Idumaean and therefore a foreigner — had
contrived to obtain from the Roman Senate the title of King of the Jews, in
return for which he had to pledge himself to protect Roman interests in the
politically important Near East, especially against the dangerous Parthians.
He had first to conquer his kingdom by force of arms, and from the
moment that he first trod upon Palestinian soil he was met by the hatred
of the people, who under the leadership of the Hasmonaean prince
Antigonus offered violent resistance to him. Herod overcame this with
Roman assistance and took Jerusalem in 37 b.c . He ruthlessly exterminated
the Hasmonaean dynasty, which more than a century earlier, under Judas
Maccabaeus and his brothers, had defended Jewish religious freedom in
an heroic struggle against Syrian overlordship. Herod managed to hold in
check the seething fury of the people, but in his efforts to win the hearts
of his subjects by rebuilding the Temple, founding new cities, and promoting
the economic and cultural life of his kingdom, he failed. In his will he
divided the kingdom among his three younger sons: the central part, Judaea,
with Samaria and Idumaea, was left to Archelaus, who was also to
inherit the royal title. The adjacent territory to the north went to Herod
Antipas, the provinces of Batanaea, Trachonitis, and Auranitis in the
north-east, to Philip.
However, the change of ruler led in Judaea to serious disturbances, which
could be put down only with the help of the Roman army. The Romans,
59
JEWISH CHRISTIANITY
seeing that Archelaus was unable to guarantee peace and security, deposed
him in 6 b.c . Augustus gave the country a new administration in the person
of a Roman procurator who had Caesarea as his official residence and who
was responsible, in association with the Roman governor in Syria, for the
military security and economic control of the region, while the Sanhedrin,
a purely Jewish body under the presidency of the high priest, was made
competent for Jewish internal affairs. But even this arrangement failed
to bring the awaited civil peace. For the Jews, it was a grave affront to
their national consciousness that a Roman cohort was always stationed
in Jerusalem and that their taxes were fixed by Romans. Many a procurator
overplayed his role as representative of the Roman master-race with too
much emphasis and so fed the flames of hatred against foreign domination.
The root cause of the continued strained relations between political overlords
and subject people is, however, to be found in the latter’s unique intellectual
and spiritual character, for which a Roman could hardly have had much
understanding.
The Religious Situation among Palestinian Jewry

The Jewish people was, in the eyes of surrounding nations, characterized
above all by the peculiarity of its religious convictions, which it sought to
defend in the midst of utterly different currents of thought and forms of
worship. While not avoiding contact with this surrounding world in
every-day life, the Jews had held fast to the essential features of their faith
and religious life with remarkable persistence, even when it cost them heavy
sacrifices and resulted in isolation from other peoples. The central point
of the Jewish religion was its monotheism; the Jews were conscious of
being led, throughout all the phases of their history, by the one true God,
Jahweh, for he had often revealed himself to them as their only Lord
by his immediate intervention or by the word of his prophets. This belief
in the guidance of a just and faithful God might, indeed, waver in its
degree of intensity and immediacy, and it might in later times be exposed
through the speculations of many rabbis to the danger of a certain
rigidity, yet the people never lost it. The pious Jew planned his daily life
out of his belief in God’s faithful and merciful guidance: the people as a
whole knew themselves to have been chosen before all the nations of the
world by the Covenant which he had made with them, so that one day
salvation for all men might go forth from them. This faith was nourished
by the hope in a future Saviour and Redeemer, whom the prophets had
unwearyingly proclaimed as the Messiah. This hope constantly raised up
again both individuals and people. The Messiah was to spring from among
them and to establish in Israel the kingdom of God, thus raising Israel
above all the kingdoms of the world, and he was to be king over them.
60
JUDAISM IN THE TIME OF JESUS
This expectation of the Messiah and of the kingdom of God was, in

times of grave peril for the religious and political freedom of the people,
their chief source of strength. With merging of religious and political life,
the idea of the Messiah easily took on an all too earthly tinge, coloured by
the daily distresses of the Jewish people, so that many saw in the Messiah
predominantly the saviour from worldly tribulations, or later, quite
concretely, the liberator from the hated Roman yoke.
But there were also in contemporary Jewry circles which did not lose
sight of the essentially religious mission of the Messiah, as foretold by the
prophets, and who awaited in him the king of David’s stock who would
make Jerusalem all pure and holy, who would tolerate no injustice, no evil,
who would reign over a holy people in a holy kingdom (cf. Dan 7:9,13, 27).
Out of such a glowing hope were born those religious canticles which are
called the psalms of Solomon,1 and which, following the pattern of the
biblical psalms, express in living and convincing accents the longing for
the promised Saviour, as for instance the seventeenth psalm: “Behold,
0 Lord, and raise up unto them their king, the son of David, at the time in
the which Thou seest, O God, that he may reign over Israel Thy servant.
Gird him with strength, that he may cast down the lord of wickedness;
cleanse Jerusalem from the heathen who so pitifully oppress h e r . . . Then
shall he gather together a holy people which he shall rule with justice,
and he shall raise up the tribes of the people which the Lord his God
hath blessed. . . He shall keep the Gentiles under his yoke, that they may
serve him; he shall glorify the Lord before all the world. He shall make
Jerusalem all holy and all pure, as it was in the beginning. . . Injustice
shall be done no more among them in his time, for all shall be holy and
the Lord’s anointed shall now be their king. . . Blessed is he who shall
live in those days! O God, let his grace soon appear over Israel: let him
save us from defilement by unholy enemies. The Lord is Himself our king
for ever and ever.”
Besides belief in one God and the expectation of the Messiah, the Law
was of decisive importance in Judaism at that time. To observe the Law
was the daily task of every pious Jew, and its fulfilment was his most
serious endeavour; if he transgressed against it, even unwittingly, he must
make atonement. His fidelity to the Law had its reward, even in this life,
in those blessings of modest well-being which the Lord gives; but its true
reward would come when the Last Judgment confirmed that upon earth
he had been just and could enter into eternal life. The Law was given to
every Jew in the Holy Scriptures, into the spirit of which he was initiated
1 Eighteen of these psalms have been preserved in a Greek translation; text in A. Rahlfs,
Septuaginta, II, 471-89; English translation in Charles, The Apocrypha and Pseud-
epigrapha of the Old Testament (Oxford 1913), II, 631-52,
61
JEWISH CHRISTIANITY
in early childhood by his parents and which he was later taught in special
schools. Participation in divine worship in the Temple, or in a synagogue
such as were to be found in all the principal towns of Palestine, kept
alive his knowledge of the Scriptures which were expounded there in
sermons. As the Law did not provide ready-made answers that covered
every situation in life, its interpretation was entrusted to special scholars
(known as Scribes) who became an important institution in the religious life
of the Jews.
In their fundamental reverence for the Law all Jews were agreed; yet
the Law itself became the occasion of a division of the people into several
parties, based upon the differing degrees of importance that they attached
to its influence on the whole of life. Even before the beginning of the
Maccabaean wars there had arisen the movement of the Hassidim or
Hasideans, a community of serious-minded men who, for their religious
life, sought the ultimate will of God that lay behind the Law. This will of
God seemed to them so sublime that they wanted to build “a fence around
the Law”, so as to make every transgression, even involuntary, impossible.2
They wished to serve the Law with an unconditional obedience even unto
death, and thus they helped to create that attitude of heroic sacrifice which
distinguished the people in the time of the Maccabees. The Hasideans,
however, did not gain a universal following; in particular, the noble
families and the leading priests held aloof from them. These were the circles
which are called Sadducees in the New Testament; they subscribed to a
sort of rationalism which rejected belief in angels and spirits and ridiculed
the idea of the resurrection of the dead. For them, the five books of Moses,
the Tora proper, were the principal authority. In political questions they
inclined towards an opportunistic attitude in dealing with their overlords.
They were a minority, though an influential one.3
The most considerable religious party at the beginning of the first
Christian century, not in numbers but in the esteem in which it was held
by the people, was that of the Pharisees. Although their name signifies “the
separated ones”, they sought consciously to influence the whole people and
to spread their opinions, an attempt in which they largely succeeded. They
regarded themselves as the representatives of orthodox Judaism, and their
conception of the Law and its observance was at that time the typical
expression of Jewish religion. They took over from the Hasideans the
basic idea of the overriding importance of the Law in the life of the
individual as well as of the people as a whole, and in this respect the
Pharisees may be regarded as their successors. But they made the “fence
2 Cf. W. Foerster, Neutestamentliche Zeitgeschichte, I, 2 (Hamburg 1956), 45 ff.

8 E. M. Smallwood, “High Priests and Politics in Roman Palestine” in JTS 13 (1962),
13-34.
62
around the Law” even more impenetrable in as much as they wished to

lay down the line of conduct required by the Law for every situation in
life. This detailed interpretation of the Law found expression in the Mishna
and the Talmud, in which great importance was attached to the opinions
of earlier teachers, so that, in succeeding times, tradition played a predom
inant part in the study of the Law. The attempt to apply the Law to every
conceivable situation of daily life led to an exegesis in which every particle
was of great moment, and which could draw the most abstruse conclusions
from incidentals.
More fateful was the consequent casuistic attitude in all moral questions,
which either rendered free moral decision on the part of the individual
impossible or gave it a spurious basis. At the same time the Pharisaic Scribes
were induced in particular cases to make concessions which contradicted
their own principles, since they had after all to make decisions which could
be followed by the whole people. With such a casuistic attitude, differences
of opinion among the Scribes were unavoidable, and schools of interpretation
grew up as for example the school of Shammai or the school of Hillel. In
public life the Pharisees were at pains to serve as living models for the
fulfilment of the Law, and accepted certain honours in return, such as the
title Rabbi or the first places in the synagogues. Sometimes there is traceable,
even in their personal piety, a vain self-complacency on account of their
fidelity to the Law, which looked down with a mixure of pity and contempt
on sinners and on “the multitude that knoweth not the Law” (Jn 7:49).
In the face of such an attitude, the great fundamental idea of the God of
Israel as the Lord of History, to whose will men had to bow down in
humility and trust and whose mercy they might implore in hopeful prayers,
receded into the background.
The Pharisees did not, however, succeed in permeating the whole of
contemporary Judaism with their religious opinions. The group known as
the Zealots likewise wished to observe the Law faithfully, but their attitude
was markedly warlike, ready for martyrdom. They actively rejected all
that was pagan and refused to pay tribute to Caesar; they even called for
open resistance to heathen domination, because they considered that
obedience to the Law demanded such a holy w ar.4
The Qumran Community

Fidelity to the Law and zeal for its complete and pure fulfilment drove
another group of the Jewish people, the Essenes, out of public life into the
4 M. Hengel, Die Zeloten, Untersuchungen zur jiidischen Freiheitsbewegung in der Zeit

von Herodes I bis 70 n. Chr. (Leiden - Cologne 1961), esp. 235-92; N. Oswald, “Grund-
gedanken zu einer pharisaischen rabbinischen Theologie” in Kairos 5 (1963), 40-59.
63
JEWISH CHRISTIANITY
wilderness. The numerous literary and archaeological discoveries which have

been made since 1947 among the ruins of Hirbet Qumran, west of the Dead
Sea (a centre of this sect), have greatly enriched the picture which Pliny5
and Flavius Josephus drew of them. Their beginnings go back to the time
of the Maccabees and they flourished about the year 100 b.c .
The Essenes believed that Belial, as Satan was usually called in Qumran,
had spread three nets over Israel: unchastity, ill-gotten riches, and pollution
of the Temple.6 They meant by this the enrichment of the leaders of the
people with heathen booty and the very lax way in which some of them
interpreted the marriage laws (Lev 18:13). To the Essenes it seemed that
the service of the Temple could no longer be carried out without defilement
by priests holding such lax views; and, when their representations were
not followed by removal of the evil, they ceased to attend the Temple or
to take part in its services, renouncing all communion with "the men of
corruption”. In practice this meant a schism of the Hasideans into the
party of the Pharisees and the numerically smaller group of the Essenes,
who now felt themselves to be the “holy remnant” of the true Israel. Their
leadership was assumed by a person who, in the Qumran texts, is called
the “Teacher of Righteousness” and to whom the first organization of
their community is attributed. This teacher proclaimed a new interpretation
of the Law which consisted in the total fulfilment of the will of God, as
expressed in it. Here there were no half-measures: one could only love
God entirely or reject him utterly, walk in his ways or consciously persist
in the obstinacy of one’s own heart. He who did not join the Essenes in
their unconditional obedience to the Law as understood by them was of
necessity godless. The will to observe the Law completely led to such
concrete results as the reform by the Essenes of the Jewish calendar, so
that the feasts might be kept annually on the same day of the week.
The Teacher of Righteousness further proclaimed a new interpretation
of the Old Testament prophecies. The last age foretold by them had already
begun; the final struggle between the sons of light and the children of
darkness was at hand, and its outcome would bring, for the sons of light,
the Essenes, the commencement of an eternity of peace and salvation. Two
Messiahs were to play a part in this final combat, the high priest of the
last age, the “Anointed of Aaron”, and the prince of the last age, the
“Anointed of Israel”. The Essenes’ consciousness of being specially chosen
went with a reverent recognition of the divine omnipotence, which had
sorted men out through a kind of predestination; some were given to the
spirit of truth and light, some to the spirit of darkness and wickedness. The
salvation of the children of light was an unmerited grace.
* J.-P. Audet, “Qumran et la notice de Pline sur les esseniens” in RB 68 (1961), 346-87.
• W. Foerster, op. cit. 58 f.
64
This radical doctrine and the practice based upon it led to an organized
union of the Essenes, which, in the Qumran group, took on the character
of a religious order. Here the community of God developed into a quasi
monastic brotherhood into which a man was received as a full member
after a period of probation, a novitiate, whereupon he swore an oath to
observe the rules of the order. The property of a new member became
the property of the brotherhood. Meals and consultations in common
brought the members together. On these occasions a rigid order of precedence
prevailed, the priests taking a higher position. Special regulations governing
ritual cleanliness required numerous and repeated washings; the brother
hood in Qumran was celibate, but in the neighbourhood of the settlement
there lived married followers, and there must have been individual Essenes
all over Palestine. There was no pity for the godless man; he was regarded
with merciless hatred and the wrath of God was called down upon him.
The non-biblical writings which have been found at least in fragmentary
form at Hirbet Qumran show the strong interest of the group in the
so-called apocalyptic literature, the themes of which are the great events
which are to take place at the end of the world: the final victory over evil,
the resurrection of the dead, the Last Judgment and the glory of the ever
lasting age of salvation. Fragments of works of this kind already known,
such as the Book of Jubilees, the Book of Enoch, and the Jewish prototype
of the Testament of the Twelve Patriarchs, suggest with great probability
the Essene origin of those writings. Other fragments, such as that of a
Book of Noah, a Book of Mysteries, and a manuscript on the New
Jerusalem, confirm the supposition that the number of “apocalypses” was
much larger than what now survives. Certain features of this apocalyptic
literature of the Essenes indicate that a change took place in the community’s
views during the course of time. A more merciful attitude towards the
godless and towards sinners appears; the hate theme recedes into the back
ground and the duty of loving one’s neighbour embraces those who do not
belong to the community, even the enemy and the sinner. The age of
salvation came later to be understood as a kind of return of Paradise on
earth; no more than the Qumran texts of the earlier period do the
apocalyptic texts point to a clearly defined Messiah-figure.
The literature so far known permits no complete reconstruction of the
Essene movement. Only Josephus, writing after the destruction of Jeru
salem7 goes into detail. According to him, there was no far-reaching inner
development among them; they maintained unshaken their demand for
heroic fidelity to the Law, and Josephus also describes their charitable
assistance even to non-members, though the duty of hating the godless
remained. Whether the Essenes also took part in the fight against the Romans
7 Josephus, Antiquitates, 20, 5, 4, sect. 113-17.
65
JEWISH CHRISTIANITY
during the rebellion of a .d . 66-70, is not definitely stated, but it appears

probable, since that conflict might easily have been interpreted by them as
the final battle of the sons of light against those of darkness. Josephus is
quite silent about their Messianic ideas at that time; he mentions neither
John the Baptist nor Jesus of Nazareth in this connexion, so the most
faithful to the Law of all Jewish groups probably knew hardly anything
about the latter. N or can a close relationship with or dependence of Jesus
on the Qumran sect be proved.8
The monastic centre of Qumran was destroyed by the Romans in a .d . 68;
the remnant of the community was probably so decimated in the Bar
Cochba rebellion (a .d . 132-5) that reorganization was impossible. The
Essene movement has no importance in the subsequent history of the Jewish
religion; the leading role passed to their great opponents, the Pharisees.
The Jewish Diaspora

Outside Palestine there dwelt large numbers of Jews who were to have a
decisive influence on the expansion of Christianity in the Hellenistic world.
Since the eighth century b.c . they had spread in repeated waves, of forced
settlement or of voluntary emigration, over the Near East and the whole
Mediterranean basin, and at the beginning of the Christian era they
considerably outnumbered the inhabitants of Palestine. The great centres
of Hellenistic culture had a special attraction for them; thus, for instance
there were powerful Jewish colonies at Antioch, Rome, and especially
Alexandria, where two of the five districts of the city were allotted to them.
Their fellow-citizens saw in their strong community feeling an especially
striking characteristic. Wherever their numbers allowed, they organized
themselves into congregations, of which about one hundred and fifty are
known to have existed in the coastal areas of the Mediterranean when the
apostles first began their mission. The centre of each congregation was the
synagogue, presided over by an archisynagogus as leader of their prayer-
meetings, while a council of elders, with an archon at its head, concerned
itself with civil matters.
The bond which held the Diaspora Jews together was their religious
faith. It was this principally which prevented them from being contaminated
in greater numbers by their pagan surroundings. They had skilfully
contrived to win from the city or State authorities a great deal of special
consideration, a number of exceptions and privileges which respected their
religious opinions and manner of worship. This only emphasized all the
more their peculiarity and their unique position in public life. They
belonged mostly to the middle class; in Asia Minor and Egypt many of
8 J. Carmignac, Le docteur de justice et Jesus-Christ (Paris 1955).
66
them were engaged in agriculture as workers on the land or as tenant

farmers, but some were independent farmers or estate-owners. One trade
had a special attraction for them, that of weaving and clothmaking.
Inscriptions also mention the occupations of tax-collector, judge, even
officer in the army, although such examples are rare. In the great city of
Alexandria they early played a considerable role in banking; but here they
did not enjoy the unqualified approval of their pagan neighbours.
Their new milieu had in many respects exercised its influence on the
Jews of the Diaspora without leading to actual infringement of the Law.
Like all immigrants they gave up their mother-tongue after a while and
adopted the international Greek language, the koine, a fact which led to the
use of this language in the worship of the synagogue. Here Egyptian Jewry
had shown the way when it translated over a long period the individual
books of the Old Testament into Greek and thus created the Septuagint,
which was used throughout the Diaspora in the first century a .d . as the
recognized translation of the Bible. The reading of the Scriptures in Greek
was followed by prayers in Greek, of which some have been adopted by the
Christian Church. It was even more necessary that the explanatory sermon
should be in the new tongue. The use of Greek in the religious sphere
inevitably exposed the Jews to the cultural influences of Hellenism in a
wider sense, and in a narrower sense to the effect of Hellenistic religious
currents.
Such influence was strongest in Alexandria, intellectually the most active
centre of the Diaspora. This city was the home of the Jew Philo (f c. 40
a .d .), whose extensive writings seem like the final echo of those inner
conflicts which the intellectual world of Hellenism might have caused in
the mind of an educated and intellectually alert Diaspora Jew. In his work,
preserved for posterity by Christianity, we feel the effects of the different
philosophical tendencies of his time. From the Stoics the Jews took over
the allegorical method of scriptural interpretation which apparently was
taught at a special school of exegetics for Jews in Alexandria. Without
giving up the literal sense of the biblical description of events in the great
Jewish past, the new teachers found a deeper secret meaning beneath it,
which saw in Adam for instance the symbol of human reason, in Eve that
of sensuality, and in the tree of life that of virtue. Paradise itself was an
allegory of the wisdom of God, and the four rivers that flowed from
it were the cardinal virtues. More even than the Stoics, the “most holy
Plato” influenced the intellectual world of Philo, who took from him not
only his philosophical terminology but also his high esteem for the intellect
and his longing for a spiritualized life, as well as his idea of the imperfection
of the material world. Philo’s doctrine of creation has also a Platonic
colouring, especially his notion of the “middle powers” which exist between
67
JEWISH CHRISTIANITY
a perfect God and the imperfect world; they are called “thoughts of God”,
and the highest of them is the Logos, Reason itself, which was to play such
an important part in the theology of the first Christian centuries. Philo also
explained the ritual laws of the Jews in an allegorical sense and developed
from them, using the philosophical terminology of Hellenism, ethical
principles, culminating in the demand for ascetic control of the life of
instinct; only thus could the soul free itself from the prison of the body
and become capable of that mystical rapture which unites it with God in
“sober intoxication” and loving surrender.
Despite this enthusiasm for the Hellenistic philosophy of his time, Philo
remained a convinced Jew by religion. What he took over from Hellenistic
philosophy was after all, he believed, only an earlier gift from the Jews to
the pagans, whose teacher, unknown to them, had been Moses. His God
remains the eternal God of the Old Testament, whose name men cannot
utter, to whose mercy and goodness they owe all, and on whose grace they
depend. H e is to be honoured by observance of the Sabbath and by the
other precepts of the Law, upon which Israel’s former greatness was based.
Philo remained inwardly and outwardly united with the Jewish people; he
shared their belief in a Messiah who would bring them victory over all the
nations of the earth and give them a new Paradise.
If the faith of a Jew so receptive to Greek ideas as Philo, was not endan
gered in its innermost citadel, the loyalty of the average Diaspora Jew to
the faith of his Fathers was even more secure. An essential part of it was the
spiritual and practical attachment to the Palestinian homeland which he
unwaveringly maintained. Jerusalem and its Temple were the focus of this
attachment. In the consciousness of every adult Diaspora Jew the Temple
was the supreme symbol of his religious origin, and with great conscientious
ness he made his annual financial sacrifice, the Temple tax; it was his
earnest desire to pray there one day with his Palestinian co-religionists at
the time of the Pasch. A further support for his faith was the aforementioned
close association of all the Diaspora Jews, which led to an exclusiveness
often criticized by their pagan neighbours, and which played its part in
causing those recurrent waves of anti-Semitism that swept over the Roman
Empire.
But all the mockery and scorn, all the slights and persecutions which
from time to time were the lot of the Diaspora Jews did not prevent them
from carrying out enterprising and methodical propaganda for their
convictions and their religion which met with considerable success. This
propaganda was served by a not inconsiderable body of writings which,
adapting itself to the literary tastes of the Hellenistic reader, sought to
inform the latter that the orginal source of all culture, including religious
culture, was to be found in Moses and his people. To this literature
68
belonged, for example, the so-called Letter to Aristeas,9 which by its

skilfully told legend of the origin of the Septuagint directed the reader’s
interest to the sacred scriptures of the Jews and included an attractive
description of Jerusalem, its temple and worship, and of the Jewish
priesthood. Books Three to Five of the Oracula Sibyllina are also an
advertisement for the Jewish religion. These praise monotheism and draw
from the fulfilment of ancient prophecies in the history of the Jewish
people an allegorical interpretation of history as a whole; with the
prophecy of an approaching Last Judgment they endeavour to persuade
the pagans to embrace the Jewish religion. Josephus’s book Contra Apionem
was openly apologetic in tone, painting an impressive picture of the history
of the Jewish people with all its vicissitudes and describing in enthusiastic
terms its great leaders, prophets and martyrs, religious laws and customs,
with a view to winning converts to the Jewish faith. Its representation of
Jewish theocracy, based upon unconditional monotheism, and its references
to the undeniable effects of Jewish piety and ethics on the life of the people
could not fail to make an impression on many a Hellenistic reader in search
of religious truth.
The success of this propaganda, supplemented no doubt by the spoken
word, is shown by the great number of pagans who entered into closer
relations with the Jewish religion. Those who formally went over to the
Jewish faith and by circumcision, ritual bath, and offering of sacrifice,
became fully-fledged Jews, were known as proselytes and undertook all the
obligations of the Jewish Law. Considerably larger was the number of the
“God-fearing”, who would not indeed accept circumcision — painful to
pagan sensibilities — but could not resist the attraction of monotheistic
belief and the services of the synagogue. They joined in the celebration of
the Sabbath and many other religious exercises; their children usually took
the final step of formal conversion. The sources give no information as to
the precise numbers of either group, but they were no doubt represented
in most Jewish congregations of the Diaspora.
The Jewish Diaspora has a significance for the early Christian Missions
which cannot be overlooked. It performed an important preliminary work
in this connexion, firstly by preparing the Septuagint, which at once became
the Bible of the early Christians, secondly by preaching monotheism and the
Commandments of Moses, which were also the foundation of Christian
morality. Since the synagogues were often the starting-place of Christian
missionaries, the latter found there, above all among the God-fearing and
the proselytes, hearts ready to receive their message. In the conflict which
9 Edition of the Greek text with French translation by A. Pelletier, Sources chretiennes
84 (Paris 1962); English translation in Charles, op. cit. II, 83 ff. See also A. Pelletier,
Flavius Josephe, Adaptateur de la lettre d’Aristee (1962).
69
JEWISH CHRISTIANITY
soon ensued between Christian preachers and Diaspora Jews, the struggle
to win the souls of these two groups was — along with the doctrinal
differences — an essential factor. That the Christian met with greater
success is shown not least by the reaction of the born Diaspora Jews, who
now gave up the Septuagint and made other translations to replace it,
because they saw their former Bible being employed so successfully by
the Christians. They rejected too the allegorical method of writers like
Philo, as the Christians had taken it over and used it in particular to
dispute the claim of the Mosaic Law to continued validity. A rigid emphasis
was placed on the Tom, the strict rabbinical interpretation of which now
prevailed even among the Jews of the Diaspora. On the other hand, many
features of the developing Christian liturgy, much in the worship and
preaching of the primitive Christians, in early Christian literature, and
in the text of prayers, is an inheritance from the world of the Diaspora,
an inheritance which was sometimes taken over directly by the Christians
to serve the purposes of anti-Jewish propaganda.
C hapter 2
Jesus of Nazareth and the Church

T he history of the Church has its roots in Jesus of Nazareth, who was born
into the intellectual and religious world of Palestinian Jewry which has
just been described. His life and work, by which the Church was founded,
are therefore a necessary preliminary to a history of the latter.
The sources which tell us of that life and its significance for the Church
are of a quite exceptional nature. Apart from a few references in pagan
and Jewish works, which are valuable because they place beyond discussion
any attempt to deny the historical existence of Jesus, the main sources
are the writings of the New Testament, especially the first three gospels,
the Acts of the Apostles and some of the letters of St Paul. None of
these was intended to be an historical biography of Jesus of Nazareth,
to tell the story of his life from beginning to end with all the details we
would like to know. The three synoptic gospels are the outcome of the
apostolic preaching about Jesus and accordingly give the image of him
which remained vivid in the minds and hearts of his first disciples when
they proclaimed him after his ascension as the crucified and risen Messiah.
That image is shaped by the requirements of the apostles’ preaching and
the faith which supported it. We are not on that account forced to adopt
an attitude of radical scepticism when faced with the question whether
such sources can ever lead us to a true picture of the “historical” Jesus.
70
JESUS OF NAZARETH AND THE CHURCH
True, an actual “Life of Jesus” cannot be obtained from them. But these
New Testament writings are always going back to that Life, giving
prominence to single facts and events, to actions and worlds of Jesus in his
earthly life which have a special significance for the proclamation of the
apostolic message, bearing witness to them at the same time as important
historical facts of his life. The preaching of the apostles was expressly
intended to prove that the earthly Jesus of Nazareth was the same Christ
that they proclaimed, from whom came salvation for all men. Thus a
series of individual facts and characteristics can, with all the scrupulous
care that historical criticism demands, be built up from these sources and
presented as a kind of outline of the life of Jesus.
Four or five years before the beginning of our era, Jesus of Nazareth
was born in Bethlehem of the Virgin Mary. Forty days after circumcision
the child was presented to the Lord in the Temple as a first-born son, in
accordance with Jewish Law, on which occasion two pious Israelites,
Simeon and Anna, spoke prophetically of his Messianic mission. Dangers
which threatened the infant from King Herod forced his mother and his
foster-father Joseph to sojourn for a long period in Egypt, until, after
Herod’s death, the family was able to settle at Nazareth in Galilee. The boy
grew up in this quiet village, perhaps without ever attending a rabbinical
school. Only once did something of his future greatness shine forth, when
at twelve years of age he spoke with the Scribes in the Temple about
religious questions, showing knowledge superior to theirs and excusing
himself to his parents with the words: “ I must be about my Father’s
business” (Lk 2:49).
About thirty years after his birth Jesus left his parental home and began
his work among the people of his homeland. First he took a remarkable
step, seeking out the great preacher of penance, John the Baptist10 by the
Jordan and accepting baptism from him, whereby God “anointed him
with the Holy Spirit”, who descended upon him in the form of a dove
while the voice of the Father bore witness from Heaven that this was his
“beloved Son” (Mt 3:13 f.). Conscious of his Messianic mission and his
divine sonship, which he was able to confirm by numerous miracles, Jesus
now proclaimed in word and deed that the kingdom of God was come,
and that all men, not only Israelites, were called to the kingdom, provided
they served God with true piety. The supreme law of the religion he
preached was the unconditional love of God and a love of one’s neighbour
that embraced men of all nations. In clearly recognizable opposition to
10 E. Lohmeyer, Das Urchristentum, I: Johannes der Tdtifer (Gottingen 1932); C. H.

Kraeling, John the Baptist (New York 1951); H. W. Brownlee, “John the Baptist in the
New Light of the Ancient Scrolls” in Interpretation 9 (1955), 71-90; J. Steinmann,
St John the Baptist and the Desert Tradition (New York 1963).
71
JEWISH CHRISTIANITY
Pharisaical practice11 with its outwardly correct observance of the Law,

he declared purity of mind and intention to be the basis of moral behaviour,
thus giving to the individual conscience the decisive role in the sphere of
religion. Jesus furthermore re-established the true priority of obligations,
derived from that life of inward union with the Father which he preached
as the ideal: more important than scrupulous observance of the Sabbath
is a helpful action performed for our neighbour — of more value than
the prescribed prayers recited in the Temple is silent converse with the
Father in the solitude of one’s own room. Shocking for many was his
message that publicans and sinners, the poor and infirm, whom God seemed
so obviously to have punished, had the first right to expect a welcome in
the house of the Father. The self-righteousness of the Pharisees was deeply
shaken by the news that there is more joy in Heaven over one sinner who
does penance than over ninety-nine just men; they did not understand
that in the coming kingdom of God all human actions count for nothing,
that only he is just to whom the Father graciously grants it. The poor were
called blessed, because they were free from earthly cares about possessions
and riches, which all too easily take up in men’s hearts the place that
belongs to God alone.
But consoling though his message was for those who had hitherto been
despised and lowly among the people, great though the effects of his
miraculous powers were upon those marked by lameness, blindness, leprosy,
and spiritual diseases, no less strict were the conditions which Jesus imposed
upon those who would enter the kingdom of God. The whole man wTas
called upon to follow him without regard for previous friendships, family
ties, or possessions; he who set his hand to the plough and looked back
was unworthy of the kingdom (Lk 9:62). Such demands dispel any idea
of a peaceful family idyll; his words cut like a sword through all existing
social and familiar bonds. But the new and unique thing in his teaching
was this above all: no man could come to the Father except through Jesus.
He demanded a discipleship that was quite impossible without painful
self-denial; the man who would truly be his disciple must be able to lay
aside his own life (Lk 14:26).
All those, however, who made up their minds to follow him and were
thus called to the kingdom formed a new community. Jesus’ words and
deeds tend unmistakably towards the creation and development of such
a community. He proclaimed no kind of only individual piety or religion,
but a message which binds together those who hear it and are filled by it
as brothers in a religious family that prays together to the Father for
the forgiveness of its sins. Jesus himself on one occasion called this
community his Church, and he claimed that he was establishing it by his
11 W. Beilner, Christus und die Pharisiier (Vienna 1959).
72
JESUS OF NAZARETH AND THE CHURCH
work (Mt 16:18). He carefully prepared the ground for the foundation of
this religious society. If, at times, because of his miracles, great multitudes
greeted him with loud acclamations, it was but a minority of the people
who accepted to become his disciples. From this group he selected twelve
men,12 who occupied a special position among his followers; they were
the object of his special attention: with them he discussed the special tasks
for which he intended them in the community that was to be. They were
to take up and continue the mission which the Father in Heaven had
entrusted to him; “As the Father has sent me, even so I send you” (Jn 20:21).
The Gospels emphasize again and again with unmistakable clarity the
special position of the Twelve, who received the name of apostles, envoys.13
The content of their mission was the proclamation of the kingdom of God;
to fulfill it, the apostles were expressly appointed as teachers, whose word
the nations must believe and trust like that of Jesus himself (Lk 10:16;
Mt 28:20), to whose judgment they must submit as if it were a verdict of
the Lord (Mt 18:18). Finally, to the Twelve, who were to carry out his
own office of High Priest in the new community, Jesus gave priestly powers
(Jn 17:19; Mt 20:28). They were to nourish and sanctify its members through
a mysterious, sacramental life of grace. From the group Jesus chose Peter
for a special task: he was appointed to be the rock foundation on which
his Church should stand. With a singular form of words he was given
the mission to feed the sheep and the lambs and to strengthen his brothers.
(Mt 16:18; Jn21:15).
Thus the foundation prepared by Jesus before his resurrection received
an organic framework, perceptible even from without, which would now
grow in space and time, according to laws of growth implanted in it by
its founder. Its purely supernatural basis lies indeed elsewhere: it is
ultimately founded on the death of Jesus, through which alone salvation can
be newly given to men, from which alone the new structure of the salvation
community of the redeemed receives its mysterious life. With his death,
which completed the work of atonement and redemption, and his
resurrection, which gloriously confirmed that work, the founding of the
13 B. Rigaux, “Die ‘Zwolf’ in Geschichte und Kerygma” in H. Ristow and K. Matthiae,

Der historische Jesus und der kerygmatische Christus (Berlin 1960), 468-86; G. Klein,
Die zwolf Apostel, Ursprung und Gehalt einer Idee (Gottingen 1961).
13 K.H. Rengstorf in ThW IV, 406-46; Eng. tr.: K.H. Rengstorf, Apostleship, Bible Key
Words 6 (London 1962); H. v. Campenhausen, “Der urchristliche Apostelbegriff ’ in StTh
1 (1947), 96- 130; E. M. Kredel, “Der Apostelbegriff in der neueren Exegese” in ZKTh
78 (1956), 169-93, 257-305; K. H. Schelkle, Jiingerscbaft und Apostelamt (Freiburg i. Br.
1957); J. Dupont, “Le nom d’apotre a-t-il £t£ donn£ aux Douze par J£sus?” in OrSyr 1
(1956), 267-90, 466-80; W. Schmithals, Das kirchliche Apostelamt (Gottingen 1961);
P. Blaser, “Zum Problem des urchristlichen Apostolats: Unio-Christianorum” in Fest
schrift L. Jaeger (Paderborn 1962), 92-107.
73
JEWISH CHRISTIANITY
Church was complete, and her historical existence began with the descent of
the Spirit.
Jesus had to go to his death because the majority of his people closed
their ears to his message. The religious leaders of Jewry decisively rejected
his Messianic claims and persecuted him as a sedition-monger with ever-
increasing hatred, which finally led them to plan his violent death. The
Roman procurator allowed himself, albeit unwillingly, to be won over
and he delivered Jesus into their hands to be crucified. The crucifixion
took place on the fourteenth or fifteenth day of Nisan in a year between
30 and 33 of the Christian era.
So the labours of Jesus among his own people come to a sudden end,
which in the eyes of those who did not believe in his mission meant too
the end of the kingdom which he announced. But after three days he rose
again from the dead as he had foretold, and during a period of forty
days appeared to his disciples on many occasions, until he was taken up
into heaven. Belief in his second coming, which was promised to the
disciples by two angels at the time of his ascension, was one of the main
supports of the young Church’s now growing structure.
C hapter 3
The Primitive Church at Jerusalem
The External Events and Early Environment

T he most important source for the fortunes of the primitive Church
immediately after the ascension of our Lord is the account given in the
first seven chapters of the Acts of the Apostles. This does not indeed give
a complete picture of events, because the author chose for his subject only
what served his purpose, which was to show that the tidings of the Kingdom,
though first addressed to the Jews, were then, in accordance with God’s
will, to be delivered to the Gentiles, and that the Jewish Christian Paul,
with the approval of the apostles and commissioned by them, had become
the legitimate missionary to the Gentiles. Therefore only about the first
fifteen years of the origin and growth of the community are described; of
its later history mention is made only in occasional references to Jerusalem.
It was the fact, at first hardly comprehensible, of the resurrection of the
Crucified One that brought together the scattered disciples and united
them in a community sharing the same belief and profession of faith. When
the story of the Acts begins, a group of 120 believers has re-assembled.
Firm in their belief that their Lord who has ascended into heaven will
74
THE PRIMITIVE CHURCH AT JERUSALEM
return, they are determined to carry out the instructions he gave them
during the forty days between his resurrection and his ascension. First of
all under Peter’s leadership they hold an election to complete the apostolic
college, the number twelve being considered as sacrosanct; the candidate
must, like the others, be a reliable witness to the life and work of the Lord.
The result of the election is entrusted in prayer to God, who makes his will
known when the lot falls upon M atthias.14
The events of the first Pentecost,15 when the promised Holy Spirit, to the
accompaniment of extraordinary phenomena — a mighty wind and tongues
of fire — descended upon the assembled believers, gave them a great
access of strength and courage to bear witness in public. The enthusiasm
of that day caused Peter to preach a sermon before the people in which
he proclaimed the crucified and risen Jesus as the true Messiah. The external
growth of the community reflected its inward strengthening: as a result
of Peter’s preaching about three thousand Jews professed their faith in
Jesus. The healing of a man born lame by Peter and John, and
another sermon by the former, brought further successes. Soon the number
of members of the community had risen to five thousand (Acts 3-4:4).
Such success disturbed the Jewish authorities, who sent for the apostles -
to examine them. Peter was their spokesman, and here too he boldly
proclaimed the message of the Crucified. A threatening warning to the
apostles to keep silent for the future was rejected in the name of Jesus
(Acts 4:5-22). When fresh miracles and repeated preaching further
increased the number of the faithful, all the apostles were again arrested,
whereupon they dared to say before the Sanhedrin that God must be obeyed
rather than men (Acts 5:29). A first scourging with rods, to which the
leaders of the Church at Jerusalem were sentenced, and renewed prohibition
to speak in the name of Jesus, were preliminaries to the first persecution.
As the tasks to be carried out in the community increased with the number
of members, some organization became necessary; the apostles must remain
free to preach, and therefore seven men were appointed to serve the
tables, to care for the poor and to help the apostles in their pastoral
activities (Acts 6: 1-6). These were ordained for their work with prayer
and the laying on of hands. The Greek names of these men indicate that
the number of Hellenistic Jews from the Diaspora was not inconsiderable
in the community. It is clear that tension arose between them and the
Palestinian Jewish Christians. Among the Hellenistic Christians Stephen16
14 K. H. Rengstorf, “Die Zuwahl des Matthias” in StTh 15 (1961), 35-67.

15 N. Adler, Das erste christlicbe Pfmgstfest (Munster 1938); E. Lohse in ThW VI, 44-53;
G. Kretschmar, “Himmelfahrt und Pfingsten” in ZKG 66 (1954), 209-53.
16 Besides the commentaries on the Acts of the Apostles, cf. F. Buchsel in ZNW 30 (1931),
202 f., 33 (1934), 84-87; M^Simon, St. Stephen and the Hellenists in the Primitive Church
(London 1958); J. Bihler, “Der Stephanusbericht” in BZ 3 (1959), 252-70.
75
JEWISH CHRISTIANITY
was especially distinguished for his courage and skill in debate; but he
suffered a martyr’s death by stoning when he was bold enough to say to
the Jews that through Christ’s work the Old Testament had been superseded.
The death of Stephen was the signal for a persecution, which fell most
heavily upon the Hellenistic members of the Jerusalem community. While
the apostles themselves remained in Jerusalem, many Christians evaded
persecution by flight. However, they now took to preaching the Gospel in
the countryside, especially in Judaea and Samaria.17 The Samaritan
mission of the Hellenist Philip was particularly successful.
This spread of the faith outside the capital was the occasion for a journey
of inspection by the apostles Peter and John to the newly won Christians
in Samaria, upon whom they laid their hands that they might receive the
Holy Spirit. The two apostles were also active as missionaries on this
journey and preached in many places in Samaria. Later Peter paid another
visit to the brethren outside Jerusalem — “the saints” as the Acts call
them — and the presence of Jewish Christians in cities like Joppa and
Lydda shows how strong the movement had become in the more remote
parts of Palestine.
The peace that had followed the persecution was again threatened by
Herod Agrippa, who caused the arrest of the leading apostles, Peter and
James the Elder, and the execution of the latter (a .d . 42 or 43), in order
to please the Jews of the capital (Acts 12:2).18 Perhaps Peter would have
shared the same fate if he had not then finally left Jerusalem and betaken
himself to “another place” (Acts 12:17). The leadership of the congregation
then passed to James the Younger.
The sudden death of Herod in 44 again brought more peaceful times for
the Church and made possible a more widespread preaching of the Word.
For about twenty years James was able to work in Jerusalem, surrounded
by his congregation and highly respected by the other apostles —
Paul calls him, together with Peter and John one of the “pillars” of the
primitive Church (Gal 2:9). His strictly ascetic life and his loyalty to
Jewish traditions earned him the name of “the Just”. He was, however,
also concerned for the Jewish Christian congregations outside the capital,
to whom he wrote a letter which has been accepted into the canon of the
New Testament.19 His authority carried great weight at the so-called
Council of the Apostles,20 where he played the part of mediator (Acts
17 O. Cullman, Samaria and the Origins of the Christian Mission in the Early Church
(London 1956), 185-92.
18 J. Blinzler, “Rechtsgeschichtliches zur Hinrichtung des Zebedaiden Jakobus” (Acts 12:2)
in N ovT 5 (1962), 191-206.
19 H. v. Campenhausen, “Die Nachfolge des Jakobus” in ZKG 63 (1950), 133-44;
P. Gachter, “Jakobus von Jerusalem” in ZKTh 76 (1954), 129-69.
20 A. Lemmonyer, DBS II, 113-20; S. Giet in Mel. Lebreton, I (Paris 1951), 201-20;
76
15:13-21). He too met a martyr’s death in 62, when the high priest
Ananus was able to vent his hatred upon him, the post of Roman procurator
being vacant owing to the death of Festus. They cast the old man from
the pinnacle of the Temple, and, while he still lived, they stoned him and
beat him to death. Following the example of his Lord he prayed for his
enemies as he lay dying.
A few years later the independence of the Jerusalem congregation came
to an end, when the rebellion against the Romans turned into a catastrophe
for the whole nation. The Jewish Christians obviously did not wish to take
part in this struggle and emigrated in 66-67 to the land east of the Jordan,
where some of them settled in the city of Pella. The fortunes of the young
Church took a new turn. Under Peter’s leadership in Palestine there had
already been individual conversions from paganism. Now Philip received
the chamberlain of Queen Candace of Ethiopia into the Church by
baptism, and Peter himself, by the reception of the pagan captain Cornelius,
made it clear that the message of the Gospel was not for the Jews alone.
Even while the original community was still in Jerusalem, a considerable
number of former pagans had formed a Christian congregation in the Syrian
capital of Antioch,21 the care of which was entrusted to the Cypriot levite
Barnabas. Here the designation Xpumxvot was first applied to the followers
of the new faith, although it is an open question as to whether this term
was introduced by the local pagan authorities, was a popular slang word,
or, which seems more likely, was an expression used by the Christians to
distinguish themselves from official Judaism and from Jewish sects (see
Acts 1:6-8 and Peter 4:16).22
The future of the young Church after the destruction of Jerusalem
lay with the pagan nations of the eastern Mediterranean area, whose
evangelization had already been successfully begun by the Jewish Christian
Paul.
Organization, Belief, and Piety
“Sect of the Nazarenes”, tj t w v Na^copafcov atpeau;, their Jewish

opponents called the disciples of Jesus (Acts 24:5), who had formed
themselves into a special community; “congregation, assembly”, exxXyjcrta,
is the name that the Jewish Christians had for this community of theirs
P. Gachter in ZKTh 76 (1954), 139-46; V. Kerich: St Vladimir’s Quarterly 6 (1962),

108-17; P. Gachter in ZKTh 85 (1963), 339-54; T. Fahy in IThQ 30 (1963), 232-61.
21 J. Kollwitz in RAC I, 461-9; H. Dieckmann, Antiochien ein Mittelpunkt christlicher
Missionstc.tigkeit (Aachen 1920).
22 E. Peterson, “Christianus” in MiscMercati, I (Rome 1946), 355-72; H. B. Mattingly
“The Origin of the Name Christiani” in JThS NS 9 (1958), 26-37; B. Lifschitz, “L’origine
du nora dcs chretiens” in VigChr 16 (1962), 65-70.
77
JEWISH CHRISTIANITY
(Acts 5:11; 8:1 etc.)23 They were therefore not merely a group of Jews,
who shared the conviction that Jesus was the true Messiah, but who
otherwise led their own individual religious lives; rather did that conviction
bring them together and cause them to organize themselves as a religious
community.
This community was, from the beginning (as a glance at the Acts of the
Apostles clearly shows), an hierarchically ordered society, in which not all
were of equal rank. There were in it persons and groups of persons to
whom special tasks and functions in the life of the community were
assigned by higher authority. The first of such groups was the college of
the apostles, disinguished in a unique way from all other members of the
community; by them were carried out the special tasks which Jesus had
given to the chosen Twelve before his ascension and for which he had
trained them. The community felt the number twelve to be sacred, so that
after the departure of Judas the complement had to be made up by an
election at which Matthias was chosen. This election had, however, a purely
religious character; it was begun with prayer, and God himself made
the decision by means of lots, so that it became unequivocally clear
that a man could be called to the office of an apostle only by the supreme
authority of God. The principal task of an apostle was to bear witness to
the life, death, and resurrection of Christ. Linked with this was the duty
of leading the community in the solemnities of the cult, when it met
together united in faith: to administer the baptism by which a man became
a member of the community, to preside at the religious meal which
symbolically expressed the sense of belonging together, to undertake the
laying on of hands by which members were consecrated for special tasks —
in a word, to be mediators between Christ and his Church through the
exercise of priestly functions. Christ himself gave the apostles power to
work signs and wonders in his name (Acts 2:42; 5:12). Bound up with that
power was the right to rule with authority in the community, to ensure
discipline and order and to found new congregations of believers (Acts
8:14 f.; 15:2). Nevertheless, the apostle was not so much lord as rather
servant and shepherd in the Church, which was firmly based upon the
apostolic office (Mt 16:18; 24: 45; Acts 20:28).24
Among those holding the office of apostle, Peter displayed an activity
which shows that he, in this turn, occupied a leading place among the
Twelve, which could have been given him only by a higher authority. The
23 K. L. Schmidt in ThW III, 502-39; M. Goguel, The Primitive Church (London-New

York 1964); J. M. Nielen, “Zur Grundlegung einer neutestamentlichen Ekklesiologie” in
Festschrift F. Tillmann (Diisseldorf 1950), 370-97; H. Schlier, Die Zeit der Kirche (Frei
burg i. Br., 3rd ed. 1962).
24 See above, note 13 and E. M. Farrer, “The Ministry in the New Testament” in K. B.
Kirk, The Apostolic Ministry (London, 2nd ed. 1957), 119-83.
78
account of the fortunes of the primitive Church clearly shows this special
position: Peter conducts the election to the college of apostles, he composes
the prayer recited on that occasion and he is the spokesman of the disciples
at the first Pentecost (Acts 2:15 ff.). He preaches after the healing of the
man born lame (Acts 3:1). He is again the spokesman of the apostles before
the Scribes and Elders (Acts 4:8). as well as before the Sanhedrin (Acts
5:20). He appears with judicial authority in the episodes of Ananias and
Sapphira (Acts 5:3) and with Simon Magus (Acts 8:19). His visits to the
“saints” outside Jerusalem have the character of a visitation (Acts 9:32).
His decision to admit the pagan Cornelius to baptism was of great
significance for the future, because it authoritatively proclaimed that
the Gospel was not addressed exclusively to “those of the circumcision” but
also to the Gentiles and thus had a universal character. This step did indeed
lead to a dispute with some of the Jewish Christians, but by that very fact
it shows Peter to have been the responsible leader of the primitive Church.
The picture which the author of the Acts draws of Peter's position is
significantly confirmed by Paul. The latter, after his flight from Damascus,
went to Jerusalem “to visit Cephas” (Gal 1:18); obviously Paul’s recognition
by the community depended on him. Even though James, as local leader
of the Jerusalem congregation, presided at the Council of the Apostles,
Paul clearly gives us to understand that Peter’s attitude was the deciding
factor in the dispute as to whether the Gentile Christians were subject to the
Mosaic Law or not. It cannot be objected that Peter on another occasion
appears not to act with authority towards James; this was rather due to
his hesitant character than to his official position. The whole of his work
in the primitive Church up to the time when he finally left Jerusalem to
engage actively in the mission to the Gentiles can be rightly understood only
if one regards it as the fulfilment of the task given to him by his Master,
of which not only Matthew but also Luke and John tell us when they write
that Peter was called by the Lord to strengthen the brethren and to feed
Christ’s flock.25
There was another office in the primitive Church of which we learn from
Acts 6:1-7. It was that of the above-mentioned seven men who were to
assist the apostles in their labours and to take over the service of the tables
among the poor of the community. The appointment of these seven did
not take the form of an election, but it was done with prayer and laying
on of hands by the apostles. In the Acts the work of the seven is repeatedly
mentioned, and the accounts make it clear that it went far beyond purely
charitable activities. One of them, Stephen, played a leading role in the
theological dispute with the Jews about the mission of Christ and the
25 E. Stauffer, “Petrus und Jakobus in Jerusalem” in Festschrift O. Karrer (Frankfurt a. M.,

2nd ed. 1960), 361-72.
79
JEWISH CHRISTIANITY
validity of the old Law (Acts 6:8ff.). and Philip was an active missionary;
he preached among the Samaritans and in many other places (Acts 21:8). No
special name is given to this group in the Acts of the Apostles, but their
work is described by the verb “to serve” Staxovctv (Acts 6:2). Whether
they can be regarded as precursors of the deacons in the Pauline congrega
tions is difficult to decide, for the work of the latter is not easily discernible.
The duties of the seven were determined by the needs of the Church.20
The sphere of activity of a third group, whom the Acts call “Elders”,
7rp£(y{3uT£poi, is not so clearly defined as that of the seven (Acts 11:30). The
name was not newly coined by the Christians, for there had long been
Elders, heads of Jewish patrician families, in the Sanhedrin at Jerusalem,
and Elders of the synagogues in the Jewish communities of Palestine. In the
primitive Church of Jerusalem these “Elders” are always to be found in
the company of the apostles or of James as leader of the congregation;
they take part in the decisions of the apostolic Council (Acts 15:2ff.). They
were therefore assistants to the apostles or to the pastor of Jerusalem in the
administration of the community.2627
Only once in connexion with the Jerusalem community are “prophets”
mentioned (Acts 15:32); these were Judas Barsabas and Silas, who were
chosen and sent to Antioch that they might inform the Christians there of
the decisions of the Council. Their task was not therefore one that belonged
to a permanent office; they were selected because of their special gifts to
carry out such a commission and to encourage and strengthen the brethren
in Antioch.
The existence of such office-holders, the apostles, the Elders and the
seven, shows clearly that there was already in the primitive Church a
division among the members into groups, consecrated by a religious
ceremony for special tasks, apart from the main body of the faithful. Even
at that time, therefore, there existed clergy and laity, the division between
whom, however, was not felt to be a separating gulf, because the Jews in
the community were already familiar with an official priesthood which was
highly respected, especially by the pious Jews who eagerly awaited the
Messiah.
The new and revolutionary event that brought about the formation of
the followers of Jesus into a community, the resurrection of the Lord, had
been experienced as a fact by all those who had witnessed one of the
appearances of the risen Christ. But it was also one of the fundamental
26 T. Klauser in RAC III, 888-909; P. Gachter, Petrus und seine Zeit (Innsbruck 1958),
105-54; H. Zimmermann, “Die Wahl der Sieben” in Festschrift fiir Kard. ]. Frings
(Cologne 1960), 364-78.
27 W. Michaelis, Das Altestenamt der christlichen Gemeinde im Lichte der Hi. Schrift
(Berne 1958), and P. Gachter in ZKTh 76 (1954), 226-31; H. v. Campenhausen, Kirch-
liches Amt und geistliche Vollmacht in den ersten drei ] ahrhunderten (Tubingen 1953).
80
elements of the religious faith by which the primitive Church lived, and it
was the pivot upon which the apostolic message hinged.28 It had therefore
to be accepted by all who wished to follow the Gospel. Both as an historical
event and as part of the faith the fact of the resurrection was confirmed
by the descent of the Spirit at the first Pentecost (Acts 2:1 ff.), which gave
its final clarity and direction to the apostolic message. From then on the
apostles, in their preaching, emphasized the new element which separated
them in their belief from their Jewish brethren. This was primarily the
conviction that the Risen One whom they proclaimed was none other than
the earthly Jesus of Nazareth, and from this identification all that Jesus
taught by word and deed before his death derived its validity and its claim
to be preached by them. Therefore they bore witness that it was Almighty
God who had raised Jesus from the dead, as he had wrought miracles
through him during his life on earth.
Equally radical and new when compared with the beliefs till then held
by the Jews was the conviction of the Christians that Jesus was the true
and promised Messiah. That their Master was the Messiah could not be
proved more clearly and compellingly to the apostles than by his
resurrection. The belief that in Jesus they possessed the Messiah expressed
itself in the various titles which the preaching of the apostles and the
piety of the faithful bestowed on him. More and more he came to be called
“the Christ”, a designation that was used as a kind of surname to Jesus.
The apostles preached “the Gospel of Jesus Christ” (Acts 5:42); it was
“Jesus Christ” who healed through the apostles (Acts 9:34). Because Jesus
was the Messiah he was called the Kyrios, 29 which he had been called by
God himself (Acts 2:36); he belonged therefore at the right hand of God,
and the title of Kyrios could be given to him as properly as to God (Acts
1:21; 7:59; 9:1, 10ff., 42; 11:17). So the Church addressed the Kyrios in
prayer with all confidence; from its midst came the cry “Marana-tha”
Come, O Lord!” (1 Cor 16:22), a prayer preserved for us by Paul. To
Stephen it was so natural to pray to “the Lord Jesus” that even in the
hour of death the words came spontaneously to his lips (Acts 7:59). Other
titles likewise place the risen Jesus close to God; in Acts 10:42 he is the
28 J. Gewiess, Die urapostolische Heilsverkiindung nach der Apostelgeschichte (Breslau

1939); M. Meinertz, Theologie des Neucn Testaments I (Munster 1950), 212-47; J. Schmitt,
Jesus resuscite dans la predication apostolique (Paris 1949), 175-248; F. X. Durwell,
La resurrection de Jesus (Paris 1954); J. Sint, “Die Auferstehung Jesu in der Verkundigung
der Urgemeinde” in ZKTh 84 (1962), 129-51; H. Grass, Ostergeschehen und Osterberichte
(Gottingen, 2nd ed. 1962).
20 W. Foerster, ThW III, 1038-98; J. Gewiess, op. cit. 57-70; I. Hermann, Kyrios und
Pneuma (Munich 1960); S. Schulz, Maranatha und Kyrios Jesus” in ZNW 53 (1962), 125
to 144; F. Hahn, Christologische Hoheitstitel im Neuen Testament (Gottingen 1963); W.
Kramer, Christos, Kyrios, Gottessohn (Zurich 1963).
81
JEWISH CHRISTIANITY
judge of the living and the dead who now reigns in heaven but will come
again at the end of the world (Acts 1:11; 3:20ff.). He is furthermore “the
Holy and Righteous One” (Acts 3:14), the apxvjyot; of life, who brings life
and is the origin of life. The designation “Servant of God”, familiar from its
use in the Old Testament, was used by the early Christians in a connexion
which suggests an increase and elevation of the dignity of the Messiah, for
this Servant was, according to Peter (Acts 3:13), glorified by God and sent
by him with the authority of a Messiah in order to bring redemption. He
was “thy holy servant Jesus” against whom his enemies had banded together
(Acts 4:27); the community hoped that miracles performed “in the name
of thy holy Servant” would give, as it were, letters of credence to the
ambassadors of the Gospel in their mission (Acts 4:30).
Finally, the risen Jesus was the Saviour, Swttqp, called by God to bring
salvation to men (Acts 5:31); the Christians believed that without him men
could not attain salvation, and so their faith in him included all that had
been given to mankind by redemption through Jesus Christ. The tidings
of salvation were, following the example set by Jesus, called by the apostles
in their preaching evangelium (“good news,” “Gospel”) (Acts 15:7; 20:24);
the preaching of salvation is usually referred to with the verb
euayyeXiêcOai. The content of their message is either simply “Jesus Christ”
(Acts 5:42; 8:35; 11:20) or “the Word of the Lord” (15:35), “peace by
Jesus Christ” (10:36), “the promise” (13:32) or “the Kingdom of God in
the name of Jesus Christ” (8:12).
The belief of the first Christians in salvation through Jesus Christ was
expressed in the most exclusive terms: “And there is salvation in no one
else, for there is no other name under heaven given among men, by which
we must be saved” (Acts 4:12). Circumcision could not save, but only the
grace of the Lord (15:1 11). The Gospel showed the way to this salvation,
but a man could accept it or reject it; therefore Peter adjures his audience:
“Save yourselves!” (2:40). The first step to salvation through Jesus was the
forgiveness of sins which he had brought (2:38; 5:31; 10:43; 13:38); he
was sent to turn men away from sin (3:26). Penance and inner conversion
were of course necessary for the removal of sins (3:19).
The reception of the Holy Spirit was for the primitive Church proof and
confirmation that salvation had already begun for its members. After the
first Pentecost the descent of the Spirit was continually repeated whenever
new brethren professed faith in the living Christ, as in Samaria (Acts 8:1 ff.),
at the baptism of Cornelius (10:44ff.), and even when the community
gathered together for prayer (4:31). It was the Holy Spirit who according
to their conviction gave that inner, supernatural strength which was effective
in the individual believer (2:33), and was also the cause of the missionary
zeal of the apostles and the other early messengers of the Gospel. They were
“filled with the Holy Spirit”, therefore they stepped forth boldly (4:8;
82
4:31). Stephen especially possessed this gift and so did Philip (6:5; 8:29),
and it showed itself too in Barnabas and Paul (11:24; 16:6 ff.). A man like
Simon Magus misunderstood its essential nature (8:20); unbelief resisted it
(7:51).
Other gifts which redemption by Jesus Christ brought to the faithful
were (eternal) life and membership of the kingdom of God. The apostles,
in their preaching, spoke of this life (Acts 5:20), which would be shared by
pagans who professed belief in the risen Christ, whereas the Jews by their
rejection of the Messiah rendered themselves unworthy of eternal life
(13:46 48). The kingdom of God is a theme which constantly recurs in the
preaching of the apostles, just as after the resurrection it was the subject of
Jesus’ conversation with them. The kingdom of God and eternal life, the
community knew, were not yet fully realized; their realization would come
only when the Lord came again, and therefore the first Christians were
filled with an ardent hope in the approaching parousia of their master. This
would bring about “the restitution of all things”; only with it would come
“the times of refreshment” (3:20ff.). But they believed that the final age
had already begun, they already possessed “peace by Jesus Christ“ (10:36),
they already partook of grace (4:33; 6:8; 15:11) and therefore lived
“rejoicing” (5:41; 8:8; 13:48) in “gladness and simplicity of heart” (2:46).
The religious life of the community was based upon these convictions.
Its members indeed lived wholly in the presence of the risen Lord, but they
did not therefore feel that they had to give up their inherited forms of
piety. So the first Christians, including their leaders Peter and John,
continued to attend prayers in the Temple (Acts 2:46; 3:1). The Jewish
hours of prayer were retained, as well as the gestures of worship and the
customary forms of words, which were used in their common prayer
together, especially the Psalms (3:1; 9:10; 9:40). Like James the Younger,
the Jewish Christians of Palestine felt themselves bound to follow the
religious and liturgical usages of their fathers. To the converts of the
Diaspora these things obviously meant less, as Stephen’s attitude makes
clear. The discussions at the apostolic Council show that a universally
held opinion as to the binding character of the Old Law did not exist in the
primitive Church. The demands of the group that affirmed its obligatory
force upon all believers were rejected; but in the so-called clauses of James
a certain consideration was accorded to this group, to facilitate harmony in
mixed congregations. It is noteworthy, however, that, in the preaching of
the apostles, obedience to the Law as a condition of salvation is not stressed.
Nevertheless, there was not in the primitive Church of Jerusalem any
complete breaking away from the liturgical practices of Palestinian Jewry
as a whole.
We can, however, observe certain tendencies that were later to lead to in
dependent forms of piety and ritual. Such a new liturgical act was baptism
83
JEWISH CHRISTIANITY
itself,30 which was the basis of membership in the community. It was by no

means merely a matter of taking over the baptism of John, for the baptism
of the Christians was unequivocally carried out “in the name of Jesus
Christ, for the forgiveness of your sins” (Acts 2:38). Jesus as a person
was thus the centre of this liturgical act; from him it got its supernatural
efficacy, namely the forgiveness of sins and entry into the community of
the faithful. The reception of the Holy Spirit was also in some way bound
up with baptism, although the connexion of ideas is not quite clear.
Baptism was often followed by a laying on of hands, which was the means
of imparting the Spirit; this rite could also take place at a later time, but
baptism was felt to be a prerequisite for the reception of the Holy Spirit.
The author of the Acts of the Apostles says in his description of the life
of the Jerusalem Christians that they were persevering in “the breaking of
bread” (Acts 2:42). Although absolute certainty is hardly possible, many
commentators31 think this refers to the liturgical celebration in memory of
the Last Supper of the Lord, and they see in the expression “breaking of
bread” a designation that had already become a technical term for the
eucharistic celebration, which could take place only in the houses of the
faithful. This view is supported by a passage from Paul which is certainly
impressive. In his description of the Lord’s Supper he says that he is
drawing on the tradition of the Jerusalem community. His reference to “the
bread that we break” (1 Cor 10:16) is in a clearly eucharistic sense. Thus,
such a semantic development of the expression “breaking of bread” is at
least probable. The Acts later relate (20:7) how the Christians met “on the
first day of the week” to break bread. The special mention of the day on
which this celebration was held clearly indicates that the Lord’s Supper
is here referred to; a day was chosen which had no special significance in
the worship of the Jews. In this case too, we note a liturgical development
among the first Christians which marks a new departure; Sunday was the
day on which the young community assembled for its own form of worship.
Why Sunday was chosen it is not difficult to see, for it was the day of the
Lord’s resurrection, and with this fact was linked the expectation that he
would come again on the same day of the week. In view of the growing
tension between the early Church and the Jews, Sunday, as the special
festival of the Christians, continually rose in importance as opposed to the
Sabbath.32
Some new Christian religious practices are also indicated by the choice
30 G. Schille, "Zur urchristlichen Tauflehre” in ZNW 49 (1958), 31-52; G. R. B. Murray,

Baptism in the New Testament (London 1962).
31 Cf. e. g. C. Callewaert, “La synaxe eucharistique & Jerusalem” in EThL 15 (1938),
34-73; M. Meinertz, op. cit. 131 f.
32 W. Rordorf, Der Sonntag. Gcschichte des Ruhe- und Gottesdiensttages im altesten
Christentum (Zurich 1962).
84
of new fast days, different from the Jewish ones held on Monday and
Thursday. That the Christians preferred Friday is easily understood; it was
the day on which the Lord died. The choice of Wednesday as the second
fast day of the week follows the same line of thought; for it was on a
Wednesday that he was taken prisoner and his Passion began. Already
therefore the development of a liturgical week based upon Christian ways
of thinking is apparent, emphasizing the growing contrast with Jewish
practice.
The letter of James speaks of another Christian practice, the anointing
of the sick, which was entrusted to the elders: “Is any one among you sick?
Let him call for the elders (presbyters) of the Church and let them pray
over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord; and the prayer
of faith will save the sick man, and the Lord will raise him up; and if he
has committed sins, he will be forgiven” (James 5:14ff.). Even if the letter
was addressed to the Jewish Christians of the Diaspora, James would
hardly have recommended to them a religious custom unknown to his own
congregation.
The whole religious attitude of the primitive Church was rooted in a
courageous enthusiasm, prepared for sacrifice, which manifested itself above
all in works of active charity: “Now the company of those who believed
were of one heart and soul, and no one said that any of the things which he
possessed was his own, but they had everything in common” (Acts 4:32).
The brotherly love engendered by the enthusiasm of the new faith made
the individual believer easily and gladly renounce his private property in
order to help the poor of the community. The voluntary principle makes it
impossible to regard this early Christian community of goods as in any
way equivalent to modern Communism. Such enthusiasm was no doubt
largely nourished by the expectation among the Christians of the parousia33
to which reference has already been made. The generous indifference to the
goods of this world which it brought made them inwardly free, unselfish,
and therefore capable of great deeds. This moral and religious strength,
born of the faith and the eschatolbgical outlook of the primitive Church,
also gave its members the strength not to give up when the parousia failed
to arrive, but instead, to open the way for Christianity into a greater future.
83 J. Gewiess, op. cit. 31-38; O. Cullmann, “Parusie und Urchristentum” in ThLZ 83

(1958), 1-12; E. Kasemann, “Zum Thema der urchristlichen Apokalyptik” in ZThK 59
(1962), 257-84; R. Schnackenburg, Eschatologische Heilsgemeinde — Mysterium der Kirche
I (Salzburg 1962), 138-42.
85
SECTION TWO
The Way into the Pagan World
C hapter 4
The Religious Situation in the Graeco-Roman World

at the Time of its Encounter with Christianity
I n contrast with the political and cultural unity which prevailed in the
Mediterranean area at the beginning of the Christian era, we are presented
in the religious sphere, with a multiplicity of religions. In all her political
conquests Rome had never sought to impose on subject peoples a single
religious faith and a single form of worship, rather was it a principle of
Roman policy to leave undisturbed all the religious convictions and
practices of the tribes and nations included in the empire. A brief survey
of the manifold religious currents at the end of the pre-Christian period
of Hellenism will enable us to see clearly and to estimate the task with
which Christianity was faced when it undertook to win the Graeco-Roman
world for Christ.
Decline of the Ancient Greek and Roman Religions

The first characteristic of the general religious situation in the Hellenistic
world of the first century b.c . is the decline both of the ancient Greek
polytheism and of the old Roman religion. The causes for this development
are various and differ for each. In Greece itself, rationalistic criticism of the
gods, which had prevailed in the philosophical schools, and especially among
Stoics and Epicurians, had had an adverse effect on traditional beliefs. In
these circles belief in the Homeric gods had long since been given up. The
monistic doctrine of the Stoics, which offered the doctrine of a divine
providence (TCpovoia) and of the Logos as world-reason pervading and
ordering the universe, did not lead to the acceptance of a personal, super
natural God; for even the Stoic world-reason was subject to the iron law
of Heimarmene, which watches over the course of earthly events as they
revolve in an eternal circle, and thus deprives the Logos of freedom of
action. Epicurus, for his part, did indeed reject the existence of such an
inalterable fate, but his view of the world, following Democritus’ doctrine
of atomic laws, led only to a physically determined universe and likewise
86
GRAECO-ROMAN RELIGION
left no room for the mythical world of the gods or for a personal God
directing all things. The attempt of the Greek Euhemeros to explain belief
in the gods historically (Euhemerism), by saying that the gods were
outstanding personalities of the past to whom, when glorified in the memory
of men, divine honours had gradually come to be paid, only contributed
further to the decay of the Greek belief in the gods. Those who held such
ideas were indeed to be found at first only in “enlightened” upper-class
circles, but their subsequent popularization through the writings of the
Cynics and Stoics had a destructive effect on the faith of larger sections of
the people.
Political developments in the eastern Mediterranean area also played
their part in furthering the decline of the classical Greek religion. The
period of the rule of the Diadochs involved in Greece itself the final
dissolution of the old city-states, and this in turn was a death-blow to the
religious cults which had been maintained by them or their associations of
noble families. The newly founded Hellenistic cities in the East, with their
commercial possibilities, enticed many Greeks to emigrate, so that the
homeland grew poorer and many ancient sanctuaries fell into ruin. Of
much more far-reaching effect was the exchange of religious ideas and their
liturgical forms of expression, which was brought about by the hellenization
of the East, an exchange in which the gods of Greece and the Orient were
to a great extent assimilated to one another but lost many of their original
attributes in the process. After a manner, of course, the religion of ancient
Greece extended its influence; together with the externals of the way of
life of the Greek polis, its forms of worship also reached the colonies of the
East, and so there soon arose in them magnificent monuments of religious
art in its characteristic Hellenistic form. But the spirit of the old religion
was not to be found in them. On the other hand, oriental cults streamed
into Greece and beyond to the western parts of the empire, effecting there
a decline of old beliefs and, even in spite of new forms, a loss of religious
content.
The ancient Roman religion was also subjected to the same process of
dissolution. Since the Second Punic War there had been a steadily growing
hellenization of Roman religion, which expressed itself in the erection in
increasing numbers of temples and statues of Greek gods on Roman
territory. While the Hellenistic gods were introduced mainly by way of the
Greek cities of southern Italy and Sicily, it was the direct influence of Greek
literature on the beginnings of Latin literature which very largely promoted
the hellenization of religion. The stage, with its Latin versions of Greek
comedies and other poetical works, also made the people familiar with the
world of the Greek gods and mythology. In the face of such an invasion,
the ancient gods and their festivals receded into the background, and this,
in turn, led to a decline in influence of the colleges of priests who maintained
87
THE WAY INTO THE PAGAN WORLD
the worship of the old Roman gods. When towards the end of the Second
Punic War the Sibylline books demanded the introduction of the cult of
Cybele from Asia Minor, the gods of the East began their triumphal entry
into Rome and contributed to the disintegration of the ancient Roman
faith. All attempts to stem the invasion on the part of the Senate and of
those circles in Rome which viewed these developments with anxiety were
in the long run unsuccessful.
The military conquests of the last century of the Republic made the
Roman troops familiar with the cult of Mithras, and increasing contact
with oriental civilization at last opened the gates of the capital to the
worship of the Cappadocian Bellona and the Egyptian Isis. Even less could
the penetration of Hellenistic philosophical ideas be prevented among the
Roman upper class, to whom Stoic thought made a strong appeal; but with
them came also a critical attitude towards the gods and a deterministic view
of the universe. Especially in Rome itself the sceptical attitude of the leaders
of society towards belief in the gods and the State religion could not remain
concealed, and so the private family religion of the citizens was infected.
The Roman populace still took a keen interest in the games, which were of
religious origin; but they were a poor substitute, since their connexion with
any religious function was no longer consciously felt.
Augustus on attaining the supreme power had attempted to call a halt
to the threatened religious and moral breakdown of the people and
introduced a comprehensive reconstruction of the State religion and of
belief in it. It was this last that he could no longer recreate. The old colleges
of priests were indeed reorganized, shrines were restored, forgotten feasts
revived, and members of the leading families once more assumed religious
offices and functions. But the inner spiritual content was already too little
for the renewed cult to be performed with any real participation of the
heart. This is especially apparent in Horace, whose Carmen Saeculare,
written in 17 b.c . to celebrate the dawn of a new epoch in Rome, reflects
his own scepticism by its lack of deep religious feeling. Even the fact that
in 12 b.c . Augustus himself assumed the title of pontifex maximus and
linked it for ever with the principate could not change the course of events.
The Emperor Cult

One feature of Augustus’s religious policy was to have far-reaching
consequences and to be of special significance when it encountered the
growing power of Christianity, namely the adoption of the oriental cult of
the ruler and the attempt to include it in his reorganization of the State
religion under the modified form of the emperor cult. Religious veneration
of the ruler had its origin in the East, where royal power was early regarded
as having a religious basis. Alexander and his successors were able to build
88
on this foundation when they added to it elements of Greek hero cult and
Stoic ideas about the superiority of the wise man, and thus succeeded in
introducing the religious cult of Hellenistic kingship. The first to adopt it
were the diadochs of the Near East, and after them, without any special
difficulty, the Ptolemies of Egypt, for in that country there already existed
a willing priesthood. The example of the Ptolemies was soon followed by
the Seleucides. The Hellenistic sovereigns received from the Greek cities of
Asia Minor in return for favours and benefits, the title Soter, to which
others of a religious character, such as Epiphanes and Kyrios, were later
added. The idea increasingly prevailed that in the reigning king God visibly
manifested himself. When the kingdoms of the diadochs were replaced by
the Roman power, it was natural to transfer the cult of the ruler to those
who embodied that power and to pay religious honours to them too. As
the Roman Republic lacked a monarch, temples and statues were erected to
Roma herself as a personification of Roman power. Even individual Roman
generals, such as Anthony, permitted themselves without hesitation to be
accorded divine honours when in the East.
It was easy for Augustus to take advantage of this veneration of the
ruler in the eastern provinces of the empire, by having temples and shrines
to himself set up alongside those of the goddess Roma and by not refusing
religious honours, the offering of which was the responsibility of the
municipal authorities or the provincial governments. To Augustus personally
such honours were most willingly granted, because the pax Augusta had
brought lasting peace to those territories, and he thus enjoyed unparalleled
popularity.
In Rome and Italy the cult of the ruler had to be introduced more
discreetly. There the Senate decided only after the emperor’s death whether
consecratio, inclusion among the gods, should be accorded to him because
of his services to the State. In fact, the Senate had already placed Caesar as
Divus Julius among the immortals, established a special cult for him with
its own priesthood and thus introduced religious veneration of the Julian
house. No doubt Eastern influences were at work here too. Octavian was
able to assume the title Augustus, which was of a religious nature. Private
citizens were to sacrifice to the genius of the emperor in their houses, for in
him the divine was made manifest; men swore by the genius of the emperor,
and the breaking of such an oath was regarded as high treason. When Vergil
sings in his fourth Eclogue that in Augustus an old Etruscan prophecy has
clearly been fulfilled, according to which a saviour should come into the
world as a child and inaugurate a new Golden Age, we discern the same
idea, namely the ascription of divine origin to the ruler.
In the course of the first century a .d . some of the Roman emperors gave
up the prudent restraint of Augustus and demanded divine honours in Rome
89
during their lifetime,1 although their way of life and their performance
as rulers of the empire hardly recommended them for deification; this had
the effect of somewhat cheapening the emperor cult in Rome. Nevertheless
there were even in the West private organizations which devoted themselves
to promoting this cult. Since the cult of the Emperor was intimately linked
with the power of the State, special importance was inevitably attached to
it when Christianity, which rejected any form of divine honours paid to
men, sooner or later came into conflict with that State.
The Eastern Mystery Cults

While the cult of the emperor as part of the State religion was becoming
of universal significance both in East and West, though graduated
in intensity in different parts of the empire, the oriental mystery-cults
always retained their original private character, albeit their influence on
all classes was considerable. The chief reason for their attraction is to be
found in their claim to be able to give the individual a liberating answer
to his questions about his fate in the next world. They claimed to show
him how, by ordering his way of life in this world, he could assure his
survival in the next; in a word, how he could find his eternal salvation,
cromjpia.
The oriental mystery-cults could begin their conquest of the East after
Alexander’s campaigns provided the opportunity. At first they groped
their way slowly, gaining gradually a more certain foothold in the
commercial and cultural centres, until by imperial times they reached the
zenith of their influence. The Greeks on the coast of Asia Minor were
the readiest to accept this new world of religious experience; and they
were the principal means of its spreading to the West.
These cults were not strictly exclusive, but adopted from time to
time elements of existing religious systems, permeated them, mingled
characteristics of related divinities with those of their own objects of
worship, and thus contributed to that religious syncretism which is typical
of the Hellenistic age. Three oriental civilizations were the sources from
which the new cults flowed into the Hellenistic world: those of Egypt, Asia
Minor and Syria, to which may be added that of Iran, whence came the
cult of Mithras which was of a rather different type.
In the centre of the Egyptian cult stood first of all the figures of Isis
and Osiris, who are well known from the official religion of Egypt. The
goddess Isis was honoured every year by a solemn procession, in which
the outlandish and bizarre parade of shaven-headed, white-clad priests,
of noisy musicians and other strange participants was the most noticeable
1 K. Scott, The Imperial Cult under the Flavians (Stuttgart 1936).
90
feature. In the course of a long development, Isis had become a universal

goddess who was believed to have brought morality and civilization to
mankind. She was regarded as the inventor of agriculture and writing, as
goddess of seafarers, as foundress of law and civil order, a protectress of
the persecuted and liberator from every kind of distress.
In the secret cult of Isis, Osiris figured as her husband. He was the
ancient Egyptian god of vegetation, who died and rose again, as the annual
sowing and growth of the crops symbolically signify. His death was
mourned by his worshippers, his resurrection celebrated with joy. In his
dying, man saw his own death expressed; but like Osiris he would rise
again to new life. That is the basic idea of these mysteries, to which the
goddess Isis, in a dream, would herself call him who was found worthy.
An impressive initiation ceremony2 consecrated the chosen one to the
service of the goddess; he had previously prepared himself by a bath of
purification and a ten days’ fast, and he was now led by the priest into
the sanctuary of the temple of Isis, crossed the threshold of death, passed
through all the elements and adored the sun and the gods. Clothed with
the "mantle of Heaven”, with a torch in his hand and a wreath on his
head, he was then presented to the congregation as an image of the sun-god,
celebrating the day on which he was born to a new life. Before the
statue of the goddess he spoke an enthusiastic prayer of thanksgiving,
pledging himself constantly to keep in mind her divine countenance and
her holiness.
In the Ptolemaic period Osiris was pushed into the background by the
new Egyptian god Sarapis (Serapis), a creation of Ptolemy I, who wished
in this way to unite the Egyptians and the Greeks of his kingdom. Therefore
Sarapis combined in himself features which appealed to all the king’s
subjects: he too is associated with Isis as a god of life and death, earth-god
and sun-god. Not only did his image, with its Hellenistic beauty, radiate
sublime tenderness and helpful humanity, reminding one of Zeus and
Asclepios; but his whole being made him widely honoured as a helper in
material and spiritual needs. He was the Lord of Fate who led the soul safely
into the next world. Zealous propaganda spread his cult from his main
sanctuary, the Sarapeion at Alexandria, over the whole Mediterranean
world as far as Rome; everywhere resounded the cry of praise: “Sarapis is
conqueror!” (Noca 6 Sapa7u<;). It was he whom Emperor Julian was to
praise in words which reveal the monotheistic tendency of the cult: “One
is Zeus and Hades and Helios, One is Sarapis.” 3
Asia Minor was the home of the cult of the Great Mother, the fertility
2 Cf. the description of the ritual in Apuleius, Metam. X I; see W. Wittmann, Das Isisbuch
des Apuleius von Madaura (Stuttgart 1938).
8 Julian, Or at. 4,136 A.
91
goddess Cybele, who was early known to the Greeks. In the Hellenistic age
her worship spread quickly beyond her homeland and was introduced into
Rome as early as 204 b.c . She too was connected with a male divinity,
the Nature hero Attis, her lover. According to the myth (of which more
than one version exists), Attis was unfaithful to her, wherefore he was
cast into a frenzy, from the consequences of which he died. He was
awakened to new life and reunited with the Great Mother. This myth
became the basis of a wild and strange mystery cult, served by a special
college of priests, the Galli. These, by ecstatic dancing and flagellation,
brought on their own “mystical” frenzy, in which they were driven
even to self-castration. In the rite of initiation, the candidate or mysta
symbolically relived the fate of his god in death and resurrection; he was
sprinkled with the blood of a bull and then entered the “bridal chamber’’,
which he left as one reborn. At a sacred meal he made his profession as a
mysta of Attis, and a priest proclaimed to the initiated the joyful tidings:
“Be comforted, ye mystae! Salvation came to the god. So also shall we
be partakers of salvation after tribulation.” 4 Here, too, the promise of
salvation was the deciding motive for joining the cult, the orgiastic features
of which were not altogether foreign to a Greek, if he remembered the ways
in which Dionysus had formerly been worshipped by his countrymen. The
excesses of self-mutilation attendant upon the cult could, indeed, hardly
have had much attraction for him; and Greek comedy did not spare with
its mockery the itinerant priests of Cybele who travelled through the land
propagating their religion.
A cult which originated at Byblos on the Syrian coast was marked
by similar ecstatic features. Its divinities were the Mistress of Nature,
Atargatis, akin to Cybele, and the beautiful youth Adonis, her husband.
The latter was also a god of vegetation who died and rose again. According
to the myth he was wounded by a boar while hunting and died of his
wounds, but in the spring he would rise once more, a radiant god.
The centre of the mystical celebration was the annual commemoration
of Adonis’ death, at which the women of Byblos abandoned themselves
to unrestrained mourning, and interred an image of the youthful god amid
loud lamentations. After a short time their mourning was turned to gladness,
and the worshippers of the god joyfully proclaimed: “Adonis lives!” The
symbolism of this cult, too, expressing sorrow at premature death and
longing for a rejuvenating resurrection, was able to attract many people
in the later Hellenistic period.
The three mystery cults have, in spite of differences of detail, one basic
idea in common. The death and constant renewal observed in Nature were
4 Firmicus Maternus, De Errore Prof. Rel. 22: ©appeixe, puiarai, to o ©eou aea<oa|iivou-
£oxai yap rjpuv iv. 7r6vtov aomjpta.
92
symbolically crystallized in the myth of a young god of vegetation, who

is torn from the side of the goddess by a tragic death but rises again to new
life. By this is represented the fate of man, whose strange and sometimes
incomprehensibly tragic death weighed like a dark burden upon the thought
and feeling of Antiquity. Should there not be for him also, as for the god
in the myth, a resurrection into a mysterious hereafter? The mere possibility,
hinted at in the myth, of such an eschatological hope was bound to appeal
to Hellenistic man. Precisely because the old religions of Greece and Rome
knew no encouraging answer to this exciting question, people turned to
these new forms of religious faith, whose attraction was increased by the
mysterious and outlandish nature of the initiation ceremonies, which seemed
like an echo from beyond the grave. The hymns and prayers, with their
intensity of feeling, caught in their spell many an anxious and excitable
mind.
The mystery cult of Mithras came also to be dominated by ideas of a
future life, though indeed these did not come to the fore until Christianity
was both inwardly and outwardly well established. This cult had its origins
in the Iranian world, was developed, as to its outward form, mainly in
Cappadocia, and then spread from East to West. At first it met with little
success in the central provinces of Asia Minor and Egypt and found hardly
any response in Greece, but it was all the more successful in the western
parts of the empire, where Rome and its surroundings — in Ostia alone
about fifteen sanctuaries of Mithras are known to have existed — and the
northern frontier on the Rhine were the regions in which it was most
prevalent. It was essentially a masculine cult, having most of its devotees
among the soldiers of the Roman army. Its main figure was the Persian
god Mithras, who stole a bull belonging to the moon and slew it on the
orders of Apollo; the representation of this event is the central motif of
the image which was set up in all Mithraic temples. The blood of a bull
was sprinkled over the believers, who were thus initiated and became
entitled to expect salvation. The candidate for initiation prepared himself
by undergoing various tests of courage and ritual washings; after his
reception he proceeded through seven grades to that of a full disciple of
Mithras. As Mithras was taken up by the sun-god Helios in the chariot of
the sun, so did the disciple hope to be raised up in glory in the next world.
The members of the cult were also united in a sacred meal, which prefigured,
to those who partook of it, a happy life together in the hereafter.
Our sources give no precise data enabling us to state the number of
devotees of all these cults. Their expansion throughout the Hellenistic world
and their relative density in the larger centres of population leads us to
suppose that their membership was not inconsiderable. The educated upper
classes were, no doubt, least represented; these rather sought fulfilment of
93
their religious needs in the philosophical schools of the time.5 All the more
did the mystery cults appeal to the middle classes, whose religious feelings
were not yet stifled by the material brilliance of Hellenistic civilization;
they longed for actual contact with the divine and to find in rites appealing
to the senses, an interpretation of life and a palpable guarantee of a better
lot in the next world.
Popular Religion
Emperor cult and mystery religions did not, however, appeal to everyone
in the Mediterranean world. The former was relatively seldom in evidence
and it had moreover little contact with the rural population. As for the
mystery cults, their esoteric character made them difficult of approach
for many. The great mass of simple folk, therefore, turned towards the lower
kinds of superstition, which in Hellenistic times especially were very
widespread in numerous forms.
Chief of these, no doubt, was the belief in astrology, which ascribed
to the stars a decisive influence on human destiny. The Graeco-Roman
world first became more closely acquainted with it when Berossos, a priest
of Baal from Babylon, the home of all astrology, set up a school on the
island of Cos in 280 b.c . In the second century b.c . the priest Petosiris in
Egypt wrote the fundamental astrological work on which later astrological
literature repeatedly drew. A decisive factor was that Stoic philosophy
was on the side of astrology, because it found therein confirmation of its
doctrine that all things in this world were determined by the laws of
destiny. The rejection of astrology by the Academic Carneades was far
outweighed by the authority of Poseidonios, who gave to belief in astrology
the appearance of a scientifically based system and gained for it such a
degree of consideration that Roman emperors like Tiberius kept their own
court astrologers, while others such as Marcus Aurelius and Septimius
Severus erected, for the seven planetary gods, special buildings, the
septizonia, which became centres of astrological activity. An extensive
literature spread astrological knowledge among high and low and provided
its readers with a belief in fate founded upon the stars; not only for important
undertakings, but even in the simple and commonplace affairs of everyday
life, they consulted the stars with an almost slavish fear. Whether one should
go on a journey, accept an invitation to a party, take a bath — such
matters depended on the words of an astrologer, who invariably found
numerous believers in his wisdom. He was consulted especially to find out
the position of the stars at the hour of birth, for that determined the whole
of a person’s life — whether he were destined for success or failure, sickness
5 W. Nestle, Griechische Religiositat, III (Berlin 1934), 86-98.
94
or health, above all for long life or early death. This particular question
concerning the hour of death, the darkest of all hours in the life of man in
Antiquity, drove him constantly into the arms of astrology. Even when
its adherents asserted that through information obtained from astrologers,
they had achieved certainty and so were delivered from care and anxiety,
they deceived themselves and sooner or later fell victims to a gloomy
fatalism, which found expression in many an epitaph of the time. If life
was so inevitably subject to the fatal power of the stars, there was no point
in praying to the gods, and so faith in the old religions fell into greater
neglect than ever among devotees of astrology.
Magic offered an escape from the iron compulsion of astrological fate.
It undertook by secret practices to bring into the service of man both the
power of the stars and all the good and evil forces of the universe. This
form of superstition had likewise made its way from the ancient East to
the West and, especially in Egypt, had reached alarming depths of religious
confusion during the Hellenistic period. The magical books of Antiquity
and numerous magical papyri which have survived give an instructive
glimpse into that world, in which primitive human instincts, fear of the
obscure and incomprehensible in Nature and in human events, hatred of
fellow-men, delight in sensation, the thrill of the uncanny all find unre
strained expression. Belief in magic presupposes that mighty fear of demons
which, from the fourth century b.c . onwards in ever more fantastic forms,
had spread in the imagination of Hellenistic man. According to this belief,
the whole world was filled with SoufAove?, Suvapet?, xupioTTjTc? and ocoyovrs?,
strange beings halfway between men and gods. Greater and greater became
the number of evil demons who could and would harm mankind, but whose
power could be held in check by magic. But in order that magic rites and
magic words might be effective, one must first of all know the secret name
of the god or demon and employ exactly the prescribed formula, however
senseless its text might appear.
The professional magician, who was master of this secret science, could
make the weather, set free captives, heal or induce sicknesses, calm the
sea, sunder lovers or assure one of the love of another, deliver from
diabolical possession, call up the dead and make them appear. The influence
of such magic was supported and confirmed by certain philosophical
currents, such as neo-Pythagoreanism and the neo-Platonic school, which,
with their highly developed doctrine of demons, contributed largely to the
extensive demonization of Hellenistic religion. A certain influence on
contemporary magical literature must be ascribed to Judaism, in which
magical practices and conjuring of spirits were quite usual (Acts 8:9-13).
Connected with magic were the belief in the secret meaning of dreams
and the art of interpreting them which consequently developed. The latter
wasparticulary successful in Egypt; special dream-books informed credulous
95
readers about the meaning and import of things seen in dreams, and even
the most bizarre interpretation found believers. No wonder that the ancient
faith in the wisdom of oracles survived into Hellenistic times, only that,
in this case too, a descent from a higher level to one of mere charlatanism is
observable. Though the Delphic oracle of Apollo and that of the Egyptian
Ammon were less respected, others gained in popularity, such as the oracle
of Apollo near Miletus, that of Glycon at Abunoteichos in northern Asia
Minor (which uttered about 60,000 pronouncements annually), or the oracle
of Fortuna at Praeneste, to consult which the Romans made pilgrimages
into the Campagna. At popular festivals professional soothsayers were
regularly to be found, who with their oracular mirrors and sacred cocks
were at the disposal of all classes of the population. A higher form of
oracular soothsaying is exemplified by the Sibylline books, collections of
which were numerous.6
Finally, the strong belief in miracles characteristic of the Hellenistic age
belonged mainly to popular religion, even though it was shared by many
among the educated classes. The miracle that was most ardently longed
for was the restoration of lost health. For this, men prayed to the god
Asclepios, who in the Hellenistic period was worshipped more than ever
before. Originally a physician and demigod who healed the sick, he became
the helper of mankind in distress, the “saviour of all”. Where his principal
temples stood, there soon developed places of pilgrimage, to which pilgrims
streamed from far and near, in order that they might, after preparatory
washings, be healed during sleep in or near the sanctuary, or that they might
learn of the medicine that would take away their sickness. The great
sanctuary of Asclepios (dating from the fourth century b.c .) at Epidauros
in the Peloponnese was overshadowed in Hellenistic times by the mag
nificently laid out temple of the god at Pergamon,7 this, in its turn, became
the mother-house of numerous new foundations, of which about two
hundred are now known to have existed.
Men expected of the saviour Asclepios that he would make the blind see,
restore to the lame the use of their limbs and to the dumb their speech,
and that he would heal lung diseases and dropsy. If the miraculous cure
succeeded, thanks to the god were expressed by costly votive gifts, which
often took the form of gold or silver images of the healed member, thus
proclaiming to all who visited the temple the wonder-working power of
Asclepios. In the second century a .d . the rhetor Aelius Aristides became the
enthusiastic prophet of this saviour; and the emperor Julian in the fourth
century sought to set him up again as the saviour of mankind in opposition
6 A. Kurfess, Sibyllinische Weissagungen (Munich 1951).

7 K. Kerenyi, Der gottliche A n t. Studien iiber Asklepios and seine Kultstdtte (Basle,
2nd ed. 1952).
96
to the Saviour of the Christians. Christianity itself waged a long and hard
campaign against Asclepios’ claim to be a saviour, the beginnings of which
are already apparent in the New Testament writings of John, and which
lasted into the fourth century.8
When one considers the general religious situation in the Hellenistic
world at the beginning of the Christian era, the first impression is
discouraging, if the missionary task of the early Church is seen in relation
to it. The cult of the emperor was bound to prove a great obstacle to the
peaceful expansion of the new faith, if only because the tidings of a
Redeemer who had been executed upon the cross like a criminal were not
likely to be readily accepted by a superficial society which had before its
eyes the sacred figure on the imperial throne, surrounded by all the trappings
of earthly glory. Moreover, the State could set all the machinery of power
in motion if the adherents of the Gospel dared to disdain or attack this
State cult, were it only with words alone. A further factor that would
seem to prevent the acceptance of Christianity was the extreme licentiousness
of the oriental mystery cults, the orgiastic features of which often led to
serious moral deterioration. The reliance of these cults on outward
demonstrations, calculated to affect the senses, was frequently due to a
religious superficiality that was part of Hellenistic civilization, which was
itself becoming more and more lacking in depth and inner feeling. The
contemporary bold and disrespectful criticism of the gods, with its contempt
for the beliefs and worship of the old religions, was another unfavourable
factor, undermining as it did all reverence for what was sacred. The
mocking irony with which educated circles greeted the preaching of Paul
at Athens shows clearly what attitude the Christian missionary had to
overcome there.
But, in opposition to these negative tendencies, we may discern also some
positive features in the general picture of Hellenistic religion which may
be regarded as starting-points for the preaching of the new faith. There was,
for instance, the feeling of emptiness which had undeniably arisen among
men of more thoughtful nature on account of the failure of the ancient
religions. It was not too difficult to fill this emptiness with a message that
proclaimed a high ideal of morality and thus appealed particularly to those
who felt disgusted with their own previous lives. Certain features of the
mystery cults show the presence of a deep desire of redemption in the men
of that time which was bound to be quickened when eternal salvation was
offered by a Saviour who, while stripped of all earthly greatness, was for
that very reason superior to a helper who would bring only salvation in
8 F. J. Dolger, “Der Heiland” in AuC, VI (1950), 241-72; K. H. Rengstorf, Die Anfange

der Auseinandersetzung zwischen Christusglaube und Asklepiosfrdmmigkeit (Munster
1953).
97
this world. Finally, the strong tendency to monotheism, so apparent in the

religions of the Hellenistic period,9 provided the Christian missionaries
with an ideal bridgehead in the pagan lands, for the peoples of which —
as for the Jews — “ the fullness of time was come” (Gal 4:4).
C hapter 5
The Apostle Paul and the Structure of the Pauline Congregations

O nly through a series of shocks could Jewish Christianity arrive at the
knowledge that it was under an obligation to carry the tidings of redemption
through Jesus Christ into the Gentile world also; the after-effects of the
Israelites’ consciousness of being the Chosen People were too strong. The
first reception of a pagan into the community of the faithful, the baptism of
the Ethiopian chamberlain by Philip (Acts 8:26-39), appears to have given
no cause for a fundamental change of attitude. All the more powerful was
the effect created by the baptism of the pagan captain Cornelius of Caesarea
and his family (Acts 10:1-11:18). Peter, who was responsible for this step,
was formally called to account by the disturbed community, and only his
reference to the commission given to him directly by God in a vision was
able to reconcile the Jewish Christians in some measure to his action.
However significant this was in principle, it had at first no immediate
consequences in the way of increased missionary activity among the
Gentiles.
The impulse which started such activity came from a group of Hellenistic
Jewish Christians from Cyprus and Cyrenaica, who had had to leave
Jerusalem after the persecution of Stephen and had first settled in Antioch.
Here they “spoke to the Greeks also, preaching the Lord Jesus” and “a great
number that believed, turned to the Lord” (Acts ll:19ff.). Thus, the first
numerically significant group of pagans that accepted Christianity came
from the world of Hellenistic civilization, which showed that there the
Christian faith need not expect to meet with uncompromising rejection.
The success of this missionary expedition caused the Jerusalem congregation
to send one of its members, the former levite Barnabas,10 to Antioch, in
order to appraise the situation. Barnabas, who himself came from the Jewish
Diaspora in Cyprus, was sufficiently unprejudiced to be able to appreciate
the importance of the events at Antioch. He approved the reception of the
9 W. Weber, Die Vereinheitlichung der religiosen Welt: Probleme der Spdtantike (Stutt
gart 1930), 67-100.
10 H. Bruns, Barnabas (Berlin 1937); J. B. Bruger, Museum Helveticum 3 (1946), 180-93.
98
THE APOSTLE PAUL
Greeks into the Church and at the same time saw clearly what was to be of
vast consequence for the history of the world: that for the preaching of the
new faith in this place there were needed the courage and spirit of the man
who, after his own remarkable conversion to Christ, had withdrawn to his
Cilician home town: Paul (or Saul) of Tarsus. Barnabas succeeded in
persuading him to work in the Syrian city, and after a year’s labouring
together, the existence of the first large Gentile community was assured.
It was at Antioch that its members first received the name of “Christians”
(Acts 11:22-26).
The Religious History of the Apostle Paul

Like his earliest collaborator, Barnabas, Paul also came from the Diaspora;
his birthplace was Tarsus in Cilicia, where his father carried on the trade
of saddler which the son also learnt. When the family settled there is
uncertain; according to a late account, his ancestors came from Galilee.
His father already possessed hereditary Roman citizenship, the privileges
of which Paul could later invoke with effect in his trial before the Roman
governor. It was a fortunate circumstance for Paul’s missionary work in
the great centres of Hellenistic culture that he had in his youth11 become
acquainted with all the manifold aspects of that culture in the fair-sized
city of Tarsus with its lively transit traffic. Of even more consequence was
the fact that the Greek koine, the common tongue of the Mediterranean
region, had become as familiar to him as his native Aramaic. His family
had, with that firm loyalty often to be found in a Diaspora situation,
remained true to the convictions and traditions of Judaism, all the more
so as it followed the Pharisaic school in its strict observance of the Law.
It was probably not until after the death of Jesus that Paul went to
Jerusalem to be trained as a teacher of the Law in the school of the Pharisee
Gamaliel (Acts 22:3). When the disciples of Jesus began to attract the
attention of the Jewish authorities, Paul joined zealously in persecuting
them, especially after the martyrdom of the deacon Stephen (Acts 7:58;
8:3). The account in the Acts of the Apostles is impressively confirmed by
his own witness: “I persecuted the Church of God violently and tried
to destroy it; and I advanced in Judaism beyond many of my own age
among my people, so extremely zealous was I for the traditions of my
fathers” (Gal 1:13f.; cf. 1 Cor 15:9).
The lightning and radical change which made the persecutor into an
ardent disciple of Jesus and his Gospel was, according to the Acts (9:3-18;
11 Cf. W. C. van Unnik, “Tarsus of Jerusalem de Stad van Paulus’ Jeugd”, Mededelingen
Koninkl. Nederl. Akad. Wetenschappen, Afd. Letterkunde NR 15, 5 (1952), 141-89; Eng.
tr. Tarsus or Jerusalem, the City of Paul’s Youth (London 1962).
99
22:3-16; 26:12-30), brought about by a direct apparition of Jesus which

Paul encountered when he was on his way to Damascus to persecute the
Christians there. Paul refers to this event only in restrained terms in his
letters (cf. Gal 1:15; 1 Cor 15:9; Phil 3:4), but he makes it clear that in
the apparition of the Lord he saw the supernatural call of grace that, by
calling him to be an apostle, gave his life the final purpose which he was
never to give up and in which he was never to falter.
Soon after being baptized and during a short stay in Nabataean Arabia,
Paul began to proclaim in the synagogues of Damascus and later in
Jerusalem the message of his life, that Jesus was "the Messiah and the Son
of God” (Acts 9:20, 22, 26—29). At both places he met with such strong
opposition that his life was in danger; he therefore withdrew to his native
city of Tarsus (Acts 9:30); and here, no doubt, while he may have engaged
in local missionary activity on a small scale, he attained certainty about
the scope of his mission and the forms which his preaching of the Gospel
was to take. When, after several years’ silence, he resumed work in Antioch,
he knew that he was to concern himself with the pagan world which, no
less than the Jews, could find its salvation only in Jesus Christ (Gal 1:16;
Rom 15:15 f.).
The Mission of Paul
Once Paul knew that he was called to preach to the pagans, the Roman Em
pire presented itself as the appointed mission field. Within its frontiers dwelt
those to whom his message must be addressed; they shared the same
civilization and (in the cities at least) the same language, the koine. However
much he felt himself to be immediately guided, even in detail, by the Spirit
of God, it is nevertheless possible to speak of a plan to which he adhered.
His journeys were mapped out at a kind of mission-base. For his first
missionary period, up to the Apostolic Council at Jerusalem, his base was
the Syrian capital, Antioch. The Gentile Christian congregation, which had
grown up there, was at once spur and bridle for the first large missionary
undertaking that Paul began with two companions, Barnabas and the
latter’s kinsman, John Mark. The account of it which the Acts give us
clearly shows the special character of Paul’s method.
The starting-points for his missionary work were the synagogues of the
cities in the Mediterranean provinces; here the Diaspora Jews held their
religious meetings, and here were to be found former pagans who had
joined the Jewish community as proselytes or "God-fearing ones”. The
missionaries first went to Cyprus, where they worked in the city of Salamis.
From there the way led to the mainland of Asia Minor, where the cities
of Antioch in Pisidia, Iconium, Lystra and Derbe in the province of
Lycaonia, and Perge in Pamphylia were the scene of their labours. Every-
100
THE APOSTLE PAUL
where Paul’s preaching was addressed to both groups, Diaspora Jews and
former pagans. Both discussed his sermons and in both he met with
acceptance and rejection; it is possible that the discussions reached the ears
of the occasional pagan, who then joined the band of disciples (cf. Acts
13:49).
The Acts leave us no room to doubt that the majority of the Diaspora
Jews decidedly rejected the message of Paul. In many places, as for example
at Antioch in Pisidia, Iconium, and Lystra, excited discussions developed
into tumults, in the course of which the missionaries were driven out,
sometimes mishandled. The initiative on these occasions lay with the Jews,
who occasionally goaded their pagan fellow-citizens into using violence —
a characteristic trait which can be observed in many subsequent persecutions.
Nevertheless the preaching of Paul and his assistants generally found some
receptive hearts, especially among the former pagans, “God-fearing ones”
and proselytes, and thus there arose in most cities visited on this first
journey Christian congregations, to which suitable leaders were appointed.
In this way there were established a number of cells of the faith amid
pagan surroundings which became centres of further activity.12 Clearly
this was Paul’s real object, for he never stayed very long in one place to
work in depth, but aimed rather at making the Gospel known in as many
places as possible in Asia Minor, leaving its further propagation to the
newly-won disciples of Jesus. Paul certainly regarded the result of this
first undertaking as a success, for his report to the congregation at the
mission-base of Antioch reaches its culmination when he says how God
“had opened the door of faith to the Gentiles” (Acts 14:26).
Paul, in conformity with his own conviction that belief in Christ implied
the end of obligations under the Old Law, had not imposed either
circumcision or the observance of other Jewish ritual prescriptions upon
the Gentile Christian congregations of Asia Minor. This freedom from the
Law for new converts, a central point of his message, was soon after his
return decisively rejected by the extreme wing of Palestinian Jewish
Christians, the so-called Judaizers, who demanded circumcision as an
essential condition for attaining salvation (Acts 15:1-5). This was the
occasion of that dispute between Paul and the Judaizers in the primitive
Church, which reached its climax and its theoretical resolution at the
Council of Jerusalem, but which was to hinder Paul’s missionary work for
a long time and compel him again and again to engage in a determined
battle for his convictions.
The dispute began at Antioch, when “some from Judaea” demanded
circumcision of the Gentile Christians in the local congregation. It was
12 F. J. Schierse, Zellen und Gruppenbildung im Urchristentum: Die Zelle in Kirche and

Welt (Graz-Vienna-Cologne 1960), 111-28.
101
decided to send a delegation with Paul and Barnabas to Jerusalem to settle

the question. Consultation led to the recognition in principle of the Pauline
thesis that the Mosaic Law could have no binding force for Gentile
Christians, and so the independence of the Pauline mission was acknowl
edged by the original apostles. Paul also undertook the task of collecting
money in the congregations of his mission field for the poor of the Jerusalem
community, symbolically testifying by this charitable act to the mutual
bond between Gentile and Jewish Christians (Gal 2:1-10).13
The Acts also tell of the resolution to “lay no further burden” upon the
newly converted pagans; nevertheless James proposed that they should be
required to “abstain from things sacrificed to idols and from blood and
from things strangled and from fornication” (Acts 15:28 f.). Perhaps James
intended this concession to Judaism to facilitate the living together in one
community of Jewish and Gentile Christians. It is hard to reconcile this
account with that of Paul in his letter to the Galatians; one is led to suppose
that this point was only later brought into harmony with the resolutions of
the assembly at Jerusalem. How difficult it was in practice to carry out
the latter appears from the incident between Peter and Paul at Antioch
mentioned in Galatians 2:14. Peter came to Syria probably soon after the
Council of Jerusalem and took part in the communal meals of the
congregation there; but he gave up doing so, “fearing them who were of the
circumcision”, Jewish Christians belonging to James’ circle who had
appeared in Antioch. His action signified a disparagement, if not a betrayal
of the Gentile Christians by a leading personality of the primitive Church,
which was in direct contradiction to the resolutions of the Council. Paul
publicly criticized the inconsistent and cowardly behaviour of Peter and
passionately proclaimed his conviction that “man is not justified by the
works of the Law, but by faith in Jesus Christ” (Gal 2:16). Paul did not,
however, succeed in winning over the Judaizers to his opinion; even though
they no longer opposed him directly, they intrigued fanatically against him
and tried to alienate his congregations from him, especially in Galatia.
The second phase of Paul’s missionary work took him into a new field
of activity, comprising principally the provinces of Macedonia, Achaea, and
proconsular Asia. He was now in the very centre of Hellenistic civilization.
The missionaries, who now included the cultivated Silas (instead of
Barnabas) and later Timothy, made their way at first through Cilicia and
Lycaonia — where no doubt they visited the congregations Paul had earlier
founded — to the districts of Asia Minor whose cities offered possibilities
of preaching. The Acts give no precise details of the length of their stay and
the measure of their success; but the congregation to which the letter to
18 G. Klein, “Gal 2 :6-9 und die Geschichte der Jerusalemer Urgemeinde” in ZThK 57
(1960), 275-95; W. Schmithals, Paulus und Jakobus (Gottingen 1963).
102
THE APOSTLE PAUL
the Galatians was addressed was probably founded at this time. They
reached the coast in northern Troas, where Paul was called in a nocturnal
vision to go to Macedonia (Acts 16:9). In Philippi the missionaries soon
found adherents, who formed the nucleus of what was later to be a
flourishing community (Acts 16:11-40).14 In Greece, the cities were the
centres of Paul’s activity, which in essentials followed his previous methods.
In Thessalonica, Beroea, Athens and Corinth, the synagogues were the scene
of his preaching; in them he proclaimed Jesus as the Messiah (Acts 17:1-10).
In the first two of these cities congregations were formed which consisted
of Jews and Gentiles. The majority of the Jews there, however, rejected the
message of the Kingdom and bitterly persecuted the missionaries. In Athens
success was small; in Corinth only a few Jews accepted the Gospel (Acts
17:34; 18:8), but many pagans listened to it. Paul therefore stayed eighteen
months in that city, which thus became one of his main centres.
Only after the missionaries had laboured for some time did opposition
arise on the part of the Jews, who accused the apostle before the Roman
proconsul Gallio (Acts 18:12-17). A dated inscription bearing the latter’s
name and containing a message from the emperor Claudius to the city
of Delphi allows us to date fairly accurately Paul’s sojourn at Corinth and
to place it in the years a .d . 51-52 or 52-53.15 Gallio refused to listen to the
Jews’ accusation, and soon afterwards Paul, with the Jewish couple Aquila
and Priscilla, who had greatly promoted his work in Corinth, betook
himself to Ephesus in Asia Minor. There he began no intensive missionary
labours, but shortly after returned to Palestine by sea.
Ephesus was nevertheless soon to become, as Paul no doubt had long
intended, the centre of missionary activity on the west coast of Asia Minor.
This began probably in the summer of 54. Setting out from Antioch, Paul
had visited the Galatian and Phrygian congregations on the way (Acts
18:23). Paul’s work in Ephesus, which lasted about two years, was filled
with successes but also with difficulties and worries which were almost
unavoidable in such a city (Acts 19). His zealous proclamation of the
Gospel soon caused a congregation to grow up which detached itself from
the synagogue; but its members had yet to be weaned from many remarkable
superstitious ideas and customs. Difficulties came not only from the Jews
but also from the pagans, as when Demetrius, owner of a business that made
small silver models of the temple of Diana, saw his profits threatened by
Paul’s preaching and staged a demonstration against the missionaries.
The apostle’s concern for his earlier foundations, especially those at
Corinth and in Galatia, found expression in letters (letter to the Galatians and
first letter to the Corinthians) which were written in Ephesus. About the
14 O. Glombitza, “Der Schritt nach Europa” in ZNW 53 (1962), 77-82.

15 L. Hennequin in DBS, II (1934), 355-73 (with bibliography).
103
autumn of 57 Paul left the city to go to Macedonia and Greece. After a

short stay in Troas he visited Corinth again for a few months; here
originated his letter to the Christian community of Rome, still personally
unknown to him. In this he announced his intention of coming himself to
the imperial capital before going to work in Spain (Rom 15:24 29). For
the return journey to Jerusalem, Paul chose first the land route through
Macedonia, where he celebrated the Pasch with his congregation in Philippi.
Then he sailed to Troas and afterwards to Miletus, whither he had
summoned the elders of the Ephesian congregation (Acts 20:1-17). In spite
of his own dark forebodings, he felt obliged to return soon to Jerusalem,
to hand over the money he had collected for the poor of the congregation
there. After taking a sorrowful farewell of the elders of Ephesus, he travelled
on with his companions through Tyre, Ptolemais, and Caesarea, visiting
the Christians in each place and reaching Jerusalem about the time of
Pentecost (Acts 21:1-17).
In Jerusalem Paul’s missionary work, in the form it had hitherto taken,
came to an end. On a visit to the Temple he was recognized by some
Diaspora Jews from Asia Minor. These tried to cause his death at the hands
of the people. The Roman guard, however, took him into protective custody,
and their commander sent him to the governor at Caesarea (Acts
21:27-23:35). From there a military escort took him to Rome, because
Paul, to avoid a trial before the Jewish Sanhedrin, had appealed to the
Emperor, so that the case had to be heard in the capital (Acts 27-28). As
the lenient conditions of his custody permitted intercourse with the outside
world, he resumed his missionary work in the only form possible; he
addressed himself to the representatives of the Jewish community of Rome,
“testifying to the kingdom of God and trying to convince them about
Jesus. . . And some were convinced by what he said, while others disbelieved”
(Acts 28:23 f.). With the statement that “this salvation of God has been
sent to the Gentiles; they will listen” (Acts 28:28), Luke concludes the last
Pauline sermon in his book. And with it, too, the author’s task is accom
plished, namely to describe how the Gospel made its way from Jerusalem to
the capital of the Roman Empire.
The Acts of the Apostles are silent about the subsequent events of Paul’s
life. There is much evidence that the trial ended with an acquittal and that
he afterwards carried out his planned journey to Spain16 and also visited the
Hellenistic East once more. This hyphothesis alone can explain the pastoral
letters which tell of events and situations that can only be fitted into such a
final period of his life.17 On this last missionary journey Paul was specially
16 This is suggested by 1 Clem 5:7. See E. Dubowy, Klemens von Rom iiber die Reise
Pauli nach Spanien (Munster 1914).
17 On the question of authenticity, cf. C. Spicq, Les epitres pastorales (Paris 1947),
104
THE STRUCTURE OF THE PAULINE CONGREGATIONS
concerned with giving directions for the organization of his congregations

and with warning them against the menace of false doctrines. A second
imprisonment at Rome led to his martyrdom, which took place in the reign
of Nero, even though it cannot with certainty be attributed to the actual
Neronian persecution.
Organization of the Pauline Congregations

Every attempt to provide from historical sources an answer to the question
of the organization or “constitution” of the Pauline congregations must
reckon with the peculiar nature of those sources, which makes it impossible
to give a picture that conveys all the facts. N ot a single piece of writing
originating in one of those congregations offers a description of its daily life
or a clue to its organization. The Acts fail to give such a description,
preferring to keep to their central theme, the route followed by Paul on
his missionary journeys. The letters discuss matters of organization only
on given occasions and therefore afford only casual indications, never
principles or a complete system. Nevertheless, even these occasional
utterances make it quite clear that an organization existed which regulated
and established the congregations’ religious life. It is indeed a special kind
of organization, not to be compared, for instance, with the rules of a secular
body, which are purely the work of man, based on human counsel and human
judgment and therefore subject to alteration. But the organization of which
we speak rests on a supernatural foundation, the same as that on which
the Church herself is based, her Lord, who guides his Church through his
Holy Spirit. The same Spirit which caused the young Church to grow (Acts
2:47; 6:7), directed Paul’s missionary travels (Acts 16:9; 19:21) and
crowned his work with success (Acts 19:11; 1 Cor 2:3 ff.; Rom 15:17ff.),
also created this organization for the life of the community (1 Cor 3 :9 ff;
2 Cor 12:19; Eph 4:12-16).18 When, therefore, members of the community
were appointed to special tasks in the service of that organization, they were
called by the Holy Spirit, whose organs they were (1 Cor 12:4 f.). Those
who were called thus knew themselves to be in the service of the Lord and
fulfilled their tasks in and for the community in a spirit of love such as Jesus
had required from his disciples (Mark 10:42-45). So this organization was
willingly accepted by the congregation and not felt to be in opposition to
the free working of the Spirit in those charismatically gifted, for it was the
same Spirit who called all.
introduction; H. Schlier, Festschrift Gogarten (Giessen 1948), 36-60; A. Wikenhauser,

New Testament Introduction (Freiburg-New York-London, 3rd ed. 1963), 445-52.
18 Cf. O. Michel in ThW V, 142—5; J. Pfammater, Die Kirche als Ban. 7.ur Ekklesiologie
der Paulusbriefe (Rome 1960); K. H. Schelkle, “Kirche als Elite und Elite in der Kirche
nach dem Neuen Testament” in ThQ 142 (1962), 257-82.
105
In the organization of the congregations their founder Paul occupied

a unique place, ultimately based upon his direct vocation to be the Apostle
of the Gentiles. He, indeed, felt himself to be the least of the servants of
Jesus Christ and as such due to suffer every tribulation and humiliation
(1 Cor 4:9-13; 2 Cor 6:4-10; Phil 2:17). But he was likewise fully persuaded
that his office gave him full power and the authority he required for the
“edification” or building up of his congregations (2 Cor 10:8; 13:10; 1 Cor
4:21). Conscious of this, he made decisions binding on them, as for instance
when he cast out the incestuous adulterer from the congregation at Corinth
(1 Cor 5:3 ff.), or gave directions for the worship of God (1 Cor 7:17;
Tit 1:5) or for the moral behaviour of the faithful (1 Thess 4:11). Paul was,
then, for all his congregations not only the highest teaching authority but
also the chief judge and lawgiver, the apex of an hierarchical order.
In the individual congregations, other men were called to be members of
this hierarchical order, particular tasks being assigned to them, care for the
poor and the conducting of religious worship. For the exercise of their
functions they had a right to give directions, to which the faithful according
to Paul’s explicit order had to submit (1 Cor 16:15 f.; 1 Thess 5:12; Rom
12:6 ff.). Paul stood behind these office-holders with his authority, their
powers being similar but subordinate to and limited by his. Those entrusted
with such duties were called (Acts 14:23) 7rpea(3uTepoi, presbyters or elders,
whom Paul ordained with laying on of hands and prayer during his first
missionary journey in Lystra, Iconium and Pisidian Antioch, before he left
those cities to continue on his travels. One may assume that the elders of the
congregation of Ephesus were called in a similar way; to them Paul said
that the Holy Spirit had appointed them overseers (emcrxo7co0 to rule
the Church of God as shepherds their sheep. Here it is obvious that the terms
“presbyters” and “episcops” indicate the same group of persons, that the
two expressions could be used for holders of the same office. A t the
beginning of the letter to the Philippians “deacons” are mentioned alongside
“episcops” as having special duties in the congregation. The later pastoral
letters make it clear that the sphere of activity allotted to them was
distinct from that of the “presbyters” and “episcops” (1 Tim 1:1-10; 5:17
19; Tit 1:5-11). That the pastoral letters should give a clearer picture of the
circumstances is due to the quite understandable development which brought
the functions of those who had received ordination into greater prominence
as the number of the faithful increased.19 From the nature of things it is
obvious that the office-holders were attached to local congregations;
overseer-elders and deacons did not, like Paul and his closest collaborators,
19 H. Schlier, “Die Ordnung der Kirche nach den Pastoralbriefen” in Die Zeit der
Kirche (Freiburg i. Br., 3rd ed. 1962), 129-47; H. W. Bartsch, Die Anftinge urchristlicher
Kirchenordnung in den Pastoralbriefen (1963).
1 06
travel from city to city and province to province, but fulfilled their tasks
within the framework of a particular congregation, from which of course
further missionary activity might be carried on in the immediate vicinity.
Their vocation can only be understood as a permanent one, if the work
begun by Paul in each place was to endure; Paul knew himself to be called,
like the other apostles, to continue the work of Jesus of Nazareth and to
prepare the community of the final age. In this task those who by God’s
will occupied the lower rungs of the hierarchical ladder had to play their
appointed part.
Besides the holders of authority, there were in the Pauline congregations
the charismatically gifted, whose function was essentially different.20 Their
gifts, above all prophecy and the gift of tongues (glossolaly), came direct
from the Holy Spirit, who imparted them to each as he wished; they were
not therefore attached permanently to particular persons and were not
necessary for the existence of the community. The charismatics appeared
when the faithful assembled for worship, and, by their prophetic utterances
and stirring prayer of thanksgiving, kept alive the lofty enthusiasm of the
new faith; they were not guardians and guarantors of order. Here and
there, indeed, order was endangered because of them, since the extraordinary
and mysterious nature of their performances led many members of the
congregation to overestimate their gifts — a danger against which Paul had
to issue an admonition (1 Cor 14).
Finally, it was an essential feature of the structure of the congregations
established by Paul that they did not regard themselves as independent
communities which could go their own individual religious way. There was
of course already a certain bond between them in the person of their founder
who, even after his departure, remained for them the highest teaching and
guiding authority. Paul had, besides, implanted in them a strong conscious
ness that they were closely linked with the community of Jerusalem, whence
had gone forth the tidings of the Messiah and of the salvation wrought by
him. To this connexion was due their charitable assistance to the poor of
Jerusalem; Paul, in his letter to the Galatians, emphasized the duty of
caring for “those who are of the household of faith” (Gal 6:10). By
preaching unwearyingly that Christians of all congregations served one
Lord (1 Cor 8:6), that they were members of one body (1 Cor 12:27), he
kept alive the consciousness that all the baptized were “the Israel of God”
(Gal 6:16), the Church of both Jews and Gentiles (Eph 2:13-17).21 From
20 See J. Brosch, Charismen und Amter in der Urkirche (Bonn 1951) and the commentaries
on 1 Cor 12 and 14, e. g. E. B. Alio (Paris 1934), 317—86.
21 Cf. E. Peterson, Die Kirche aus Juden und Heiden (Salzburg 1933), and the commentary
on Ephesians by H. Schlier (Dusseldorf, 2nd ed. 1959); idem, Zeit der Kirche (Frei
burg i. Br., 3rd ed. 1962), 159-86, 287-307.
107
the point of view of Church history, it was one of the greatest achievements
of the Apostle of the Gentiles that this consciousness of being one Church
which he awakened and encouraged in his congregations made possible the
spread of Christianity in the pagan world. Otherwise the believers in Christ
might have split into two separate communities, one of Jewish and one of
pagan origin, so that, even by the end of the apostolic age two Christian
“denominations” might have come into being.22
Religious Life in the Pauline Congregations

The religious life of the Pauline congregations was centred on belief in the
risen Lord, which gave a decisive character both to its worship and to its
everyday life. This was in accordance with the preaching of Paul, in the
centre of which Christ stands and must stand; for this reason he could
endure that during his imprisonment others should seek to supplant him,
“only that in every way . . . Christ is proclaimed” (Phil 1:18). The message
of Christ, Paul leaves us in no doubt, must be accepted with real faith:
because “if you confess with your lips that Jesus is Lord and believe in your
heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved” (Rom 10:9).
This belief in the Kyrios, the Lord raised up and glorified after the
humiliation of the Cross (cf. Phil 2 5:11),23 included the conviction that in
him dwelt the fullness of deity (Col 2:9f.), that he therefore as Son of God
possessed the divine nature together with the Father and was himself “the
power and the wisdom of God” (1 Cor 1:24).
Admission to the community of the faithful was to be gained by baptism,
which for Paul, as for the original apostles, represented no mere external
act of worship but made effective the death of Jesus, which he underwent
for our sins (1 Cor 15:3). In his preaching, Paul was above all at pains to
bring his hearers to the knowledge that baptism stands in a real relationship
to Christ’s death on the cross and to his resurrection. Only because the
Christian is buried with Christ and so lets his former self (“the old man”)
die, does he, like Christ, rise from the dead to new life (Rom 6:2-8); through
baptism and only through baptism can he win a share in salvation.24 The
profound conviction of the Pauline congregations that by baptism they
were not only symbolically but in reality “born again” 25 to a new life, that
22 R. Schnackenburg, Die Kirche im Neuen Testament (Freiburg i. Br. 1961), 71-77, Eng.
tr. The Church in the New Testament (Freiburg-New York-London 1965).
28 M. Meinertz, “Zum Verstandnis des Christushymnus Phil 2:5-11” in TThZ 61 (1952),
186-92 and G. Strecker in ZNW 55 (1964), 63-78.
24 R. Schnackenburg, Das Heilsgeschehen bei der Taufe nach dem Apostel Paulus (Munich
1950); E. Klaar, Die Taufe nach paulinischem Verstandnis (Munich 1961). H. Schlier, Zeit
der Kirche 47-56, 107-29.
25 Cf. J. Dey, Palingenesia (Munster 1937).
108
would one day become one life with Christ’s, gave this sacrament its
pre-eminent rank in the religion of Pauline Christianity.
The worship of the congregations fitted into the larger framework of the
assemblies at which the faithful regularly met together “on the first day of
the week” (Acts 20:7). Even though no religious reason for the choice of this
day and its preference over the other days of the week had been adduced,
the giving up of the Sabbath clearly marked the beginning of a break with
Jewish religion. Well-to-do members of the congregation placed their
private houses at the disposal of the faithful for their communal act of
worship (1 Cor 16-19; Rom 16:4; Col 4:15). Songs of praise, hymns and
psalms introduced the celebration; these were to thank the Father for all
things in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ (Eph 5:18ff.; Col 3:16).
The central point and climax of the service was the eucharistic celebration,
the Lord’s Supper.26 Details of the way it was conducted are hardly to be
found in Paul’s writings. It was associated with a meal, no doubt intended
to strengthen the solidarity of the faithful, but at which social distinctions
among members were sometimes too much in evidence (1 Cor 11:17-27).
Even more evident, however, is Paul’s striving to convey a deeper
theological understanding of the eucharistic act. The “breaking of bread”
is unequivocally represented as a real participation in the body and blood
of the Lord; this sacrifice is incomparably greater than those of the Old Law
and quite different from those of the pagans: “The cup of blessing which
we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ? The bread which
we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ? . . . You cannot
partake of the table of the Lord and of the table of demons” (1 Cor 10:16
21). Because the blood and body of the Lord are truly received in wine and
bread, whoever partakes unworthily of this fraternal eating and drinking
makes himself guilty of betraying the Lord (1 Cor 11:27). Participation in
this meal confirmed to the believer again and again his direct bond with
the heavenly Lord. Therefore the congregation was filled with joy and
thanks (Eph 5:20); it was a pledge of that final community with him which
his second coming would bring about. Longing for this final consummation
was expressed in the cry of the congregation at the eucharistic meal:
“Marana-tha — Come, Lord Jesus!” (1 Cor 16:22; Apoc 22:30).27 For the
Pauline congregation the eucharistic celebration was the source which
nourished and constantly reaffirmed its inner unity; as all its members had
a share in the same bread, which was the body of Christ, all of them formed
one body, the community of God (1 Cor 10:17). This sacramentally based28
28 P. Neuenzeit, Das Herrenmahl. Studien zur paulinischen Euchartstieauffassung (Munich

1960).
27 K. G. Kuhn in ThW IV, 470-5; O. Cullmann, Christologie des Neuen Testaments
(Tubingen 1958), 214-22, Eng. tr. The Christology of the New Testament (London 1959).
109
unity must however show itself in self-sacrificing regard for all, that the
kiss of brotherhood given in the assembly (1 Cor 16:20) might not be mean
ingless.
The assembly of the congregation was also the place where “salvation
was preached” ; for not only was it the task of the travelling missionaries to
proclaim the Gospel (Acts 20:7-11; Cor 1:17; 9:16f.), the congregation
must continue to hear from its permanently appointed preacher “the message
of reconciliation” with God (2 Cor 5:18-21). The sermon was an
instruction in the apostles’ doctrine of the crucified and risen Saviour; it
referred to the passages in Scripture dealing with salvation and derived
from them belief in Christ. In doing so, it stressed the duty of the faithful to
praise the Father, to await with courage and good cheer the coming of the
Lord and to serve one another in brotherly love (Acts 14:22; 1 Thess 2:2-12;
2 Cor 6:1-2; Phil 2:1-11). Preaching, as the proclamation of the Word,
had therefore its assured place in the Pauline congregation and was of
prime importance. Finally in the worship of the congregation the speeches
of the “prophets” also had a part; they were confirmed by the “Amen” of
the assembly (1 Cor 14:16).
The realization of the new religious ideal in everyday life faced the
Gentile Christian communities of Paul’s missionary field with no
inconsiderable difficulties. The surrounding pagan world, with its customs,
deep-rooted in family and business life and often utterly opposed to the
demands of Christian morality, demanded of them a far greater effort at
good conduct and self-discipline than was required of the original community
at Jerusalem, whom monotheism and the Jewish moral law had raised
to a considerably higher level. Paul’s preaching incessantly emphasizes, not
without grounds, the sharp contrast which Christianity had set up between
Christ and Belial, light and darkness, spirit and flesh, between the “old man”
of sin and the “new man” of freedom and truth. That there were in
individual congregations members who failed to live up to this high ideal
may be inferred from the apostle’s unwearying admonitions, even though
such glaring examples as that of the incestuous adulterer of Corinth may
have been exceptional (1 Cor 5:1 9-13). Frequent references to the spirit
of unity and peace among the brethren indicate offences against the
commandment of brotherly love (1 Cor 1:10; Eph 4:2f.; 1 Thess 5:13).
As is usually so in such cases, the lapses stand out more than the faithful
observance of the moral law. In many congregations no doubt the light
prevailed over the shadows. When the apostle could say of the Christians
in Philippi and Thessalonica that they were his “joy and crown” (Phil 4:1;
1 Thess 2:19), such unreserved praise was assuredly to be highly valued.
Those Christians were numerous whose help and selfless labours in the
service of the saints Paul could remember with gratitude.
The strongest proof of the moral strength which the Gospel had
110
developed in the Pauline mission field is to be seen in the continuance of his

congregations in post-apostolic times and later. The seed that he had sown
in his sermons about the power of God’s grace and the happiness of being
children of God in a pagan world, had sprung up marvellously. At the
apostle’s death the Hellenistic world was covered with a network of
Christian cells, the viability of which ensured the further expansion of the
Christian faith in the time to follow.
C h a p t e r 6
Peter's Missionary Activity and his Sojourn and Death in Rome
Extra-Pauline Gentile Christianity

C o m p a r e d with Paul’s mission, which both in extent and depth was the
most successful, the work of the other apostles who were active in the
eastern or western parts of the empire is much less easy to follow. Paul
himself is witness to the existence of such activity when he asserts that he
made a point of not preaching the Gospel where the name of Christ was
already known: he would not, as he says, “build on another man’s
foundation” (Rom 15:19-20). The existence of Gentile-Christian com
munities, whose origin was due to other missionaries, was therefore
known to him; but he does not mention the names of the cities and
provinces in which such communities had developed. The Acts of the
Apostles refer only casually to extra-Pauline missions, as when it is stated
that Barnabas, after his departure from Paul, travelled to Cyprus (Acts
15:40), clearly in order to do missionary work there. In another passage,
the existence of a Christian congregation on Italian soil at Puteoli, near
Naples, is taken for granted, when the Acts relate that Paul on his way to
Rome met “brethren” at the port there who invited him to stay with them
(Acts 28:14). Similarly, members of the Roman congregation came to meet
him, being already informed of his arrival (Acts 18:15). The name of a
Roman missionary is not mentioned. A reference to extra-Pauline mission
fields may be found also in the opening of Peter’s first letter, which is
addressed to the Christians of Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and
Bithynia. If, as is probable, the Roman provinces of the East are here meant,
three are named that did not actually belong to the area covered by the
Apostle of the Gentiles: Pontus, Cappadocia, and Bithynia. As the Acts
(2:9 ff.) number Jews from Cappadocia and Pontus among those present
at the first Christian Pentecost at Jerusalem, these may well be regarded as
the earliest missionaries in those regions. That the new adherents of the
111
Christian faith in these provinces had formerly been pagans is quite clear
from many passages in the First Epistle of Peter.28
The fragmentary nature of our sources for the history of early Christi
anity is especially apparent when one inquires about the labours or even
the lives of the other apostles (with the exception of Peter, John, and James
the Younger). It might be expected that their missionary activities would
have been confined mainly to Palestine and the surrounding areas, but all
the reliable sources are silent. Only in the second and third centuries did
the so-called apocryphal “Acts of the Apostles” seek to fill these gaps,29
giving more or less detailed accounts of the lives and deaths of several
apostles. From a literary point of view these writings are related to the
ancient novels and travel-books, the heroes of which are portrayed
according to the models of profane aretology.30
In so far as they proceed from heretical, Gnostic circles, they were
intended to procure increased respect for the doctrines of that sect by the
use of a revered name. The apocryphal acts of non-heretical provenance or
rewritten in orthodox versions rely upon the strong interest shown by
the common people in picturesque detail from the lives of great figures
of the Christian past, and to this they owed their success. Their value as
sources lies in the glimpses they give of the world of religious ideas
in the age that produced them; their information about the missionary
activity and manner of death of the apostles, or about the places where
they laboured, is quite incapable of being checked.31 At the most it is
conceivable that what these works relate of the countries or provinces where
the apostles are said to have preached may be based upon genuine traditions;
for curiously enough the mission field of the apostle Paul is hardly ever
included. The persons named in the apocryphal acts as companions or
assistants of the apostles can certainly be regarded as imaginary. Only for
three leading members of the apostolic college, James, Peter and John,
have we reliable sources of information which make it possible for us to
know some facts about their activities. The last two will now be dealt
with in more detail.
Sojourn and Death of the Apostle Peter in Rome

The Acts of the Apostles conclude their account of Peter’s activity in the
primitive Church of Jerusalem with the mysterious words: “Fie went to
28 Cf. K. H. Schelkle, Die Petrusbriefe. Der Judasbrief. Herders theologischer Kommentar

zum Neuen Testament (Freiburg-Basle-Vienna 1961), 2.
29 See the account (with bibliography) in Quasten P, I 128-43 and Altaner 72-79; J. Michl
in LThK I, 747-54.
30 L.Hertling, “Literarisches zu den apokryphen Apostelakten” in ZKTh 49 (1925), 219—43.
31 E. v. d. Goltz, “Apostelgeschichten als Geschichtsquellen” in Harnack-Ehrung (Leipzig
1921), 149-58.
112
p e t e r ’s s o j o u r n a n d death in rome
another place” (Acts 12:17). The motive for his departure is not known,
nor is it apparent where he intended to go. The attempt to see in this vague
form of expression a reliable piece of evidence for the apostle’s early
death32 is as misleading as the thesis that Paul, in the Epistle to the
Galatians, (2:6-19) bears incontrovertible witness that Peter was already
dead when the chapter was written.33 The tradition of Peter’s sojourn at
Rome and his martyrdom there is too strong to be brushed aside by such
weakly grounded hypotheses. The route he followed to Rome, the time of
his arrival in the imperial capital and the length of his stay (with inter
ruptions perhaps) are matters on which no definite statement is possible. It
is certain that Peter was present at the Council of Jerusalem, which must
have taken place about the middle of the century, and that shortly after
words he was staying at Antioch (Acts 15:7; Gal 2:11-14).
The basis of the Roman tradition concerning Peter is formed by three
pieces of evidence, chronologically close to one another and forming together
a statement so positive as practically to amount to historical certainty.
The first is of Roman origin and is to be found in a letter written to Corinth
by Clement in the name of his congregation. Therein he refers to cases in
the recent past in which Christians had suffered ill-treatment and death
“because of intrigues”. Among them Peter and Paul stand out: “Peter,
who because of unjust envy suffered tribulations not once or twice but
many times, and thus became a witness and passed on to the place of glory
which was his due.” 34 With him a great number died a m artyr’s
death, among them female Christians, who were executed dressed up as
Dana'fdes and Dirces. This points to the persecution of the Christians under
Nero, to be described later,35 and permits us to connect Peter’s death with
it and to date the latter event about the middle of the sixties. Clement says
nothing of the manner and place of Peter’s martyrdom; his omission of such
details clearly presupposes in his readers a knowledge of the events; to
himself they were no doubt known at first hand, having taken place in the
city where he dwelt and within his own time.
The essential part of this evidence occurs again in a letter from the East
addressed, about twenty years later, to the Roman congregation. The bishop
of the Gentile Christian community that possessed the most traditions and
which was most likely to be informed about the careers of the two leading
82 Thus D. F. Robinson in JBL 64 (1945), 255-67, and W. M. Schmaltz in JBL 71 (1952),

211-16.
88 Especially K. Heussi, Die romische Petrustradition in kritischer Sicht (Tubingen 1955),
1-10: H. Katzmann also favours 55 as the year of Peter’s death, IKZ 29 (1939), 85-93.
Against such early estimates see esp. O. Cullmann, Petrus, ] unger-Apostel-Mdrtyrer,
(Zurich, 2nd ed. I960), 35f., Eng. tr. Peter, Disciple-Apostle-Martyr (London 1953), and
K. Aland, Kirchengeschichtliche Entwiirfe (Gutersloh 1960), 49-54.
84 1 Clem 5:1-4; 6:1-2.
85 See below, chapter 8.
113
apostles, Ignatius of Antioch, begs the Christians of Rome not to rob him of
the martyr’s crown he expected to receive there, by interceding with the
pagan authorities. He qualifies his request with the respectful words: “I do
not command you as Peter and Paul did.” 30 These two, therefore, stood
in a special relationship to the Roman congregation, which had given them
a position of authority; that is, they had stayed there for a lengthy period
as active members of the community, not temporarily as chance visitors.
The weight of this evidence lies in the fact that the knowledge of the
Roman congregation about the sojourn of Peter in their midst is unequiv
ocally confirmed by a statement emanating from the distant Christian
East.
The third document may be placed alongside Ignatius’ letter. Its value
as evidence for Peter’s residence and martyrdom at Rome has only recently
been emphasized.37 The Ascensio Isaiae (4:2-3), which in its Christian
version dates from about the year 100,38says, in the style of prophecy, that
the community founded by the twelve apostles will be persecuted by Belial,
the murderer of his mother [Nero], and that one of the Twelve will be
delivered into his hands. This prophetic statement is illuminated by a
fragment of the “Apocalypse of Peter”, which can also be ascribed to
the beginning of the second century. Here it says: “See, Peter, to thee have
I revealed and explained all things. Go then into the city of fornication
and drink the chalice that I have foretold to thee.39
This combined text, with its knowledge of Peter’s martyrdom at Rome
under Nero, confirms and underlines the reliability of the Roman tradition
considerably. To these three basic statements two further references can be
added which complete the picture given by the tradition. The author of the
last chapter of John’s Gospel clearly alludes to Peter’s death as a martyr
and obviously knows of his execution upon the cross (Jn 21:18-19), but is
silent about the place of his martyrdom. On the other hand, Rome is
indicated as his place of abode in the final verses of the first epistle of
Peter, which is stated to have been written at “Babylon” ; this is most
probably to be understood as meaning Rome, which corresponds to the
equation of Babylon with Rome in the Apocalypse (14:8; 16If.) and in
Jewish apocalyptic and rabbinical literature.40
The tradition of Peter’s residence at Rome continued unchallenged
through the second century and was further confirmed by evidence from
88 Ignatius, Rom. 4, 3.
87 Cf. E. Peterson, “Das Martyrium des hi. Petrus nach der Petrusapokalypse” in Afhc',t-
lanea Belvederi (Rome 1954-5), 181-5, reprinted in Friihkirche, Judentum und Gnosis
(Freiburg i. Br. 1959), 88-91, where the texts are also given.
88 E. Peterson in ByZ 47 (1954), 70 f.
89 Greek text in JTbS 32 (1931), 270.
40 Cf. K. H. Schelkle, op. cit. 135.
114
p e t e r ’s s o j o u r n a n d d e a t h in rome
the most distant regions in which Christianity had been established, for
instance by Bishop Dionysius of Corinth41 in the East, by Irenaeus of
Lyons42 in the West, by Tertullian43 in Africa. Even more important is
the fact that this tradition was neither claimed for itself by any other
Christian community nor opposed nor doubted by any contemporary voice.
This almost amazing lack of any rival tradition is without doubt to be
regarded as a deciding factor in the critical examination of the Roman
tradition.44
The Tomb of Peter
However positive the answer to the question of Peter’s last residence and
place of death may sound, the situation becomes surprisingly complicated
when our inquiry has to do with the place of his burial and with the form
it took. Here the literary evidence is joined by the weightier testimony
of archaeological discovery. Both the excavations and the examination of
the literary sources make it clear that in Rome itself the tradition concerning
the location of Peter’s tomb became divided in course of time. That the
Vatican hill was the place of Peter’s execution, as is implied by Tacitus’
account45 of Nero’s persecution read in conjunction with Clement’s first
epistle, is confirmed and amplified by the testimony of Gaius, an educated
and active member of the Roman congregation under Bishop Zephyrinus
(199-217). Gaius was involved in a controversy with the leader of the Mon-
tanists in Rome, Proclus, which was concerned with proving the possession
of apostolic graves as evidence for the authenticity of apostolic traditions.
Just as, earlier, Bishop Polycrates of Ephesus46 had asserted, in discussing
the question of the date of Easter, that the tombs of apostles and bishops
in Asia Minor guaranteed indisputably the eastern custom, so Proclus
argued that the graves of the apostle Philip and his charismatically gifted
daughters in Hierapolis proved the truth of Montanist opinions. Gaius
outdid his opponent with the counter-argument: “But I can show you the
tropaia of the apostles; for if you will go to the Vatican or on the road
to Ostia, there you will find the triumphal tombs of those who founded this
congregation.” 47 So about the year 200 the conviction was held at Rome
that Peter’s tomb was on the Vatican hill; Gaius gives no indication that
this conviction was not shared by the whole Roman community.
41 Euseb. HE 2, 25, 8.
42 Irenaeus, Adv. haer. 3,1-3.
43 Tertullian, Praescr. haer. 36, 3.
44 Thus, following H. Lietzmannn, Petrus und Paulus in Rom (Berlin, 2nd ed. 1927),
T. Klauser, Die romische Petrustradition im Lichte der neuen Ausgrabungen unter der
Peterskirche (Cologne-Opladen 1956), 16.
45 Tacitus, Annal. 15, 44, 5.
46 Euseb. HE 5, 1-8.
47 Ibid, 2, 25, 7. See T. Klauser, op. cit. 20 f.
115
As opposed to this, an entry in the Roman liturgical calendar of 354,

supplemented by the so-called Martyrologium Hieronymianum (after 431),
states that in 258, on June 29th, the memory of Peter was celebrated at
the Vatican, that of Paul on the road to Ostia, and of both in catacumbas;
there was therefore about the year 260 a shrine of the two princes of the
apostles on the Via Appia under the basilica later known as St Sebastian’s,
which in the fourth century was still called ecclesia apostolorum , 48 An
epitaph composed by Pope Damasus says that the two apostles had once
"dwelt” there, which probably means that their bodies had once been
buried there.49 Excavations in 1917 proved the existence of such a shrine
about the year 260, in which both apostles were honoured by refrigeria,
memorial services, as the numerous graffiti on the walls testify. In these,
visitors to the shrine invoke the intercession of the two apostles.50
Although the excavations brought to light no grave which could be
regarded as the burial-place of the apostles, certain of the graffiti force
us to the conclusion that the Christian visitors were convinced that here
were the tombs of Peter and Paul. The discovery gave rise to a number
of hypotheses, of which none has as yet decisively prevailed. Whereas the
excavators maintained the view that the actual burial-place of both apostles
was on the Via Appia, their bodies having been translated to Constantine’s
basilicas only after these were built,51 others held that the relics had been
brought to St Sebastian’s for safety during Valerian’s persecution and had
remained there until their translation to the new basilicas.52 A third opinion
denies the possibility of such a translation to the Appian Way, in view
of the Roman burial laws which strictly forbade the opening of graves;
a substitute shrine may well have been set up here when the persecution
of Valerian made visits to the real tombs impossible.53 Or again, there may
have been on the Appian Way a centre of veneration of the apostles
belonging to some schismatic group, perhaps the Novatians,54 who living
in Rome itself, could not desist from such veneration.
Finally, it is said that the existence of two places in which the tomb of
Peter was supposed to be proves that the Roman congregation in the third
48 J. P. Kirsch, Der stadtromische christliche Festkalender (Munster 1924), 20 ff.

49 A. Ferrua, Epigrammata Damasiana (Rome 1942), 142.
50 A. von Gerkan in H. Lietzmann, op. cit. 248-301; most recently in F. Tolotti, Memorie
degli apostoli in Catacumbas (Vatican City 1953).
51 P. Styger, Romische Martyrergrufte (Berlin 1935), 48.
52 H. Lietzmann, op. cit. 122; E. Kirschbaum, Die Grdber der Apostelfiirsten (Frankfurt,
2nd ed. 1959), 202 f., Eng. tr. The Tombs of SS. Peter and Paul (New York 1959);
A. v. Gerkan, Bonner Jahrbiicher 158 (1958), 99.
83 Esp. Delehaye OC 267 f.
84 C. Mohlberg, “Historisch-kritische Bemerkungen zum Ursprung der sogenannten
memoria apostolorum an der Appischen Strafle” in Colligere Fragmenta, Festschrift
A. Dold (Beuron 1952), 52-74.
116
p e t e r ’s s o j o u r n a n d death in rome
century no longer possessed any certain knowledge of the actual burial-place

of the apostles; one group, represented by Gaius, thought Peter’s grave
was under the tropaion on the Vatican hill, another was convinced that
it was on the Via Appia. The leaders of the congregation had to tolerate
this double tradition till after the time of Constantine, for he himself
erected basilicas in both places — on the Vatican hill that of Peter and
on the Appian Way the ecclesia apostolorum, which only later received
the title of St Sebastian’s.55*The date of June 29th given in the Calendar
is usually linked with an early liturgical celebration on the Appian Way.
The highly important excavations of 1940-9 under the Petrine basilica66
led first to the discovery of a vast necropolis reached by a street of tombs
ascending to the west, from which one arrived at numerous mausolea,
many of them richly adorned. Among them there is one that is purely
Christian, possessing very ancient mosaics which include a representation
of Christ-Helios, a very valuable piece of early Christian iconography.57
The mausolea were built in the period 130-200; but as the necropolis was
only part of a larger cemetery, it is probable that graves were made there,
especially towards the east, at an earlier date.
The ground immediately below and in front of the confessio of St Peter,
where one might have expected to find evidence of Gaius’ tropaion, proved
to be a cemetery, unroofed before the building of Constantine’s basilica and
measuring approximately 7 X 4 metres (called P by the excavators), bounded
on the west by a red wall erected about the year 160. In the east side of
this wall there is a double niche (whether contemporary or later is uncertain),
flanked by two small projecting columns, of which one was found in situ.
It is not difficult to recognize this as an aedicula or tomb, not exceptionally
ornate, which was regarded by the builders of Constantine’s basilica as the
monument in relation to which the new church, in spite of all the work
involved — such as filling in the mausolea and difficulties caused by the
ground level — had to be orientated. We are compelled to assume that
they regarded the aedicula, built probably about 160, as the tropaion of
Gaius with the tomb of Peter beneath.
In front of the lower niche a flat stone covered a space about 60 cm
square, but set at an angle (approximately 11° less than a right angle)
to the red wall. In the earth beneath this there were no actual remains of a
grave, such as tiles; but there was here also a niche let into the lower edge
of the red wall in which lay a little heap of bones from the skeleton of
an elderly man. It is noteworthy that around this asymmetrically placed
square four later graves (y?7)?^1) were so arranged that they would not
encroach upon it; one of them (&) can be dated by a tile as being of the
55 T. Klauser, op. cit. 73-75.

58 The factual details are taken mainly from E. Kirschbaum, op. cit.
67 See also O. Perler, Die Mosaiken der Juliergruft im Vatikan (Freiburg i. Br. 1953).
117
time of Vespasian. This leads us to presume that an already existing grave

was intentionally left intact. As all the other graves of the area P show only
earth burials, the excavators concluded that it contained none but Christian
graves, although no other indications prove their Christian character. The
carefully preserved square under the stone of the aedicula is, say the
excavators, the place where Peter was buried, and they think that the grave
was shortened when the red wall or the aedicula was built. The absence of
anything that might identify the tomb can be explained by the conditions
of emergency, in which Peter had to be buried; its defective state may be
due to interference either at the time of a possible removal or on some other
occasion of which we can know nothing.
The assumption that Peter’s tomb has been found must of course rest
upon clues, the worth of which as evidence can be variously assessed. Their
power to convince depends on how far they can explain the difficulties
which still remain. Thus it does not appear to be proved that all the graves
around the square under the stone of the tropaion are Christian; in the
case of the child’s grave (y) with its libation vessels, the possibility, in the
second century, seems to be excluded. Moreover, grave ?) does in fact
encroach upon the alleged tomb of Peter, the situation of which would
therefore appear not to have been exactly known when that grave was
made. The “newly opened” tomb is not big enough for the burial of a man,
and the hypotheses necessary to explain the shortening of the original grave
are rather unconvincing. What remains regrettably unexplained is why
the existing bones were not carefully placed in security either when the
aedicula was built, or on the occasion of a translation, or after violation
of the tomb. Finally, since all reliable information about the place of Peter’s
execution and burial is lacking, the possibilities concerning it continue to
remain as so many open questions. The body might have been burnt or
mutilated after execution, or buried in a common grave; or the authorities
might have refused to hand it over to the Christians.
These difficulties taken together have not as yet been satisfactorily
cleared up; they therefore make it impossible for the present to agree with
the opinion that the excavations have with certainty brought to light the
tomb of Peter or its original site. They have, however, led without doubt
to some very important discoveries. The remains of the tropaion of Gaius
have most probably been found; the Christians who had it erected certainly
believed the apostle’s burial-place to be on the Vatican hill. This conviction,
shared by the builders of Constantine’s basilica, excludes the likelihood of
a translation of the bones into the new basilica, for then there would
have been opportunities for reconstructing the tomb and orientating the
new church which would surely not have been missed. In spite of all
hypotheses, the shrine of the apostles on the Appian Way remains a great
riddle, to be the subject of further researches in the future.
118
C hapter 7
The Christianity of the Johannine Writings
T o w a r d s the end of the first century we encounter a group of Christian

writings which tradition early ascribed — not entirely with one voice —
to the apostle John, son of Zebedee and younger brother of James the elder.
In these Johannine writings, which comprise a Gospel, a fairly long
admonitory letter, two short letters and an apocalypse, we see a general
picture of Christianity which unmistakably represents a unique stage in
its development, in many respects more advanced than the primitive Church
of Jerusalem and the Christianity of the Pauline congregations. Here we
must note especially those features which are relevant from the point of
view of Church history, those which emphasize features in the development
of Christian belief and ecclesiastical life that shaped the future history of
Christianity. Two in particular stand out: the image of Christ, which is
projected in the fourth gospel especially, and the image of the Church,
which in the Apocalypse acquires new characteristics.
Even if no generally accepted solution to the question of the authorship
of the Johannine writings has been found — if, in particular, the assump
tion that the Gospel and the Apocalypse in their present form are the
work of the same author involves serious difficulties — nevertheless, they
can be dated to the end of the first century, and it can be stated with a high
degree of probability that they originated among the Christian communities
of the west coast of Asia Minor.58 But there, at that period, the apostle
John was the outstanding figure, so that the scriptures that bear his name
come also from his spirit, even though they may have received their final
form from his disciples.59 The Gospel of John must have existed at the turn
of the century, for Ignatius of Antioch very probably knew it,60 and a
papyrus fragment of a codex written in Egypt about 13061 containing John
18:31 ff. presupposes such a date of origin. Evidence for an approximately
contemporaneous origin for the first letter of John is the use made of it
by Papias62 and the fact that Polycarp of Smyrna quotes it in his letter
to the Philippians (7:1). The Apocalypse, too, must have been written, as
Irenaeus states,63 in the last years of Domitian’s reign, for the letters it
58 Besides the introductions to the N. T. see F.-M. Braun, Jean le theologien (Paris 1959),
301-64.
59 J. Bonsirven, Commentaire de I3Apocalypse (Paris 1951), 69-75.
60 C. Maurer, Ignatius von Antiochien und das Johannesevangelium (Zurich 1949).
81 This is P 52, ed. by C. H. Roberts, An Unpublished Fragment of the Fourth Gospel
(Manchester 1935); see also RB 45 (1936), 269-72.
82 Euseb. HE 3, 39,17.
83 Irenaeus, Adv. haer. 5, 30, 3.
119
contains to Asiatic churches imply a development of ecclesiastical life which

had not taken place before the year 70. Its clear references to a clash
between the Church and the State cult of the emperor, especially in the
thirteenth chapter, are most easily understood if the work received its
final form towards the end of the reign of Domitian.
The purpose which guided John when he wrote his Gospel is thus
expressed by him at the end of the book: “But these [signs] are written,
that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that
believing you may have life in his name” (20:31). If the readers here
addressed were all Christians, the Gospel was intended to confirm and
deepen their faith in the Messiah and the divine sonship of Christ. Indeed,
chapters 13-17 could have been written only for those whose belief in Jesus
as the Messiah and Son of God was subject to no doubt. But we cannot
exclude from the number of the evangelist’s readers or hearers those groups
who disputed or doubted Christ’s claims. The author of the Gospel, writing
in Greek, must have had in mind Jews of the Diaspora who were opposed to
such ideas.64 N ot without asperity does he attack them, since they had
not only denied that Jesus was the Son of God and of divine origin (John
5:18; 8:40-59), but also cast out of their synagogues those who believed in
him (9:22; 12:42).65 H e wished to make clear to them that, with Jesus,
the Jewish Law had lost its validity (2:1-22; 4:21 ff.), that grace and truth
had come into the world with him (1:17), and that the Old Testament
scriptures bore witness that he was the Messiah. In Ephesus itself a group
of Jews was seeking to destroy belief in the true Messiah, because they
considered he had already come in the person of John the Baptist.66 To
these disciples of John the fourth Gospel opposes the testimony of John
himself, when it emphatically quotes him as saying that he was not the
Messiah, nor the Prophet, nor the Light, but only a witness (l:6ff. 20 ff.),
only the friend of the bridegroom (3:28ff.), only he who pointed to the
Lamb who takes away the sins of the world (1:29).
The evangelist seeks to impart to his readers, believers as well as Jews,
an understanding of Christ unique in its depth and grandeur, when he
proclaims him as the Logos who has existed from all eternity, being himself
divine, and who, when he took flesh, came into this world out of his pre
existence. This is the content of that majestic exordium of the Gospel which
serves as a prologue. There is much to support the view that the evangelist
was here making use of an already extant hymn to the Logos. It was not,
however, the hymn of a Gnostic group in praise of John the Baptist, for
John’s disciples never worshipped him as the Logos. It may have originated
84 Cf. esp. W. C. van Unnik in Studia Evangelica (Berlin 1959), 406-10.

65 See K. L. Caroll in BJRL 40 (1957), 334-49.
89 R. Schnackenburg in H ] 77 (1958), 24 f.
120
THE JOHANNINE WRITINGS
in a Christian congregation of Asia Minor.67 The idea of the Logos had

already found there its inalterable and specifically Christian character,
which the prologue endeavours to protect from misunderstanding by the
insertion of certain phrases. However widespread the Logos-idea then was
in different circles — it was known even to early Greek philosophers, to
Philo, for whom the Logos was a middle being between God and the world,
and to the Gnostics, for whom he was a redeemer, while Jewish wisdom
speculation moved in a world of ideas related to that of the Logos — the
very attributes given to the Logos by John — divine essence, personal
subsistence and the Incarnation based thereon — are lacking in previous
conceptions of it. The specifically Christian achievement consists in having
taken over an idea already existing in many variations and in having
given it an unmistakably Christian stamp.
The author of the prologue recognized with a sure instinct the significance
of this christianized idea of the Logos and, by putting it into the fourth
Gospel, he assured for it an effect that cannot easily be estimated. Where-
ever Jews or pagans met the Logos as represented in John’s Gospel, they
encountered the person of Jesus interpreted in a way that left no doubt as to
his real Godhead. It was a formulation that was essentially in agreement
with Pauline christology, but which, by its conceptual formulation, opened
to the Gospel new spheres of influence. In spite of the fact that the evangelist
was deeply rooted in Jewish thought, as the Qumran texts have again
emphasized,68 he was able, by taking over the idea of the Logos, to create
an image of Christ which, without affecting the essential uniqueness of the
message of the Gospel, created fresh possibilities of missionary expansion in
the Graeco-Roman world.
To this image of Christ the evangelist joins a clear consciousness of the
universal mission of Christianity and of its character as a world religion.
This Logos is the light of men; with him came into the world the true light
“that enlightens every man” (Jn 1:9); he is “the Lamb of God, who
takes away the sin of the world” (1:29); he was sent that the world might
be saved through him, so that every man that believed in him might have
eternal life (3:16 f.). He gave his flesh for the life of the world, and he went
to his death that he might unite the scattered children of God into one
community (6:51; 11:52). This image of the divine Logos, who brings light
and life and therewith salvation to all mankind, is John’s bequest at the
end of the first century to the next generation of Christians. In making this
bequest John performed an act of first-class importance in the history of
the Church.
67 Idem in BZ 1 (1957), 69-109, esp. 90-101, with which P.-H. Menoud, Uevangile de
Jean (Paris 1958), 17, agrees.
68 Cf. e.g. F.-M. Braun, “L’arriere-fond du quatrieme ^vangile” in Uevangile de Jean,
179-96.
121
Beside this concept of Christ there appears in the Johannine writings an

image of the Church which also shows a new aspect.69 The ecclesiological
content of John’s Gospel has indeed often been misunderstood because
critics allowed themselves to be too much influenced by a phraseology which
seems to imply an individualistic concept of the salvation process (3:16;
5:24; 6:56; 15:5). It was believed that he showed a lack of interest in active
missionary and pastoral work, characteristics of a community conscious of
being a church.70 In reality the author of the Johannine writings possessed a
highly individual, deeply thought out concept of the Church, which he
over and over again sought to impart to his readers.
John’s Gospel leaves no doubt that men are received by a sacramental act
into the community of those who by faith in Jesus attain eternal life:
“Unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter into the
kingdom of God.” (3:5) The Spirit that the risen Lord will send effects
this new birth and gives the new, divine life. The baptized form the
community of believers, cleansed from all sin by the blood of Jesus (1 Jn 1:7).
The “anti-Christs” are separated from their fellowship, because they do
not hold steadfastly to the true faith of Christ and to brotherly love (1 Jn
2:19-20; 5:1-2; 4:2-3; 2:9-10), and so lose their divine sonship.71 Only
within this community does one become a partaker in the other source of
that life, given, as in baptism, by the Spirit: namely, the Eucharist. Partic
ipation in the eucharistic meal, at which the faithful receive the real flesh
and blood of the risen Lord (Jn 6: 53-58), unites them most intimately with
him and with one another and strengthens the bonds of their fellowship as
nothing else can.
The evangelist seeks to explain and interpret the reality of this fellowship
by words and images employed by Jesus, which have always had an
ecclesiological significance. The image of the one shepherd and one flock
(Jn 10) illustrates above all the inner unity and compactness of the Church,
but also her universality; for all men, Jew as well as Gentile, will one day
be members of her flock (11:52; 17:20ff.).72 The transfer to Peter of the
office of shepherd will ensure the unity of the Church in the future as well.
The secret inner life of the Church shines forth in the figure of the vine and
its branches. Only in close and permanent attachment to the true vine,
Christ, do the members of the Church possess life; only if they remain in
69 For what follows cf. esp. R. Schnackenburg, Die Kirche im Neuen Testament (Frei
burg i. Br. 1961) 93-106, Eng. tr. The Church in the New Testament (Freiburg-New York-
London 1965).
70 E. Schweizer, “Der johanneische Kirchenbegriff” in Studia Evangelica (Berlin 1959),
363-81, esp. 379.
71 R. Schnackenburg, Die Johannesbriefe (Freiburg i. Br. 1953), 155-62.
72 For the origin of the supplementary chapter from Johannine tradition, cf. M.-E. Bois-
mard, “Le chapitre 21 de S. Jean” in RB 54 (1947), 473-501.
122
THE JOHANNINE WRITINGS
this community do they remain also in him and be capable of bringing forth
fruit.
According to the evangelist’s view, the Church is called to bear witness,
in the midst of a hostile world, to the risen Christ and to the salvation
brought by him. (15:26-27). This leads to conflict with the world and so
inevitably to actual martyrdom: the Church becomes a church of martyrs.
It is a theme to which the Apocalypse constantly returns, whether the
Church be regarded under the image of the heavenly woman73 who has
to fight and overcome the dragon (Rev. 12), or whether she be represented
as those who follow the Lamb (14:1-5; 13:7-10). The fellowship of the
followers of the Lamb here on earth is strengthened in its constancy by
the sight of the perfect brethren who have already conquered, “for they
loved not their lives, even unto death” (12:11), and have overcome Satan
“by the blood of the Lamb and the word of their testimony” (ibid.). Thus
is completed the bridge between the heavenly and the earthly Church,
who, as the bride of the Lamb, is on the way to her marriage, to her
own perfecting. When she reaches the goal of her journey, she will live
on as the new Jerusalem in the kingdom of God at the end of the world.
This majestic view of the perfected Church was proclaimed, as a message
of comfort and encouragement, to the actual Church of the late first century,
oppressed by the persecution of Domitian.74 In the fortifying possession of
such a vision, she strode out boldly towards her objective. Out of these riches
she was able to renew her steadfastness in the faith, whenever she was
called upon to give further concrete witness to it.
73 Cf. J. Sickenberger, “Die Messiasmutter im 12. Kapitel der Apokalypse” in ThQ 126
(1946), 357-427.
74 R. Schiitz, Die Offenbarung des Johannes und Kaiser Domitian (Gottingen 1933).
123
SECTION THREE
The Post-Apostolic Age
W i t h the death of the last of the apostles the young Church lost the last
leading figure who could be invoked as an eye-witness to the life, death

and resurrection of the Lord. Her destinies were now entrusted to a new
generation which was, however, conscious of being in a unique way pledged
to maintain the traditions of the apostles. Therefore the post-apostolic
age represents a phase in the history of the Church which can be regarded
as a direct development of what was already begun. In points of detail, the
Church of that period did indeed display characteristics which mark her off
from the apostolic Church in the strict sense. Her mission field remained
essentially the same as in the previous generation, which, starting out from
Antioch, had taken a decisive step by addressing her preaching to the
world of Hellenistic civilization. Missionary successes had evidently not
been revolutionary either in numbers or in the social rank of the new
adherents, even though a numerical increase, especially in the big cities
of the empire, was clearly perceptible. Because of this, Christianity was
to an increasing degree awakening the interest of its pagan surroundings;
local persecutions occurred, usually caused by the antipathy of the local
population, whereas the pagan State had as yet no definite policy in its
relationship to the new religion. The chief development in the post-apostolic
age was within the Church, and for our knowledge of it, the primary
sources are the writings of the apostolic Fathers which began to appear at
this time.
One can hardly speak of a deeper understanding or development of the
central themes of Pauline theology. The favourite subject of theological
discussion remained the controversy with Judaism, carried on however
in a form so steeped in Jewish ideas that at first it might rather be called
a theology of Jewish Christianity. Only in the works of the apologists do
we perceive a Christianity more strongly affected by the religious philosophy
of Hellenism; conflict with this and with Gnosticism (now a keen rival),
necessitated a further theological development and represents a new phase
in the history of the early Church.
124
THE POST-APOSTOLIC AGE
The religious practice of the post-apostolic age remained, both in the

narrower sacramental sphere of baptism and Eucharist and in its daily
expression in prayer and asceticism, largely that established by apostolic
tradition. Only in the question of discipline did the Church seek solutions
for new problems which arose from the lapses of individual Christians
during times of persecution. The greatest progress is probably to be seen
in the further development of ecclesiastical organization, which gave each
congregation a monarchical episcopate, whose jurisdiction was clearly
defined. This arrangement became general. A t the same time a growing
consciousness of the underlying union of all Christian congregations with
one another is apparent, expressing itself in cordial relations between them,
in personal visits, in correspondence and in solicitude for the welfare of
other congregations; in this respect, the church of Rome felt itself obliged
by a higher degree of responsibility for all the others. The unity of all
who confessed Christ in the Roman Empire was believed to be what the
founder of the Church demanded. They also believed that in the episcopate
set up by him and based on the apostolic succession they possessed a
guarantee of that unity.
C h a p t e r 8
The Conflict between Christianity and the Roman State Power
The Beginnings of the Conflict
T h e Christian communities which sprang up in the cities of the Roman

Empire at the beginning of the Church’s missionary activity were bound,
sooner or later, to attract the attention of their pagan neighbours on account
of their marked aversion from everything connected with pagan worship.
From the beginning this interest had a hostile tendency, all the more
remarkable inasmuch as such a reaction on the part of the pagan masses
towards new religious cults from the East (except for a few outbreaks
against the Jews) was otherwise unusual. Besides, these non-Christian oriental
cults generally conducted a lively propaganda, which in places met with
considerable success. The cause of this hostile attitude on the pagan side
towards the adherents of the Christian religion must, therefore, be sought
in the latter itself. It lay ultimately in the claim to absolute truth with
which the Christian faith entered the world, a claim which evidently could
not be tolerant towards any other religion and was bound to involve the
Church in a conflict of principles with the Roman State religion. There
now appeared in the Roman Empire, for the first time, a religious movement
which did not look upon its God merely as a special divinity, but as the
125
only true God and Redeemer of the world, beside the worship of whom none
other might exist. As the Christians also drew the practical conclusion from
their convictions in daily life and cut themselves off absolutely from their
pagan surroundings, they gradually came to appear to the latter as declared
enemies of classical culture, permeated as it was by religion.
The hostile atmosphere thus created was demonstrably nourished by
the Jews of the Diaspora, who could not forgive the Jewish Christians
for their apostasy from the faith of their fathers. The way the Christians
shunned contact with the outside world continually provided fresh fuel
for and an appearance of credibility to those dark rumours which accused
them of sexual immorality at their nocturnal meetings, and revolting
practices in their religious worship. All this formed the soil from which
grew that general opinion of the Christians as a low rabble who had only
too much reason to avoid the light of publicity. A trifling occasion was
therefore often sufficient for the mistrust and stored-up resentment of the
pagan population to vent themselves in outbreaks of persecution. Sometimes
during these, adherents of the new faith were deprived by mob justice of
goods or life, or dragged before the civil authorities with loud demands
for punishment.
The Christians themselves always felt such proceedings to be unjust
persecution and showed little understanding of the fact that their religious
exclusiveness offered some grounds for them. For this reason, the sources
of our knowledge of the conflict between Christianity and paganism in
pre-Constantinian times are of a peculiar nature and need careful consid
eration. Both separate descriptions and general accounts of the so-called
persecutions were nearly all the products of Christian pens; a detailed
history of them from the pagan point of view does not exist. In later
Christian historical writing, the Christian attitude towards the events has
understandably prevailed, showing on one side only the brutal persecutor
who was later stricken down by well-merited divine punishment, and on
the other the elect and the just, who by their steadfast witness deserved an
imperishable heavenly crown. The view of writers like Lactantius and
Eusebius have determined the image of the persecutions right down to
modern times. The number of them was said to have been ten, because by
mystical anticipation they were thought to have been prefigured in the ten
plagues of Egypt.
With the abandonment of this traditional scheme, a more objective
estimate of the question has become possible which has led us to recognize
two important points: first, that it will not do to look upon every Roman
emperor or provincial governor, under whose rule or administration
Christians were put to death, as a man who persecuted them in blind rage
solely because of their faith. The causes in individual cases differed widely
and must be separately assessed. Moreover, the initiative for reprisals against
126
CONFLICT WITH THE ROMAN STATE POWER
the Christians did not come primarily from the State authorities; it was
contrary to the principles of Roman religious policy to proceed with the
power of the State against the adherents of a religious movement solely
because of their beliefs. N o doubt, the close connexion between the Roman
religion and the State was regarded as one of the main supports of the
empire. If, in Republican times, the invasion of foreign cults from the East
was looked on with mistrust, and if, in 186 b . c . on the occasion of the
famous affair of the Bacchanalia, certain counter-measures were taken, these
were not primarily directed against the religious convictions of the
adherents of a new cult, so much as against the immoral excesses which
it brought in its train, making it a danger to Roman morality and therefore,
indirectly, to the public good. The same motives later prompted the Roman
authorities to take proceedings against soothsayers, astrologers and
charlatans who caused political unrest by their horoscopes and prophecies.1
This policy was continued during the first century of the empire. The
cult of the emperor, as it developed into divine worship such as Augustus
received in the eastern provinces, did indeed become a new and essential
component of the State religion. But its external form, its ritual, developed
only slowly, so that the conscious rejection of emperor worship on the
part of the Christians, could but seldom, in the first century, have been
the motive for proceedings against them by the State. Only on isolated
occasions did emperors like Nero and Domitian press certain prerogatives
of the emperor cult and thus provoke conflicts which, however, did not
affect the Christians exclusively.
The pagan State power first began to notice the special character of the
new religious movement only because of the disturbances that occurred
between Christians and Jews or pagans, and then it had to step in, in order
to get these tumults under control. Only then, did the authorities gradually
become convinced that the religious peace which had reigned hitherto, was
being disturbed by the Christians and that the latter in fact constituted a
threat to the customary religious policy of the empire. Only after closer
observation did it become clear that the Christians also rejected the Roman
State religion on principle and thus, in the opinion of the government,
jeopardized the State itself. So the pagan State power can be mentioned
only with certain limitations when we list the factors to which the
persecution of the Christians is to be attributed. The primary cause was
rather the claim to absoluteness made by the Christian religion itself; a
secondary cause was the hostile attitude of the pagan population. Only in
the third century did the conflict between Christianity and the pagan
State become one of principle, when the latter thought it saw in the new
religion a power that threatened its own existence.
1 Cf. J. Moreau, La persecution du christianisme dans Vempire romain (Paris 1956),
15-19.
127
Such a view of the circumstances in no way precludes unrestricted

admiration for the attitude of the Christian martyrs, who professed their
religious convictions with exemplary heroism and defended, for all time,
freedom of conscience in the face of all earthly power.
The Persecutions under Nero and Domitian

The first case that can be verified with certainty in which a Roman State
authority was closely concerned with a Christian has hitherto been thought
to have been that of the apostle Paul who, invoking his right as a Roman
citizen, appealed to Caesar when brought before the procurator Porcius
Festus in 59 and was, therefore, taken to Rome. The proceedings apparently
ended, as we have already mentioned, with an acquittal. Paul’s religion
was evidently not regarded as offending against the existing laws or public
order. Recently, however, it has been claimed that indications have been
found of an anti-Christian attitude on the part of the Roman State which
may be dated to the beginning of Claudius’s reign. This emperor, in a letter
discovered in 1920,2 was answering the complaints which had been brought
to him by a Jewish (and Greek?) delegation from Alexandria which
simultaneously conveyed a congratulatory address on his accession. The
emperor specifically forbade the Jews of the Egyptian capital to invite
thither fellow-countrymen from Syria or Egypt; if they disobeyed in this
matter he would be compelled “to proceed against them with every means,
since they would spread, as it were, a kind of pestilence over the whole
world.” 3 This “pestilence” has been understood as the Christian religion,
which was then being propagated by its missionaries in Egypt and
elsewhere in the Roman Empire. The text of Claudius’ letter does not,
however, force us to such an interpretation; its wording can without
difficulty be understood as referring to the continual quarrels of the Jewish
inhabitants of Alexandria among themselves and with the Greek
population, which had repeatedly led to bloodshed. It is, moreover, against
all probability that the Jews, in order to strengthen their position, should
admit into the Egyptian capital precisely those Jews who had become
converts to Christianity.
Another action of the same emperor can, with much greater justification
be connected with Christian missionary work in Rome; it is mentioned
by Dio Cassius and Suetonius. Claudius expelled the Jews from Rome
2 This is the London Papyrus 1912, published by J. Idris Bell, Jews and Christians in
Egypt (London 1924); see also S. Losch, Epistula Claudiana (Rottenburg 1930); H. Janne,
“La lettre de Claude aux Alexandrins et le christianisme” in APhilHistOS 4 (1936),
273-95; H. Idris Bell, Cults and Creeds in Greco-Roman Egypt (Liverpool 1954), 78ff.;
F. F. Bruce, “Christianity under Claudius” in BJRL 44 (1961-2), 309-26.
3 Pap. Lond. 1912, 98-100.
128
because they were continually in conflict among themselves, the conflict

being provoked by a man called Chrestos.4
An identification of this Chrestos with Christ positively obtrudes itself;
and we may here be seeing the first effects of the Christian message among
the Jewish community of Rome. The married couple Aquila and Priscilla,
were also affected by the emperor’s expulsion order, and they thereupon
took up residence at Corinth, where they gave hospitality to Paul when he
was preaching there about the years 49-50 (Acts 18:2-4). It may be
assumed that the Jewish couple had already embraced Christianity, but
were included in the imperial order simply because they belonged to the
Jewish race. The emperor’s action is, therefore, not yet to be regarded as
anti-Christian; it was merely intended to put an end to a centre of unrest
among the Roman population.
The earliest example of adherents of the Christian faith being persecuted
by Roman authorities remains therefore the events which befell the Christian
community at Rome after the burning of the city under Nero in the year
64. The account which Tacitus gives in his Annals provides valuable
information about the background to these occurrences.5 A remarkably
persistent rumour was circulating among the people that Nero himself
was responsible for the conflagration which on 16 July 64 destroyed several
districts of the city completely and others in part. To get rid of this
suspicion, the emperor (Tacitus reports) diverted it onto the Christians,
“who on account of their misdeeds were hated”. Some men, who had been
arrested and charged, were bribed to denounce the Christians as the actual
culprits. The latter were then seized in large numbers (ingens multitudo) and
executed in the ways reserved for arsonists: some of the Christians were
sewn into the skins of animals and thrown to wild dogs, others were
clothed in inflammable materials and used as living torches after dark in
Nero’s gardens, which he threw open to the public for the spectacle.
Tacitus had no doubt that the Christians were unjustly accused of arson,
even though he believed that they deserved the severest punishments on
account of their other crimes. H e did not, therefore, share the compassion
which was shown towards them at the time “because they were sacrificed to
gratify the cruel whim of one man”. Tacitus’ description, no doubt correct
in essentials, shows us that the Christian community at Rome in the seventh
decade of the first century had a considerable number of members, for ingens
multitudo certainly implies more than a handful. Furthermore, it is clear
that the motive of the persecution by Nero was not his belief that the new
religion constituted a threat to the State. In carrying out his plan he made
unscrupulous use of the hostile attitude of the population towards the
4 Suetonis, Claud. 25, 4: “Judaeos impulsore Chresto assidue tumultuantis Roma expulit.”
5 On the interpretation of Tacitus’ account (Annul. 14, 44) cf. esp. H. Fuchs, VigChr 4
(1950), 65-93, and K. Buchner, Humanitas Romana (Heidelberg 1957), 229-39.
129
Christians, but he was not aiming at the Christian faith as such. Later
Christian apologists, of course, generally regarded him as the first Roman
emperor who persecuted Christianity from religious motives; according
to Lactantius, Nero’s proceedings had as their objective the complete
extirpation of Christianity.
The statements about a persecution of the Christians which Clement of
Rome made in his letter to the congregation of Corinth before the end of
the century no doubt also refer to the events under Nero. He is the first
Christian writer to mention them. Without naming Nero directly, he says
that not only did Peter and Paul suffer a violent death, but also “a great
number of the elect”, among them women, had died after cruel tortures.6
The reference to the great number and the manner of execution hardly
admits room for doubt that we are here reading of the same events that
Tacitus describes.
Lactantius is the only author who states that the Roman persecution
under Nero was not confined to the capital but included the whole empire.
This is improbable, for the other sources are silent on this matter and
Lactantius possesses in other respects no exact knowledge of the events in
Nero’s reign. It would, besides, imply that the measures taken in 64 were
not due to a passing caprice, but were based upon a law valid for the empire
as a whole. Tertullian indeed says, when telling of the persecution under
Nero, that all the proceedings of that cruel emperor were subsequently
declared null and void, with one exception: the proscription by him of
the Christian name was the only institution Neronianum that was not
removed by his damnatio memoriae.7 Many modern historians quote this
statement, assuming from it that a general edict of persecution was issued
by N ero.8
The following considerations, however, are decisively against such an
assumption. An edict of that kind must have had effects in the whole
empire, and therefore in the East also; but all the sources, and, in particular,
those for the East, say nothing of it. Moreover, at the beginning of the
sixties, Christianity was hardly of such importance to the Roman Govern
ment that the latter should have had any occasion to take legal measures
against it. What speaks most strongly against the existence of a Neronian
edict of persecution, is the fact that never in later times did the Roman
authorities base their attitude towards the Christian problem on such
a decree. So Tacitus’ account possesses in this matter also a greater degree
6 Clement, Ep. ad Cor. 6.

7 Tertullian, Ad. nat. 1, 7, 9: “et tamen mansit erasis omnibus hoc solum institutum
Neronianum.”
8 E.g. J. Zeiller in Fliche-Martin I, 292; H. Gr£goire, Les persecutions dans I’empire
romain (Brussels 1951), 25 ff.; J. Beaujeu, La religion romaine a Vapogee de Vempire I
(Paris 1955), 107.
130
of credibility; Nero’s action against the Christians had no legal foundation,

but sprang from the arbitrary will of the ruler, who thereby hoped to
cleanse himself from the suspicion of arson. Nevertheless, public opinion
regarding the Christians was certainly influenced by Nero’s persecution
of them; and Tertullian’s words are no doubt to be understood in this
sense. The vague feeling in the mind of the pagan masses that the
Christians were a suspect lot, capable of dark crimes, was, as it were,
sanctioned by their execution. From that time on, to be a Christian was to
be an outlaw in the eyes of the people; what Nero had begun (id quod a
Nerone institutum est), the moral proscription of the name of Christian,
persisted for a long time. In the future, the Roman authorities could
always find support from public opinion whenever the circumstances
obliged them, in any particular case, to face the question whether the State
should take action against the Christians or tolerate them. It is not hard
to understand how this view of Christianity should gradually acquire the
force of a principle of law by which the legal position of the Christians in
the empire was largely determined.
The sources tell us far less about the persecution which the Christians
endured under the emperor Domitian, though there is no doubt that it took
place. There is first the clear and unequivocal statement of Melito of Sardes,
who was fairly close in time to the event. He, in his apologia for the emperor
Marcus Aurelius, mentions Domitian alongside Nero as an opponent of
Christianity.9 The remarks of the Roman Bishop Clement in his letter to the
Corinthians (1:1), saying that the perils and tribulations which had suddenly
fallen upon the Christians had prevented his writing sooner, can, moreover,
hardly be interpreted otherwise than as a reference to measures taken by
that emperor against the Christians.10 Some statements of non-Christian
authors can also be understood in this sense. Epictetus’ reproach to the
Christians that they went foolishly and thoughtlessly to their death,11
implies that they were being persecuted, as does the remark of the elder
Pliny, in his letter to Trajan,12 that certain alleged Christians had asserted
in court the fact of their renunciation of Christianity twenty years before.
Special importance seems due to the statement of Dio Cassius13 to the
effect that the consul Flavius Clemens and his wife Domitilla had been
accused and condemned on account of “godlessness” (dOsor-/^), and with
them “many others, who favoured Jewish practices”. As Dio Cassius a
little later calls the crime of these persons dae(3sta, it becomes clear that
here is meant the crimen laesae majestatis, the crime of which the Christians
9 Euseb. HE 4, 26, 9.
10 J. Vogt, “Christenverfolgungen” (historical) in RAC II (1954), 1168.
11 Epictetus, Diss. 4, 7, 6.
12 Pliny the Younger, Ep. 10, 96, 6.
18 Dio Cassius, 67, 14, 1-2.
131
were said to be guilty when, in the second century, they were accused of
atheism. If the author here refers, as he evidently does, to Christians — he
never mentions them by that name anywhere in his work — the accusation
of godlessness makes intelligible the motive behind Domitian’s action: it
was the emperor’s claim to absoluteness for his own person, expressed in
the demands of a cult that knew no limitations. Certain references in the
Apocalypse also fit in with this view of the facts if one accepts that it was
written, at least in its present form, in the last years of the first century, as
there are strong grounds for supposing.14 According to the Apocalypse, the
persecution of the Church which the author saw approaching, had, for its
cause, the clash between emperor-worship on Domitian’s pattern and the
Christian idea of God. To the congregations of Asia Minor especially,
Domitian’s claim to divine honours must have been a heavy blow, because
the flourishing imperial cult in that region hardly permitted any avoidance
of the conflict. The pretext for the persecution in the eastern provinces was,
therefore, based solely on the accusation of lese-majeste which rejection of
emperor-worship involved.
The sources make few concrete statements about the extent of the
persecution and the number of its victims. We may believe the words of
Dio Cassius that in Rome, besides the above-named consular pair, “many
others” were implicated. That the consul for the year 91, Acilius Glabrio,
likewise condemned to death by Domitian, was also executed for his
Christian belief, cannot be proved, but the possibility is not to be excluded.
In any case we must not try to support this view by reference to an
archaeological discovery which has often been adduced as proof: the
so-called crypt of the Acilii in the catacomb of Priscilla is not of earlier date
than the middle of the second century.1516Nor can the nucleus of the present
catacomb of Domitilla on the Via Ardeatina be proved to be a burial place
founded by the Roman lady put to death by Domitian, even though
inscriptions suggest that Domitilla had connexions with the district where
it lies.18 As Dio Cassius states, the emperor Nerva did not accept the
accusations of godlessness and Jewish practices and so the persecution
ceased.
The Court Trials of Christians under Trajan and Hadrian
Of the legal position of the Christians during the reign of Trajan (98-117)
and of the proceedings of the authorities in Asia Minor, in particular,
we should know nothing if we had only Christian sources to rely on. The
14 See above, chapter 7.

15 Cf. A. M. Schneider, Festschr. Akad. Wiss. Gottingen 2 (1951), 182-90.
16 L. Herding and E. Kirschbaum, Die romischen Katakomben und ihre Martyrer (Vienna,
2nd ed. 1955), 44-46.
132
official question addressed to the emperor by a governor of Bithynia, as to

what principle he should follow in certain border-line cases when dealing
with Christians, shows clearly that in that Asiatic province numerous
persons were denounced to the authorities as Christians, tried and examined,
and, if they remained true to their faith, executed. Together with the answer,
which the emperor personally sent to the governor in the form of a rescript,
this correspondence between Pliny the younger and his imperial master17
gives us an opportunity to study the attitude which the Government of
the empire adopted towards Christianity at the beginning of the second
century.
Pliny, who took office in 111 or 112, gives us welcome information
about the situation of the Christian religion as he found it in his province.
It had already found many adherents outside the towns among people of
all classes and ages. The reason why the governor was concerned with the
Christian community was the fact that many of its members did not obey
the imperial decree banning the hetairies, associations unrecognized by the
State. These Christians were denounced to the governor, sometimes even
anonymously. Pliny first established by examination that they were
Christians and then ordered them, with threats of the death penalty, to give
up their religion. Only when they obstinately persisted in it did he have
them put to death, with the exception of those who were Roman citizens;
these were, in accordance with the law, kept apart from the others that they
might be transported to Rome for their cases to be heard.
Various occurrences during the trials, however, caused doubts to arise
in the mind of the governor as to whether the method employed was legally
correct; it sometimes came out at the hearings that many denunciations
were made solely from motives of spite; in a long list of names of alleged
Christians the accusers were anonymous. Many of those denounced asserted
that they had never been Christians; they confirmed this by calling on the
gods or by sacrificing before their images or before that of the emperor.
Others claimed that they had long since renounced Christianity and likewise
sacrificed to the gods and the emperor; they even emphasized their
recantation by reviling the God of the Christians. The examination of those
who confessed themselves Christians before the governor disclosed no crime
against the existing laws, even when torture was applied.
Pliny formulated his scruples in a few precise questions addressed to the
emperor. Must the age of the accused be taken into consideration? May one
grant pardon if one of them recants? Is it the name alone (of Christian)
which is to be punished, even when there are no other crimes? Are only those
crimes to be punished which are associated with the name of Christian?
Finally, Pliny tried to suggest an answer to the emperor which would
17 Both documents are in Pliny the Younger, Ep. 10, 96, 97.
133
enable him to proceed with leniency: if he were indulgent towards the

penitent, he might expect to win back a large number to paganism.
One thing appears clearly from Pliny’s letter: the governor of Bithynia
was unaware of any law or decree of the State which might serve as a
norm in proceedings against adherents of the Christian faith. He does not
at all ask how this or that formulation of a law should be interpreted or
amplified. His dilemma is simply this: does the mere name of Christian
suffice as grounds for persecution, or must other crimes be proved?
Trajan’s answer confirms equally unmistakably that there was no general
law regulating proceedings against Christians; the situation was still in the
emperor’s opinion such that he could establish no universally valid norm.
He gave Pliny certain directives intended to lighten his difficulties —
Christians were not to be sought out, anonymous accusations were to be
ignored. A man denounced as a Christian was to be examined; if he denied
his Christianity and confirmed his denial by invoking the Roman gods, he
was not to be punished even if he had formerly been a Christian. Only he
who on examination confessed himself to be a Christian and persisted in
his confession was to be punished. Proof of crimes against other laws was
therefore not to be demanded; the mere fact of being a Christian sufficed
for condemnation.
The rescript of Trajan does not in any way attempt to give a reason
for or to justify these principles; they were clearly self-evident and
familiar to the emperor as an expression of the current public opinion
about the Christians. The estimate of them which had grown up since Nero’s
time had become firmly established and was so general that even the Roman
authorities could make this maxim their own: to be a Christian is something
which is not allowed. That such a maxim was in contradiction to the
acknowledged principles of Roman law shows the inconsistencies which
the rescript contains. Although to be a Christian was already an offence,
the authorities were not on their own initiative to seek out Christians. He
who had made himself guilty of this crime could nevertheless escape
punishment if he renounced his religion. It is noteworthy that even after
this rescript the State authorities in the provinces were given wide freedom
of action; according to the degree of the Roman official’s independence from
the pressure of pagan opinion, persecution could flare up in individual
provinces and take extreme forms, or complete peace might reign. One
positive advantage the Christians might feel they had gained, arose from
the emperor’s directive that no consideration was to be given to anonymous
accusers; they were thereby protected from many vexations and might
with the exercise of a little prudence expect to live in anyway relative
security.
The sources give little information about the effects of Trajan’s rescript.
Thus we know no names of Christians who lost their lives in Bithynia, nor
134
do we learn the fate of those who as Roman citizens were kept apart in
order to be tried at Rome. Whether the references to persecutions in
Polycarp’s letter to the congregation of Philippi18 apply to the reign of
Trajan cannot be determined. There are only two martyrs whose names
have been handed down that can with any certainty be attributed to this
period. Bishop Simeon of Jerusalem, successor of James, met death by
crucifixion at the age of 120 years.19 Ignatius of Antioch was brought to
Rome, probably being a Roman citizen, and was executed there while
Trajan was still emperor, as Eusebius relates20 on the authority of Irenaeus,
without giving the exact date of his death. Reports of other martyrdoms
under Trajan in later Acts are of such doubtful value that we can learn
little from them.
Under Trajan’s successor Hadrian (117-38) a governor again applied to
the emperor for directions in his dealings with the Christians. The letter of
the proconsul of the province of Asia Proconsularis, Getulius Serennius
Granianus, to Hadrian is lost, but the emperor’s answer to his successor in
office, Minucius Fundanus, has been preserved by Justin, who included it
in his Apologia. 21 Even more decisively than Trajan, Hadrian condemned
anonymous denunciations of Christians and demands made by the mob for
their punishment. Only when someone vouched with his name for the
accusations was a Christian to be brought to trial, and only when it could
be proved that the accused “had offended against the laws” was the governor
to pronounce sentence “according to the gravity of the offence”.
This rescript of Hadrian has been regarded as nothing more than a
reaffirmation of the norms which Trajan had established.22 In this view,
the proof which the accuser had to produce would then be nothing more
than evidence that the person named was a Christian. The proconsul,
however, was to punish “according to the gravity of the offence”. It is
hard to see how in the mere fact of being Christian there could be any
differences of degree in the eyes of the judge. The interpretation which
Justin gives of the rescript is therefore more probable. According to him,
Hadrian’s attitude meant a relief for the Christians which went far beyond
the norms fixed by Trajan; Christians could be punished only if they could
be proved to have committed crimes against the existing laws of the State.
Hadrian does not indeed exclude the possibility of prosecution for merely
being a Christian, but he appears to have demanded proof that the accused
had offended against Roman law. Be that as it may, the rescript was only
giving guidance to a proconsul on how to act in his own province. Elsewhere
18 Polycarp, Phil. 9, 12.

19 Euseh. HE 3, 32, 3, 6 according to Hegesippus.
20 Euseh. HE 3, 36, 3; Irenaeus, Adv. haer. 5, 28, 4.
21 Justin, Apol. 68, 5-10; Euseh. HE 4, 9.
22 W. Schmid, Maja 7 (1955), 5-13; J. Moreau, op. cit. 48.
135
a Roman administrator could well follow the maxim that the nomen
Christianum in itself was worthy of punishment.
There is every indication that Hadrian’s rescript perceptibly ameliorated
the position of the Christians. No document mentions an actual or even an
alleged martyrdom in the province of Asia Proconsularis, nor can executions
of Christians in other parts of the empire be attributed with certainty to
the reign of Hadrian.
The principle that the mere fact of being a Christian was punishable
remained the general norm during the rest of the second century, as is
proved by several martyrdoms under Hadrian’s successor Antoninus Pius
(138-61). Justin adds to the appendix of his Apologia an account which
relates, obviously with an exact knowledge of the details, the execution of
three Christians at Rome,23 who because of their steadfast profession of
faith were condemned to death by the prefect of the city. The Shepherd of
Hermas, with its remarks about Christians who remained constant or
relapsed, likewise presupposes proceedings against them under Antoninus
Pius.24 The part played by the pagan populace in the carrying out of legal
procedure against a Christian is made very clear in the report which the
congregation of Smyrna gave on the death of their Bishop Polycarp.25 In
the form of a letter to the Christian community of Philomelion, the
Christians of Smyrna relate how the pagans of the city, making a tumult,
demanded of the magistrates that the bishop, who had fled, should be sought
out and brought to judgment. As he refused to deny Christ he was
condemned to death at the stake and burnt in the theatre. Fixing the date
of this martyrdom does indeed involve some difficulties; but placing it
in the reign of Marcus Aurelius, as Eusebius does, demands such a number
of weakly-based hypotheses that the traditional view that Polycarp died
under Antoninus Pius seems to be preferable.26
This survey of the persecutions of Christians in the Roman Empire from
the time of Nero to the middle of the second century leads us to the
following conclusions. There was no general law that governed the attitude
of the State towards the Christians. Out of the hostile feeling of the pagan
population there developed an opinion that regarded being a Christian as
incompatible with the Roman way of life; from this arose a kind of legal
maxim that made it possible for the authorities to punish adherence to
Christianity as a crime in itself. The persecutions that resulted were only
local, occurred only sporadically and were directed against individual
23 Justin, Apol. append. 2.

24 Hermas, Past. Vis. 2, 2-3; 3, 6-7; 4, 2, 5.
25 Martyr. Polycarp. 3, 2.
26 Cf. H. Gr^goire, “La date du martyre de Polycarpe” in AnBoll 69 (1951), 1-38;
E. Griffe in BLE 52 (1951), 170-7; 54 (1953), 178-81; H.-I. Marrou in AnBoll 71 (1953),
5-20.
136
Christians. They were generally sparked off by popular disturbances, and

only because of these did the State authorities intervene. The number of
victims was relatively small.
C h a p t e r 9
The Religious World of the Post-Apostolic Age as

Mirrored in its Writings
I f we turn from the letters of the New Testament to the writings of the
post-apostolic age, we are immediately struck by the vast difference in form
and content between the latter and the former. The writers of this period
are but epigones of the great figures of the apostolic era. They took up the
pen almost hesitantly in order to discuss questions concerning the Christian
interpretation and ordering of life. In so far as we can clearly identify
individual personalities among these writers, they have been given the
honorary title of “Apostolic Fathers,” to express the fact that they were
conscious of being close to the time and world of the apostles. They felt
themselves to be only followers of those great men, whose stature they did
not in any way reach. Even Ignatius of Antioch, pre-eminent emong them
for his lively religious sense, knew that he could not at all compare himself
with them,27 and Clement of Rome saw in “the excellent apostles” the
unattainable ideal for his own generation.28
The regard in which the apostles were held remained undiminished, as
is shown by those apocryphal writings which soon appeared, seeking to
gain a heightened interest for themselves by the use of titles such as Letter
of the Apostles, Missionary Sermon of Peter, Letter of Barnabas, Acts of
Paul, Acts of John, etc.29 Post-apostolic writings were largely nourished by
the legacy of the apostles; what the apostolic fathers had to say was the echo
and result of apostolic tradition. The pictures they paint of the religious
life and1thought of their time is for that very reason deserving of special
attention.
The series of apostolic fathers begins with Clement of Rome, who is held
to be the author of a lengthy letter addressed by the Roman congregation
to the church of Corinth shortly before the end of the first century. Clement
evidently wrote the letter in his capacity as leader of the Roman
congregation, as is asserted by the most ancient tradition,30 even though his
17 Ignatius, Rom. 4, 3.
28 1 Clem 5:2.
29 Some of them belong to the first half of the second century, cf. Altaner, 72-83.
80 Thus Hermas, Past. Vis. 2, 4, 3; Irenaeus, Adv. haer. 3, 3, 3. Above all there is the
tradition of Corinth itself, maintained by Bishop Dionysius in a letter to Pope Soter:
Euseb. HE 4, 23,11.
137
position in the list of Roman bishops cannot be determined with certainty.

The occasion of this letter was the report of a regrettable schism within
the Corinthian church, which led to the removal from office of presbyters
of proved worth by a group of younger members of the community. The
Roman Christians felt themselves bound to their brethren in Corinth by
strong ties of solidarity, because of which they earnestly admonished them
to restore the unity of the Church.
In language and style, as well as in his handling of the subject, Clement
shows his formal education no less than his religious and theological
originality. Hellenistic philosophy, especially in its Stoic form,31 was not
unfamiliar to him, and he was highly receptive towards Hellenistic culture
as a whole; but he stood closer to the world of the Old Testament and
Jewish ways of thought, so that some have seen in Clement a convert from
the Judaism of the Diaspora.32 Especially informative about the personal
piety of the author are those parts of the letter (chs. 59-61, 64) in which, as
a Christian preacher, he addresses the congregation of Corinth and begs
them to praise God in a prayer composed by him, just as he may often have
concluded his homilies at religious assemblies in Rome. The letter also gives
valuable information about office-holders in the early Church.
The most sharply defined figure among the apostolic Fathers is the bishop
of a large Christian community in the East, Ignatius of Antioch, who during
a wave of persecution was condemned to be thrown to wild beasts and
suffered martyrdom at Rome in the last years of Trajan’s reign (98-117).
On the journey to the capital he wrote from the seaport town of Smyrna
seven letters, three of which were addressed to the churches of Ephesus,
Magnesia, and Tralles, members of which had come to Smyrna to visit
the highly respected Bishop of Antioch. At Smyrna too he composed his
epistle to the Roman Christians, whereas those to the Philadelphians, to the
Christians of Smyrna, and to their bishop, Polycarp, were written at Troas.
Their authenticity, in spite of some remarkable opinions put forward by a
not unbiased “higher criticism”, is now considered certain.
In attempting to assess the value of this corpus Ignatianum as a source
of information on post-apostolic theology and religion, one must not over
look the fact that the seven letters were written more or less extempore by
a prisoner condemned to death, under the eyes of his not very considerate
gaolers. They are, therefore, not well-weighed theological treatises com
posed in conditions of tranquillity, but the spontaneous outpourings of a
courageous leader, full of the love of Christ and a longing for martyrdom.
All the more precious is this direct evidence, springing from the crowded81
81 L. Sanders, Vhellenisme de S. Clement de Rome et le paulinisme (Louvain 1943); W. C.

van Unnik, “Is 1 Clem 20 purely Stoic?” in VtgChr 4 (1950), 181-9.
32 J. Dani^lou, La theologie da judeo-christianisme (Paris 1958), 53-55, Eng. tr. The
Theology of Jewish Christianity (London 1964).
138
WRITINGS OF THE POST-APOSTOLIC AGE
life of the second century, concerning the beliefs, the piety and way of life
in Christian communities at that time.
Polycarp of Smyrna, to whom one of the seven letters was addressed, was
already bishop of that Asiatic see when he met Ignatius. As a bearer and
transmitter of apostolic traditions he ranks high, for he had been, according
to the testimony of his pupil Irenaeus, in direct contact with several of the
apostles, whose eyewitness accounts of the life and teachings of the Lord
he knew well.33 As Polycarp met Pope Anacletus in Rome (circa 154-5 to
166-7),34 the teachings handed down by the apostles were thus passed on
to the second half of the second century by a highly qualified witness. Of
the numerous pastoral letters that he wrote,35 only one short note and a
longer letter to the congregation of Philippi have been preserved, written
shortly after the death of Ignatius. This letter gives us a valuable glimpse
of the problems which seemed urgent to a Christian pastor of that time
when he addressed the faithful of a congregation known to him.
Some of the writings attributable to the first or second post-apostolic
generation are either anonymous or apocryphal, but they are nevertheless
of great value as evidence concerning the religious life of the period. Chief
of these is the “Doctrine of the Apostles”, the Didache, which was probably
written about the year 100 in Syria and incorporates a Jewish work on the
“two ways”. Its statements about circumstances within the Church oblige us
to give it an early date, though some of its supplementary matter may have
been written later.36 Its editor’s object was clearly to give newly-founded
congregations in Syria a guide for the internal organization of their
community life.
The so-called Letter of Barnabas — Alexandrian tradition early ascribed
it to Paul’s companion, though the text itself names no author — is the work
of a Christian making no pretensions to learning, who after the destruction
of Jerusalem and probably shortly before 130, engages in controversy with
Judaism. In spite of his unfavourable estimate of the latter, which he
reproaches with a fundamental misunderstanding of the Old Testament,
his way of thinking is Jewish, and he is a witness to the Jewish-Christian
character of post-apostolic theology.37
A strange, obscure work, the author of which calls himself Hermas, brings
us to the end of the post-apostolic period. According to the Muratorian
fragment, Hermas was a brother of Pius, bishop of Rome (circa 140-154).
He gave his book the title of The Shepherd after the central figure, who38
38 Euseb. HE 5, 20, 6.
34 Irenaeus in Euseb. HE 5, 24, 16.
85 Ibid. 5, 20, 8.
88 Thus A. Adam in ZKG 58 (1957), 1-47, whose opinion is to be preferred to that of
Audet, La Didache (Paris 1958), who considers an earlier date necessary.
87 Cf. J. Dani&ou, op. cit. 43-46.
139
appears in the second part as teacher of the Christians and preaches penance
in commandments and parables. The first part is more apocalyptic in tone;
in it the Church appears under various figures. A simple member of the
community from a Jewish-Christian background here expresses himself
about his own hard lot, interwoven with the description of which are
sincere, sometimes naive, pictures of the life of the Church. The author is
troubled about the lives of many Christians; without theological or
speculative interests, he demands with great earnestness a moral reform of
the Christian community. The Shepherd is a very important source for our
knowledge of contemporary Christian ideas in Rome about the significance
of penance in the life of the Church as a whole.
Finally there are the so-called second letter of Clement, probably the
oldest extant example of a sermon delivered during a religious service
(perhaps at Corinth) about the middle of the second century, and the
Epistula Apostolorum, a work in letter-form which first gives alleged words
of Christ to his disciples after his resurrection and then goes on to speak,
like a kind of apocalypse, of the parousia of the Lord and of the resurrection
of the body and the last judgment, as well as of the missionary work of
the apostles, uttering at the same time a warning against false doctrines.
Besides these written documents, there also existed in post-apostolic times
a mass of oral traditions which handed down the teachings of the apostles:
the so-called traditions of "the Elders”, 38 attested mainly by Papias and
Clement of Alexandria. The former, according to Irenaeus "a pupil of John
and companion of Polycarp”, 39 zealously collected them from the elders
or from those who had been in contact with them, as he himself relates;40
by the "Elders” he probably means members of the earliest community at
Jerusalem. Clement also stresses the fact that he had taken down from old
presbyters oral traditions which went back to the time of the apostles.41
As the presbyters of Clement cannot be identical with the Asiatic elders of
Papias, they may have been descendants of Jewish Christians belonging to
the original community who came to Alexandria after the destruction of
Jerusalem. In content, these traditions of the elders concern the doctrine
of angels, the interpretation of the first chapter of Genesis and chiliastic
ideas, so that this stream of tradition also informs us about the nature of
post-apostolic theology.
If we base an account of the theological principles and religious life of
the post-apostolic age on this body of writings, we find that its most
characteristic feature is the controversy with contemporary Judaism. This
can be shown to have existed everywhere where numerous Christian
88 Ibid. 55-64.
40 Euseb. HE 3, 39, 3-4.
41 Clement of Alexandria, Stromata 1, 1, 11-12; Euseb. HE 6, 13, 8-9.
140
congregations encountered the Judaism of the Diaspora, especially therefore

in Syria, Asia Minor, and Egypt, but also in Rome. The claim of the Jews
to be the chosen people, the sole heirs of God’s promises, was opposed from
the Christian side with the thesis that after the unfaithfulness and falling
away of the Jewish people the Christians were the true Israel, who had
taken over the inheritance of the rejected nation.
This thesis is most strongly expressed by the author of the letter of
Barnabas, but it also plays an important part in the writings of Ignatius
of Antioch. God (the argument runs) did indeed once make his covenant
with Israel, but the latter relapsed again and again into idolatry and
thereby rejected it. The promises made to the people of the covenant were
fulfilled when Jesus was recognized as the Messiah by a new people, the
Christians.42 Jewish invocation of the Old Law was in vain; the Jews in
their literal-mindedness had so missed the sense of the Law’s religious and
ceremonial ordinances that their worship had become almost idolatrous,
their attitude one of “lawlessness” (avopia);43 God had finished with
them when he allowed the Temple to perish and gave mankind the “New
Law of our Lord Jesus Christ”. 44 The rejection of Jesus by the Jews was
ultimately due to their misunderstanding of the Old Testament; they did
not see that in him the promises of the Old Law were fulfilled. The
christology of the post-apostolic age was largely characterized by this
scriptural proof that Jesus was the Messiah, which was based upon testimony
collected from the Old Testament itself.45
Whereas the strongly anti-Jewish attitude of Barnabas limited his view
of thesoteriological significance of Christ, this was more clearly seen by other
post-Apostolic writers, as for example, Clement of Rome, who knew that
Jesus had shed his blood for our salvation and thus atoned for the sins of
the whole w orld;46 even more clearly is this idea expressed by Ignatius
of Antioch according to whom the flesh of Christ had suffered for our
sins and won us eternal life, giving us a new relationship with the Father.47
Anti-Jewish polemics figure largely in the Didache, which warns against
Jewish fasting and prayers, but at the same time takes over Jewish elements
for the liturgy of the Lord’s supper.48 In other writings of the time this
anti-Jewish attitude is less evident, for instance in the first letter of Clement;
while in the Shepherd of Hermas it actually gives way to one which is
markedly friendly towards Judaism.
42 Ps.-Barnabas, Ep. 4, 6-8; 14.

43 Ibid. 9, 6; 16, 2.
44 Ibid. 16, 5; 2, 6.
45 M. Simon, Vertis Israel (Paris 1948), 186 f.
46 1 Clem 8:1 f.
47 Ignatius, Smyrn. 7, 1; Trail. 9, 2; Eph. 11, 1; Rom. 2, 2; 7, 2.
48 Didache 8, If.; 9-10.
141
The central place that the Lord gave to prayer in the religious life of
his disciples remained unaffected in the Church of post-apostolic times.
Christian prayer was still in many respects akin to that of the Jews; it
was still addressed to the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, but every
Christian knew that he was the Father of Jesus Christ. It also continued
to employ Old Testaments forms, for the Old Testament had been inherited
as a priceless possession by the new and true Israel. But a fresh note is
audible in more than one of the prayers of this time — a note of victorious
confidence, of buoyancy arising from the consciousness of being redeemed.
Thus the Father is thanked with gladness for the new life which he has given
to men in Jesus.49 With joyous gratitude Polycarp thanks the Father of
Jesus Christ for the gift of martyrdom; for this and for all things he
praises and glorifies him now and for ever, confirming his thanks with the
word Amen that had been taken into the Christian liturgy.50 In the same
tone of freshness is the great song of praise in the epistle of Clement, which
does pray for the blessings which a Christian will always ask his God for:
for peace and justice in this world, as well as for help for those in distress
and wisdom for the mighty. But it is ever mindful of the one great fact, that
Christians have been chosen by the Father from among all men as being
those who love the Father through his son Jesus Christ, by whom they
have been made holy.51
In their hieratic restraint these texts unmistakably show their nearness to
liturgical prayers as they were formulated by the bishops who conducted
the eucharistic celebration. They are therefore addressed exclusively to the
Father, according to the example of the Lord in his prayers; prayer is
offered to the Father in the name of his son Jesus Christ, the high priest.52
This does not mean that private prayers were not also quite early addressed
to Jesus Christ; even Pliny (circa 112) knew that the Christians sang hymns
to their Lord,53 the prayers of the martyrs to Christ give us in their
fullness and frequency an idea how familiar direct invocation of Christ
must have been in the earliest times.54*
The sacraments do not figure so prominently in the writings of the
apostolic fathers as at a later period. Their ritual forms were still in process
of development, but their essential place in the Christian life as a whole
is clear. This is especially true of the sacrament of initiation, baptism. The
Didache™ stresses the importance of carrying out the rite properly;
49 Ibid. 9, 2-5.
60 Martyr. Polyc. 14, 1-3.
51 1 Clem 59-61.
82 Ibid. 61:3.
88 Pliny the Younger, Ep. 10, 96; for examples in the N.T., cf. 1 Tim 3:16; Rev 5:9-13.
84 K. Baus, “Das Gebet der Martyrer” in TThZ 62 (1953), 19-32.
88 Didache, 7,1-4.
142
immersion in “living” (flowing) water is desirable,56 but in exceptional

cases it suffices to pour water thrice over the head of the person to be
baptized. More important is it that every time baptism should be adminis
tered “in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit” —
the trinitarian formula is the essential formula of baptism. This is what
is meant when the Didache elsewhere57 speaks of “baptism in the name of
the Lord”. The Christian was aware that in baptism he received the seal of
the tri-personal God, to whose sovereignty he thereby submitted. The
Pauline representation of baptism as a burial with Christ and a rising
again with him is perhaps indicated by the practice of immersion as the
regular form.
The importance of baptism was underlined by the requirement of a
preparatory fast, to which both the person to be baptized and the one
administering the sacrament were obliged, but in which, if possible, other
members of the congregation were also to take part, for baptism concerned
them all — a new member was being incorporated into the community of
those who were united in belief in the Lord. That baptism would give a
special character to the life of a Christian, that it would be like a suit of
armour to him, is emphasized by Ignatius of Antioch, for whom the
healing power of the baptismal water is founded upon the sufferings of
Christ.58 The author of the epistle of Barnabas is also aware of the
profound connexion between the Cross and baptism; through the latter,
the redemption by Jesus Christ becomes applicable to man, for it brings
forgiveness of his sins.59 Hermas also is convinced of this; the question
of the meaning and effect of baptism is one with which he is much
preoccupied. According to him it is the foundation of the Christian’s life;
“he plunges as a dead man into the water and emerges from it a living
man”. 60 In baptism Christians receive the seal of the Son of God, without
which there is no salvation; only this sealing makes a man a disciple of
Christ. It unites all who receive it in one Spirit, in faith and love, and it
admits them into the kingdom of God, into the fellowship of the Church.61
This seal can indeed be broken, the gifts conveyed by baptism can be
lost; therefore every baptized person has a moral obligation “to keep the
seal intact”. 62
Statements about the Eucharist in the writings of the post-apostolic age6
66 See T. Klausner, “Pisciculi” in Festschrift F. J. Dolger (Munster 1939), 157-60.

57 Didache, 9, 5.
58 Ignatius, Polyc. 6, 2; Eph. 18, 2.
59 Ps.-Barnabas, Ep. 11, 1, 8.
60 Hermas, Past. Simil. 9,16, 4.
81 Past. Simil. 9, 17, 4; 9, 16, 3; Vis. 3, 3,10; 8, 2, 2-4.
62 Past. Simil. 8, 6, 3; thus also 2 Clem 8:6; cf. F. J. Dolger, Sphragis (Paderborn 1911),
70-73.
143
are rarer and more restrained. It was celebrated on the Lord’s Day.
According to the Didache, it is a sacrifice the purity of which can be
endangered by sin; therefore Christians ought to confess their sins before
its celebration. Moreover, he who lives unreconciled to his neighbour ought
not to take part in the eucharistic celebration.03 The Eucharist has been given
to Christians as food and drink which are above all earthly nourishment,
for it gives eternal life through Jesus.84 Ignatius of Antioch sees the
Eucharist as a bond uniting all who believe in Christ. For the individual
it is an elixir of life, an antidote against death, because it nourishes life in
Christ and so guarantees resurrection to eternal life.65 The man who excludes
himself from it, because he will not confess “that it is the flesh of our
Saviour Jesus Christ”, lives under the threat of death.66 Just as the Eucharist
joins the individual to Christ, so it unites all the faithul among themselves,
since they all partake of one flesh and one chalice at one altar.67 But it can
effect this unity only when celebrated in the presence of the rightful bishop
or his delegate; “if a man is not within the sanctuary, he must refrain from
the bread of God.” 68 Eucharistic communion not only symbolizes the unity
of the Church, it also creates it.
The outstanding feature of post-apostolic piety is its christo-centricity.
The will of Christ is the norm for the moral life of Christians, his command
ments govern their behaviour; the Son of God himself is now the Law.69
Christ’s life has become the model which his faithful follow, the imitation
of Christ the basis of Christian piety,70 which sees in martyrdom its noblest
proof.71 Certainly the Christian knew that behind the will of Christ there
was the will of the Father; but this was revealed in the example of Jesus
Christ, and he who followed it came to the Father or lived in the Father.
Life in Christ and the imitation of him represented an ideal towards
which all indeed were to strive, but which many Christians failed to attain.
Hence the admonitions of the bishops, who were constantly calling upon
their congregations to imitate God and his Son. The failure of such
Christians faced the young Church with a problem that found its expression
83 Didache, 14, 12.

64 Didache 10, 3 can hardly be understood as referring to Christian truth as such, as
thanks have already been given for that in 10, 2. The eucharistic character of the prayers
in Didache 9 and 10 being by no means certain, they cannot be taken into consideration
here.
65 Eph. 20, 2; Smyrn. 18, 2.
86 Smyrn. 7, 1.
87 Phil. 4.
88 Eph. 5, 2.
69 1 Clem 3:4; Polyc., Phil. 4, 1; Ignatius, Magn. 13, 1; 2 Clem 3:4 f.; Hermas, Past. Simil.
8, 3, 2.
70 1 Clem 16:17; 33:7, 8; Polyc., Phil. 10, 1; Ignatius, Eph. 10, 3; Ttall. 2, 1.
71 Ignatius, Rom. 4, 2; 5, 3; 6, 3.
144
with some asperity in the Shepherd of Hermas. Most of the members of the
Roman congregation had indeed remained faithful to the obligation of their
baptism, and some had distinguished themselves in persecution as confessors
or m artyrs;72 but others had been unable to bear this trial. They had
vacillated, full of fear, considering whether to deny or to confess, and only
after lengthy hesitation had they decided to suffer for the Christian name.
In the face of a threatening new persecution, certain Christians seemed likely
to adopt a similar wavering and timorous attitude.73
Besides this lack of hope and courage in the hour of danger, Hermas saw
other failings in the Roman church. Tepidity and slackness had become
widespread, because the desire for possessions and riches had seduced many
from the practice of religion, and they lived the same kind of life as the
pagans. For them persecution constituted the greatest danger, since they
preferred earthly possessions to loyalty towards their Lord.74 Another evil
that was rife among the Roman congregation was ambition and striving
after the first places, with regrettable consequences for the peace and unity
of the faithful. The elders and deacons especially were liable to such
rivalry.75
Did there exist a possibility of atoning for such grave failings, or had the
offenders finally forfeited their salvation? The Shepherd tells Hermas that
it would be in conformity with the Christian ideal if baptism remained the
only way of forgiving sin; some teachers had made this a law. But God
grants to all those who have fallen another chance to repent, for he knows
to what trials man is subject on account of his frailty and the wiles of the
Devil. However, if a man falls again and again, and every time wishes to
atone by repentance, he is not to entertain any deceptive hopes: his salvation
is in jeopardy.76 There was evidently an opinion that repeated repentance
was possible. Between this and the rigid doctrine mentioned above, Hermas
desires to show a middle way, but like an anxious preacher he stresses with
great earnestness that after this second opportunity of atonement has been
granted, the forgiveness thus won must not again be imperilled at any price,
all the more so as the “building of the tower” will soon be finished. Hermas
therefore bases the impossibility of further repentance on eschatological
grounds; soon the Church would be complete, and he who did not then
find himself inside the tower, who did not belong as a pure member to the
Church, could not be saved.77 Hermas does not discuss the problem of the
unforgivability of certain sins; but the question of repentance was already
72 Hermas, Past. Simil. 8,1, 16.

78 Ibid. Simil. 9, 23, 2-5.
74 Ibid. 8, 8,1; 9,1; 9, 20, 1.
75 Ibid. 3,9, 7; 8, 7, 4; 9, 26, 2.
76 Past. Mandat. 4, 3.
77 Past. Vis. 3, 5, 5.
145
a burning one about the year 140. The Shepherd gives us an instructive
glimpse of the discussion it raised in the Roman congregation. In the third
century it was to be taken up again on a broader basis and with louder
repercussions.
C h a p t e r 10
The Development of the Church's Organization
I n comparison with the development of theology in the post-apostolic age,

progress in completing the ecclesiastical organization in that period was far
more extensive and significant. The links which bound the constitution of
the post-apostolic Church to the organization of the Pauline community
were still indeed apparent; but everywhere a further development from the
early beginnings is observable, leading to more highly organized forms both
within the individual congregation and in the Church as a whole. This fact
gives the post-apostolic age of the Church a special importance.
First of all, the individual congregation is more clearly defined as regards
its significance and function as part of the Church’s organism. The
Christians of a city were now everywhere joined together in separate
congregations or local churches. The church of God, dwelling far away in
Rome, greets the church of God in Corinth; Ignatius addresses his letters
to clearly defined local churches, to those of Ephesus and Magnesia, to the
church which, in the territory of the Romans, stands first; the congregation
of Smyrna sends to the church of God in Philomelion an account of the
martyrdom of its bishop, Polycarp.78 This joining together of the followers
of Christ in a city to form a single congregation differs markedly from the
organization of contemporary Judaism in the Diaspora, which had several
synagogues in the same place, several congregations but smaller groups.79
There was no Christian that did not belong to such a local congregation.
H e joined with all his brethren in the eucharistic celebration, at which the
unity of the post-apostolic congregation is most clearly apparent. Ignatius
of Antioch unwearyingly proclaims this unity, which he seeks to explain
by various images and comparisons: the congregation is like a choir whose
singers praise the Lord with one voice, or like a company of travellers
following the directions of its Lord. For the author of the first letter of
Clement the unity of the congregation is symbolized by the harmony of the
78 1 Clem prooem.; the inscriptiones of the letters of Ignatius and the Martyrium Poly
carpi.
78 Cf. for Rome J. B. Frey, “Le judaisme d Rome aux premiers temps de I’eglise” in
Biblica 12 (1931), 129-56.
1 46
DEVELOPMENT OF THE CHURCH’S ORGANIZATION
universe or by the arrangement of the human body, in which each member

has its appropriate function. Hermas sees it in the image of a tower built
upon the cornerstone that is Christ.80
This vital, compact unity of the congregation was a possession to be
constantly guarded, for it could be dangerously threatened by the tendency
to disputatiousness and petty jealousy which led to divisions in the
community, or by self-will in interpreting Christ’s teaching. Schism and
heresy were therefore regarded as the great enemies of unity in the early
Church, even though they were not as sharply distinguished from one
another as in later times. There is hardly a written work of the post-
apostolic period which does not mention the schismatic tendencies which
appeared now here, now there; it was not always a definite splitting away
hardening into irreconcilability, but often ambition, jealousy, or back
biting, which created a climate of dissatisfaction against which the Didache
and pseudo-Barnabas gave warning, but which was also present in the
Roman congregation at the time of Hermas.81 More serious was the situation
at Corinth, a congregation formerly distinguished by its spirit of brother
hood; although we cannot discover all the details of the events at Corinth,
the epistle from Rome attributed to jealousy the deep division which had
caused once leading members of the congregation to be removed from
office — jealousy, which was the root of so many evils in the religious past
of Israel and also even at that early date in the young Christian Church.
The Roman congregation was profoundly grieved by these happenings and
condemned them severely.82
To the apostolic fathers, the danger of heresy was even greater. As the
pastoral and Johannine epistles had had to warn against heretical falsification
of Christian doctrine, so it was also Asiatic Christianity in particular that
was exposed to danger from heretical groups in post-apostolic times. Ignatius
of Antioch directed his attack against spokesmen of Docetism, who said
that Christ had not possessed a real body and asserted that the Jewish
Law was still valid. There was only one attitude for members of the
Christian community to adopt towards them, and that was strict avoidance
of all association with them and a closer drawing together of the faithful
among themselves, not only in Antioch, but also in Smyrna, Philadelphia,
and Philippi. In Rome, too, Hermas knew of attempts to introduce strange
doctrines.83 The leaders of the Church organized the campaign against
heresy with exhortations and with warnings to other congregations, almost
80 Ignatius, Magn. 7, 1-2; Eph. 9, 2; Philad. 1, 2; Rom. 2, 2; 1 Clem 19:2-3; 20:1-4, 9-11;
37:5; Hermas, Past. Vis. 3 and Past. Simil. 9.
81 Didache, 4, 3; Ps.-Barnabas, Ep. 19, 12; Hermas, Past. Simil. 8, 7, 4, Past. Vis. 3, 9,
7-10
82 1 Clem 4:1-7; 5-6; 54:1-2.
83 Ignatius, Smyrn. 4, 1; Philad. 6, 2; Polyc. 7, 1; 6, 3; Hermas, Past. Simil. 8, 6, 5.
147
in the same way as they would soon have to do, with all energy, in
opposing Gnosticism.
According to what is perhaps the oldest document of the post-apostolic
period, the letter of the church of Rome to that of Corinth, the leaders of
the congregation were divided into two groups: one bore the double
designation of elders (presbyters, 7tpe<T[3uTepoi.) and overseers (episcopi,
i7d<rxo7rot),the other was represented by the deacons (Siaxovot). 84 At the end
of the post-apostolic age we also meet in the Shepherd of Hermas the two
names overseers or elders for the holders of leading offices in the Church,
deacons and teachers being mentioned as well.8485 The Didache names only
overseers and deacons, Polycarp on the other hand only elders and deacons.86
Only the letters of Ignatius distinguish clearly between the three offices of
overseers, elders and deacons. Every congregation had only one overseer or
bishop, to whom the college of elders (priests) and deacons was subordi
nate. 87
In Antioch and in a number of congregations in Asia Minor there existed
therefore in the second decade of the second century a monarchical
episcopate: the government of the church was assigned to one bishop,
whereas elsewhere both previously and subsequently, this development was
not complete, or at least our sources do not confirm that it was. The one
office, which in apostolic times bore the double designation of episcop or
presbyter, was divided into two and the term overseer or bishop reserved
exclusively for the holder of the highest office in the congregation. The
sources do not make it possible for us to follow the phases of this
development, nor do they tell us if it took place everywhere in the same
way. Soon after 150 the monarchical episcopate seems to have generally
prevailed throughout the area of Christian expansion.
The apostolic fathers also partly worked out a theology of ecclesiastical
offices, the authority of which is ultimately derived from God. He sent
Jesus Christ, who gave the apostles the commission to proclaim the Gospel;
they, in accordance with this commission, appointed overseers and deacons,
whose places were to be taken at their death by other approved men who
would continue their work among the faithful. Thus Clement of Rome88
regarded the authority of heads of congregations as based upon Christ’s
commission to the apostles, from whom all power of government in
Christian communities must be derived by uninterrupted succession.
Ignatius further developed the theology of the episcopate in another
direction; he was the most eloquent advocate of the complete and
84 1 Clem 44:2-6.
85 Hermas, Past. Vis. 2, 4, 2-3; 3, 5, 1; Past. Simil. 9, 26, 2; 9, 27, 2.
86 Didache 15, 1; Polyc., Phil. 5, 3; 11, 1.
87 Ignatius, Magn. 2, 1; 6, 1; Philad. 4; 1, 2; Smyrn. 8, 1; 12, 2; Trail. 2, 2-3; Polyc. 1, 2.
88 1 Cor 42; 44: 1-3.
148
DEVELOPMENT OF THE CHURCH’S ORGANIZATION
unconditional bond of union between bishop and congregation. The latter

was one with its bishop in thought and prayer; only with him did it celebrate
agape and Eucharist. Its members should follow him in obedience as Christ
did the Father; nothing should take place in the congregation without the
bishop. Even the administration of baptism and the performance of marriage
ceremonies were reserved to him.80 Presbyters and deacons had a share in
his authority; the faithful were to obey the presbyters as the apostles, and
in the deacons they were to honour the law of G od.890 The bishop could
demand such an attitude from his people only because he represented Christ
to them; he who, like the teachers of false doctrines, rejected the authority
of the bishops was a rebel against the Lord, who was the actual if invisible
bishop of every congregation.91 The office-holders for their part saw their
mission wholly in the light of its supernatural origin and were conscious
that in the fulfilment of their task they were guided by the Spirit. Ignatius
felt himself thus guided when he urged the Philadelphians to be in agreement
with their bishop and presbyters; he was conscious of being the possessor of
heavenly mysteries, he knew things visible and invisible. To Polycarp of
Smyrna the manner of his death was supernaturally revealed; the Spirit
moved Clement of Rome to address his admonition to the Corinthians.92
Two factors then worked together in order that the bishop and his
assistants might fulfill their official duty: the apostolic, that is, God-given
origin of their authority, and guidance through the divine Spirit. Thus
supported, they conducted the eucharistic celebration, presided at the agape,
proclaimed the true doctrine and were guarantors of the purity of the
Gospel, guardians of the apostolic traditions.
The working of the Holy Spirit was not, however, limited to the leaders
of the congregation; it could be felt everywhere among the faithful.
Clement of Rome saw in the faith, the wisdom and the chastity of the
Corinthians special graces from the Spirit, which were shared by the
congregations of Magnesia, Ephesus and Smyrna.93 Individual members
of such congregations claimed to possess very special gifts, like Hermas or
the author of the epistle of Barnabas, who speaks of a deep “insight”
which he was able to transmit only in p art.94 Charismatic gifts were there
fore also present in post-apostolic times, and there were also, as in the
earlier period, similar tensions between those of the laity who were favoured
by the Spirit and the leaders of the community. This is especially apparent
in the Didache, which gives to the “prophets” a special rank. They appear
89 Ignatius, Eph. 4, 1; 5, 2; Polyc. 5, 2; Trail. 7, 1-2.

90 Idem, Smyrn. 8, 1-2.
91 Trail. 1,1; 2,1; A/*gn. 3, 2.
92 Philad. 7,1-2; Eph. 20, 2; Martyr. Polyc. 5, 2.
98 1 Clem 28:1-2; 48:5; Ignat., Magn. 14, 1; Eph. 9, 1-2; Smyrn. inscr.
94 Ps.-Barnabas, Ep. 1, 4-5; Hermas, Past. Vis. 5, 5-7; Past. Simil. 9, 331.
149
as teachers, they devote themselves to the service of the poor and they have
to “give thanks” ; they therefore have a particular role in the assemblies.
But they had to prove before the congregation their claim to special gifts;
for there were false prophets who did not preach the truth and were out to
make money. Recognition was due to the tried and true prophet; he was
above criticism, to submit him to judgment would have been to sin against
the Lord.95 One has the impression that the editor of the Didache is here
fighting for a prophetic ideal which was sinking in general esteem, no doubt
in favour of the “teacher”, whose suitability had to be strictly examined.
Hermas, the author of the Shepherd, was a prophet of the Roman church
to whom were vouchsafed many visions which he had to make known to
the faithful. They concerned the single important subject of repentance, and
he sought to win over to his point of view the presbyters, the official leaders
of the congregation. Hermas claimed no teaching authority to which the
heads of the congregation were obliged to submit; when he stepped forward
in the assembly he was received with respect, for the Spirit spoke through
him. That the Spirit did speak through him, it was the business of the
authorities to make sure. Hermas knew too that there were false prophets
who were known by their works.96 In the case of Hermas there was clearly
no rivalry between the possessor of special gifts and the office-holders;
harmony seems to have been established and their respective tasks
recognized. A few decades later Montanism was to bring prophecy once
more into the foreground and compel the ecclesiastical authorities to take
up a definite position.
The congregation of post-apostolic times did not however exist in isolation
and self-sufficiency. It knew itself to be linked with all the others and
united in one organism, through which flowed a supernatural principle of
life: Christ the Lord. All the congregations together formed a new people,
the universal Church, which was made manifest in every individual
congregation. All nations were to recognize that Christians were “the
people of God and the sheep of his pasture” ;97 under the banner of Christ
the faithful, both Jews and Gentiles, were united in one body, the Church of
Christ; 98 all who had received the seal were one in the same faith, in the
same love;99 Christ had given his flesh for his new people.100 Ignatius of
Antioch was the first to call this international community of the faithful
“the Catholic Church”, whose invisible bishop was Christ.101 Its catholicity
95 Didache, 10, 7; 11, 3, 7-11; 13; 15, 1-2.
98 Hermas, Past. Mand. 11, 1-14, on which see G. Bardy, La theologie de Veglise de
S. Clement de Rome a S. Irenee (Paris 1947), 140-3.
97 1 Clem 60:4.
98 Ignat., Smyrn. 1, 2.
99 Hermas, Past. Simil. 9,17.
169 Ps.-Barnabas, Ep.7, 5.
101 Ignat., Smyrn. 8, 2.
15 0
DEVELOPMENT OF THE CHiJRCH’s ORGANIZATION
was such a striking characteristic that by its presence the true Church could
be recognized.102
The Christian experienced the unity and catholicity of his Church in
many ways in his daily life. N ot only was the missionary welcomed like
a brother when he met some of the faithful in a city; the bishop, priest, or
deacon who brought a message, even the simple Christian whose business
took him to foreign parts — they were all received with brotherly
hospitality wherever there was a group of Christians.103 An active corre
spondence between one congregation and another kept alive the conscious
ness of belonging to a great universal community. News was exchanged,
joys and sorrows shared; long journeys were even undertaken in order that
important questions of a religious nature might be discussed in common.104
The inner unity of the universal Church was assured by other
powerful ties. Christians sought to maintain religious unity by a rule of
faith which, beginning with simple forms, gradually acquired more precise
and definite expression;105 it was in essential points the same everywhere
and was impressed upon all Christians at baptism. Unity of worship was
established in the celebration of the Eucharist, which did indeed show
local variations in form and in the text of many prayers, but which was
essentially the same central act of the Christian liturgy, so that Bishop
Polycarp of Smyrna in Asia Minor could celebrate it also in the church of
Rome. 106 Unity in faith and worship was further preserved by the fact that
the tradition of the Church was always the standard to be followed. For
here no novelty of human origin could or should be admitted; loyalty to
tradition was a prerequisite for the preservation of the truths of the faith
and the unity of worship. With striking frequency we find the apostolic
fathers, even at this early date, invoking tradition, which was looked upon
as a legacy from the apostles and therefore inalterable.107 Unity in belief,
worship and apostolic tradition could ultimately be guaranteed only by
him who was their Lord and protector, Christ; therefore the Church turned
to him in prayer, imploring him to gather together the people of God from
the ends of the earth, to bring them to unity and to preserve them in it.108
Even though the bishop’s sphere of activity was his own congregation,
he was not exempt from all responsibility for the Church as a whole. It was
not only a feeling of solidarity with the faithful of other congregations
102 The development of this idea is already indicated in Martyr. Polyc. 16, 226.
103 Didache 11, 1-10; 13, 1-4; Hermas, Past. Simil. 8, 10, 3; 9, 27, 2.
104 1 Clem 55:1; Ignat., Eph. 1, 3; 2, 1; Magn. 2, 1; Trail. 1, 1.
105 We already find in Ignatius, Smyrn. 1 , 1-2; Trail. 9, forms which show a marked
development compared with those of the N. T.
106 Euseb. HE 5, 24, 17.
107 Especially Papias in Euseb. HE 5, 20.
108 Didache 9, 4; 10, 5; 1 Clem 59:2; Ignat. Eph. 4, 1-2.
151
that prompted bishops like Ignatius and Polycarp to address to them words
of encouragement or rebuke; they acted thus from a sense of duty. There
was, indeed, no bishop of the post-apostolic age who intervened in the affairs
of other local churches with the same authority as in his own congregation,
or could give instructions to the whole Church. Even Clement of Rome
was too much of a background figure, as compared with the Roman church
as such, to make it possible for us to attribute to him, on the strength of his
epistle to the church of Corinth, a right to admonish, in the sense of a
primacy, supported by a special authority. Rather was it the Roman
congregation as such that made a claim exceeding the limits of brotherly
solidarity. There are no grounds for supposing that Rome’s advice had been
asked for; the Roman letter seeks to re-establish peace by admonition and
counsel, though sometimes its language takes on a more decisive, almost
threatening tone that seems to expect obedience.109 Noteworthy too is the
respect which Clement’s first epistle gained in Corinth and in the rest of
the Church during the period immediately following, so that it was some
times regarded as inspired scripture.110 This implies the existence in the
consciousness of non-Roman Christians of an esteem of the Roman church
as such which comes close to according it a precedence in rank. It is
especially noticeable in Ignatius’ letter to the Romans. Its enthusiastic
introduction is unique when we compare it with the prefaces to his other
letters; the accumulation of honorific and fulsomely respectful epithets is
hardly to be explained by personal temperament or by the purpose of the
letter alone. In obvious allusion to the epistle to the Corinthians, the letter
states that the Roman congregation acted as teacher to others.111 Ignatius
does not however mention the Bishop of Rome, and his words about the
precedence of Rome in charity112 (i.e. in charitable activities) can in no
way be understood in the sense that any special personal dignity was
accorded to its bishop.
In conclusion it may be added that the stream of Christians coming from
elsewhere to Rome indicates a special attraction of that church which
cannot be explained solely by the fact that Rome was the capital of the
empire. Orthodox Christians, as well as adherents or founders of sectarian
and heretical movements (we need merely mention Polycarp of Smyrna,
Justin, and Hegesippus, and the Gnostics Valentinus, Cerdon, and Marcion),
sought support or recognition at Rome which would count as legitimation
in their own country. This fact also is evidence of the precedence allowed
to the church of Rome.
109 1 Clem 57:1-2; 59:1-2.

110 G. Bardy, op. cit. 112 f.
111 Ignat., Rom. 3, 1.
112 Ignat., Rom. inscr.
152
C hapter 11
Heterodox Jewish-Christian Currents
Q u i t e early there developed alongside the orthodox Jewish Christianity

of the Jerusalem community and of the post-apostolic period, other Jewish
groups which took over Christian elements in doctrine and worship. But,
in contrast with genuine Jewish Christianity, they transformed these
elements and thereby separated themselves from it as well as from post-
biblical Judaism. With the latter, however, they shared the main ideas of
late Jewish apocalyptic literature, and they recognized the Mosaic Law. It
seems indeed not impossible that Jewish sectaries, who already had reli
gious practices different from official Judaism,113 borrowed Christian
elements and thus emphasized their differences. Their separation from
orthodox Jewry was not so much the result of changes in religious practice
as of fundamentally different doctrines. These were concentrated on two
main questions: Christology and the binding force of the Mosaic Law.
The latter question was, as we have seen, a cause of considerable conflict in
the congregations founded by Paul and was bound sooner or later to lead to
the disavowal of the “judaizers” by the Church, if they insisted on imposing
observance of the Law upon Gentile Christians as necessary to salvation.
Evidently it came to a separation soon after the death of James, when the
judaizing group endeavoured to set up their candidate, Thebutis, against
the lawfully elected successor of James, Simeon.114 The emigration of the
orthodox Jewish Christians to the region east of the Jordan and their
consequent dispersion in Coelesyria weakened their inner cohesion and
rendered them more open to the influence of Jewish sectaries. For the Church
as a whole, however, the christological question grew more and more
important and became a criterion of orthodoxy for individual Jewish
Christians and Jewish-Christian congregations.
The Christology of Kerinthos115 was, for orthodox Jewish Christians,
a ground for bitterly opposing him. His character and doctrine have indeed
been distorted by the addition of fantastic and legendary features, notably
by Epiphanios;116 but Irenaeus, with his connexions with Asia Minor, may
well be reporting what is essentially correct when he states that Kerinthos
lived towards the end of the first century in western Asia Minor, and that
he asserted of Jesus that the latter was the natural son of Mary and Joseph.
115 Cf. M. Black, “The Patristic Accounts of Jewish Sectarianism” in BJRL 41 (1959,
302.
114 Hegesippus in Euseb. HE 4, 22, 4-5.
115 For Cerinthus, see G. Bardy, RB 30 (1921), 344-73; W. Bauer, RGG, 3rd ed. I, 1963.
116 Epiphanius, Panar. 28, 5.
153
As Jesus had distinguished himself above all other men by his justice and
wisdom, Christ in the form of a dove had descended upon him after his
baptism; from then on he had proclaimed the hitherto unknown Father
and performed miracles. Before the end, Christ had again left him; only
Jesus suffered death and rose again.117
This image of Christ, tinged with Adoptionism and Docetism, was bound
to be unacceptable to the Christians of Asia Minor; an indication of this
is to be seen in the curious note of Irenaeus that the apostle John was
prompted to write his Gospel by the teachings of Kerinthos. Kerinthos also
had Gnostic ideas, for according to Irenaeus, he distinguished the “highest
God” from the creator of the world, who did not know the former.
Eusebius118 says moreover that Kerinthos favoured a crude form of
chiliasm which may have had its origin among the Jewish sects. He does
not seem to have gained a large following; the statements of Epiphanios,
who speaks of a sect of Kerinthians, are open to question.
The Jewish-Christian group that in Irenaeus goes by the name of
Ebionites was, however, a considerable movement. Early Christian
heresiologists derive this name from a person called Ebion, but it is more
probable that it comes from the Hebrew word *ebjon (poor). The adherents
of this movement would, then, have seen in the name a descriptive desig
nation which referred to their simple way of life. Perhaps the Ebionites
were, in the beginning, orthodox Jewish Christians, who, so far as they
personally were concerned, had remained faithful to the Law. There would
then be much in favour of the assumption that they were originally
successors to those members of the primitive Church who settled beyond
the Jordan and in Coelesyria. Later, however, they began to propound
views on christology and on the binding nature of the Mosaic Law which
were heterodox and led to their breaking away from the Church. A clue
to the date of their separation is perhaps to be found in Justin M artyr,119
who distinguishes two groups of Jewish Christians: those who saw in Jesus
a mere man, and those who acknowledged him as the Messiah and Son of
God. The separation between heretical and orthodox Ebionites must there
fore have taken place about the year 150.
Among the writings of the Ebionites, a Gospel of their own must first
be mentioned. It was probably the Gospel of Matthew, revised in an
Ebionite sense; Epiphanios has preserved fragments of it.120 Ebionite ideas
are also to be found in a treatise dating from the first half of the second
century, containing the “Sermons of Peter”, rewritten by the editor of the
pseudo-Clementines. An Ebionite theological writer, known to us by name,
1,7 Irenaeus, Adv. haer. 1, 26, 1; 3, 34; 3, 11, 1.

118 Euseb. HE 3, 28, 4. 119 Justin, Dial. 47-48.
120 Epiphanius, Panar. 30, 3, 13; cf. Hennecke-Schneemelcher, I 3rd ed., 75-108.
154
HETERODOX JEWISH-CHRISTIAN CURRENTS
is the translator of the Bible, Symmachus, whose various works on the

Scriptures were extant in the time of Origen.121
N o uniform picture can be given of the subsequent history of the
Ebionite movement. Both in the attitude towards Christ and in the degree of
importance attached to the Law and to sacrifices, there were different
tendencies and shades of opinion. Some of the Ebionites accepted Gnostic
ideas and indulged in bizarre speculations. The following characteristics
are typical of the Ebionite movement in so far as it was heterodox. In their
concept of the origin of the world the Ebionites took a dualistic view. God,
in the beginning, set up a good and an evil principle: to the latter was
given dominion over the present world; to the former, dominion over that
which is to come. The good principle is Christ, the promised messianic
prophet. Jesus of Nazareth was consecrated by God as Messiah and
supplied on the day of his baptism in the Jordan with divine power. He was
not the existing Son of God, but the naturally begotten son of a human
couple, raised to the rank of Messiah because of his exemplary fulfilment
of the Law of God. He was, besides, the “true prophet”, who had already
appeared in Adam and Moses, each time with a special mission, and who
as Jesus was to bring the Jews back to the pure observance of the Law and
to win the Gentiles for God.122 This task he was to fulfill by preaching the
word of God, not, therefore, by an extraordinary act of salvation, nor by
dying for man’s redemption. The Ebionites rejected belief in his redemptive
death, as Christ had withdrawn himself from Jesus at the time of the
crucifixion. The Ebionite image of Christ is thus essentially conditioned
by its adoptionist character and by its denial of the soteriological signifi
cance of his life and death.
Joined to this christology was the Ebionites’ demand for observance of
the Law, which was, it is true, to be purged of its distortions. Such, for
instance, were the false pericopes which had been later added to the Law
of Moses, and above all the bloody sacrifices which represented a falsification
of the divine will. This reform of the Law had been effected by Jesus in his
teaching; he had shown what was genuine in the Law and in conformity
with the will of God, and what contradicted it. He had rejected every
form of worship by sacrifices, and therefore his death too had not the
character of a sacrifice. Sacrifices were replaced by a life of poverty and
community of goods; the Ebionite purified himself by daily washings, by
participation in a ritual meal of bread and water, and by celebrating both
Sabbath and Sunday.
Together with their esteem for the Mosaic Law and their rejection of
the soteriological significance of Christ’s death, the Ebionites also showed
121 Euseb. HE 6,17.

122 L. Cerfaux, “Le vrai prophete des Clementines” in RSR 18 (1928), 143-63.
155
a certain “anti-Paulinism, expressed particularly in the “Kerygmata Petrou”

an Ebionite treatise of the first half of the second century which influenced
the pseudo-Clementines. According to it, Paul was the great opponent of
the Law, “the hostile man”, who falsified the true ideas of Jesus. The
Ebionites did not accept his elevation to the rank of apostle, for this
dignity belonged only to those who had personal acquaintance with Jesus,
whereas Paul’s vocation rested upon visions and revelations that were
nothing more than illusions inspired by devils. Here the Ebionites may be
said to represent the heirs of those judaizers who appear in Paul’s epistles
as opponents of his missionary activity. The “Kerygmata Petrou” also
shows an anti-Trinitarian tendency and rejects the Trinitarian inter
pretation of some Old Testament passages usual in Christian circles.
Recently, certain common features shared by Ebionites, Essenes and
Qumran Jews have been pointed out.123 These are especially evident in
their attitude towards the Temple, its priesthood and the bloody sacrifices.
Thus the Ebionite movement may have been part of a larger current of
opinion, which in its extreme forms broke altogether with the official
worship of the Temple. The originality of the Ebionites would then have
lain in the evaluation they set upon the person of Christ.
Close to the Ebionites stood other Jewish-Christian groups which, on
account of certain opinions held by them, can likewise not be regarded as
belonging to orthodox Christianity. First, there was the sect of the
Elcbasaites, which, by the third century, had spread to some extent. It was
founded by a man named Elchasai, who was active on the borders of
Syria and Parthia during the early decades of the second century. This sect
sent out missionaries and gained adherents in the East as far as the Euphrates
and Tigris. It had considerable success in Palestine, and, through Alcibiades
of Apamea, it even tried to get a footing in Rome at the time of Hippolytus.
Its message was based upon a holy book to which a supernatural origin was
ascribed. In it, two heavenly beings played a principal part, a female one,
called the Holy Spirit, and a male one, the Son of God or Christ, who came
into the world in repeated incarnations. The sect practised a baptism, fully
clothed, which was believed to effect forgiveness of sins, as well as frequent
washings, which delivered from sickness and defects.124 The foundation
of the Elchasaites’ way of life was the Law. Circumcision, observance of
the Sabbath, and praying towards Jerusalem were obligatory. They disap
proved, however, of the Old Testament sacrifices, as well as of certain
parts of the Scriptures; Paul they emphatically rejected. The prophecy of
an approaching great war, that would usher in the end of the world, shows
123 O. Cullmann, “Die neuentdeckten Qumrantexte und das Judenchristentum der

Ps.-Klementinen” in Festschrift R. Bultmann (Berlin), 68-86.
124 E. Peterson, Friihkirche, Judentum und Gnosis (Freiburg i. Br. 1959), 221-35.
156
HETERODOX JEWISH-CHRISTIAN CURRENTS
apocalyptic traits; he who, when the time came, was in possession of a

mysterious formula would be saved. The teaching of the holy book of
Elchasai was to be kept secret since not all were worthy of it.
The question as to the original source of Elchasaitism cannot be definitely
answered from the evidence at present available. Jewish elements were
clearly present; and Christian influences, such as the baptismal formula
and a vision of Christ, said to have been enjoyed by Elchasai, are easily
recognizable. But the treatment of Christ as a mere man and a simple
prophet shows the Christianity of the movement to have been undoubtedly
heterodox. Gnostic elements also point in the same direction; among these
may be mentioned the repeated incarnations of Christ, the concept of a
“highest God” and the use made of magical formulas.
The sect of the Mandaeans can be included here, inasmuch as it was
probably connected originally with heterodox Jewish baptist sects which
had grown up in eastern Syria and Palestine. Baptism played a predominant
part in their worship. It was carried out by immersing the candidate thrice
in flowing water, and it could be repeated several times. Great importance
was also attached to the liturgical celebration of the ascent of the souls of
the dead to the realm of light. According to the Mandaean mythology, there
was a great king of light or Great Mana, besides whom there existed
innumerable lesser manas; opposing him was a world of black water
peopled by demons. John the Baptist was highly revered by the Mandaeans,
whereas Jesus was regarded as a false prophet and liar whom John
unmasked. Mandaean influence on Christian baptism cannot be proved; the
ritual of the baptist sects was evidently supplemented by later borrowings
from Nestorian baptismal customs. Other alleged Christian elements in
the Mandaean cult are of secondary importance and recede into the back
ground when compared with the Gnostic, Iranian, and Babylonian
influences (e. g. astrology). That it originally had links with early Jewish
Christianity cannot be assumed.125126The sect, which still survives with a
strength of about 5000 members in the region of the Tigris and Euphrates,
did not develop a literature of its own until the seventh or eighth century.
It regards Judaism, Christianity, and Islam as false religions.
Finally, the influence of heterodox Jewish Christianity in some early
Gnostic groups can be noted, even though the course of these influences
is hard to trace. One cannot indeed speak of a Jewish Gnosis in the strict
sense, for Judaism does not accept radical dualism in the shape of two
original principles of good and evil, equal in rank.120 Some Jewish schools
125 M.-J. Lagrange, “La gnose mand£enne et la tradition £vang£lique” in RB 36 (1927),

321-49, 481-515, 37 (1928), 5-36; H. Lietzmann, “Ein Beitrag zur Mandaerfrage” in
SAB 27 (1930), 596-608.
126 Cf. esp. H. J. Schoeps, Urgemeinde, Judenchristcntum, Gnosis (Tubingen 1956), 37 ff.
157
of thought did preach a relative dualism, accepting a world of angels and

demons subordinate to one God; these governed the destinies of nations
and individuals.127
Such a Gnostic tendency in heterodox Jewish Christianity can be seen in
Samaritan Gnosis, which went back to Simon Magus,128 who was of course
not unfamiliar with Jewish Christianity (Acts, 8:10). Its speculations about
the creation of the world by angels, the battle of these with one another
and the liberation of mankind by the "virtues and powers”, may have
been derived from heterodox Jewish sources. Such views could have come
via Simon’s pupil Menander and the latter’s pupils Saturninus (more
correctly Satornil) and Basilides to Syria and Egypt, and there joined the
Gnostic currents already existing.
The so-called “Apocryphon of John” among the Gnostic writings of
Nag Hammadi, with its interpretation of Genesis and its doctrine of archons
and angels and the part played by them in the Creation, clearly points to
kindred speculations in later heterodox Judaism and in heretical Jewish
Christianity.129 The early Church did not have to engage in controversy
to a great extent with all these heterodox Jewish-Christian schools of
thought, because she did not come into close contact with all of them.
Where, however, such disputes did arise, Christianity had an opportunity
to clarify and affirm its beliefs.
127 K. Schubert, “Problem und Wesen der judischen Gnosis” in Kairos 3 (Salzburg 1961),
2-15.
128 Cf. L. Cerfaux, “La gnose simonienne” in RSR 15 (1925), 480-502, 16 (1926), 5-20,
265-85, 481-503.
129 For details see below, chapter 15.
158
SECTION FOUR
The Church in the Second Century
C h apter 12
The Position of the Church under the Emperors Marcus Aurelius and
Commodus. Martyrdom of the Congregations of Lyons and Vienne
T h e writers of early Christian apologetical works ascribed to the emperor

Marcus Aurelius (161-80) an edict favourable to the Christians, which
Apollinaris of Hierapolis and Tertullian invoked, when they wished to
oppose, as unjust, the proceedings of provincial authorities against the
Christians of their day.1 They saw the explanation of this emperor’s
attitude in the miraculous fall of rain which, it was said, came in answer
to the prayer of a Christian legion and saved the imperial army from
defeat in the war against the Marcomanni.2 It may be that the idea of a
philosopher on the throne, who endeavoured, as ruler, to put the Stoic
ideal into practice, favoured such an estimate of the emperor.
The reality was otherwise. The emperor’s own writings show how
much he despised the Christians in his heart, because (as he believed) they
threw their lives away for an illusion. That he was determined not to let
the State religion be jeopardized by fanatical sectaries and by the
introduction of hitherto unknown cults is shown by a rescript of 176-7,
which was not indeed specially directed against the Christians, but which
could easily be employed against them by provincial authorities.3 Whether
this was so in individual cases cannot be proved, but the increase in the
number of complaints from the Christians during the reign of Marcus
Aurelius, expressed in the apologetical writings of Melito of Sardes,
Apollinaris of Hierapolis, and the Athenian Athenagoras, clearly indicate
a worsening of their situation. Melito drew the emperor’s attention to the
1 Euseb. HE 5, 5,1-7; Tertull., Apol. 5; Scapul. 4.

* W. Zwikker, Studien zur Markussdule (Amsterdam 1941), 206 ff.; J. Guey, “La date
de la ‘Pluie miraculeuse’ (172 apr£s J.-C.) et la colonne aurelienne” in MAH 60 (1948),
105-27, 61 (1949), 93-118.
8 J. Beaujeu, La politique romaine d Vapogee de Vempire I: la politique religieuse des
Antonins (Paris 1955), 356-8.
159
THE CHURCH IN THE SECOND CENTURY
fact that the Christians of Asia Minor were exposed day and night to
plundering and robbery at the hands of people of the baser sort, treatment
such as even hostile barbarian tribes would not be subjected to; their
attackers invoked new decrees, which however the author could not
believe the emperor had issued.4 Athenagoras also complained in his
apologia, addressed to Marcus Aurelius, that the Christians were being
hunted, robbed, and persecuted, and begged him to put an end to the
denunciations of which the Christians were victims.5
That such was the situation is confirmed by a series of individual
martyrdoms in different parts of the empire which can be dated in the
reign of Marcus Aurelius. In Rome the philosopher Justin was the most
notable victim among a group of Christians who were put to death
between 163 and 167 after a trial conducted by the city prefect himself,
Junius Rusticus. Justin’s pupil Tatian seems to attribute part of the
responsibility for the death of these Christians to the intrigues of the
pagan philosopher Crescens.6 The martyrdoms of three bishops in the
East, of which Eusebius gives a reliable account, also belong to the
decade 160-70.7 The execution of Publios, Bishop of Athens, between
161 and 170 is attested by a letter from Bishop Dionysius of Corinth to
the church of Athens. Bishop Sagaris of Laodicea died a martyr’s death
“when Servilius Paulus was proconsul of Asia”, therefore about the
year 164. At the same time Thraseas, Bishop of Eumenia in Phrygia,
probably also met his death; Polycarp of Ephesus informed Pope Victor
that he was buried at Smyrna. There are good reasons for assigning the
martyrdom of a group of Christians from Pergamum to the reign of
Marcus Aurelius; Karpos, Bishop of Thyatira, and a deacon, Papylos, were
there condemned to be burnt at the stake. A Christian woman, Agathonike,
who was present, openly professed her faith and voluntarily threw herself
into the flames.8
The clearest account of the background, circumstances, and course of a
wave of local persecution under Marcus Aurelius is provided by a joint
letter from the Christian communities of Lyons and Vienne in Gaul, in
which they tell their brethren in Asia Minor what befell them in the year
177; Eusebius has included nearly the whole of it in his History of the
4 Euseb. HE 4, 26, 5-6.

6 Athenagoras, Suppl. 1 , 3.
• The Acts of the martyrdom of Justin and his companions are in Knopf-Kriiger,
Ausgewahlte Mdrtyrerakten (Tubingen, 3rd ed. 1929), 15-18, which contains a bibliog
raphy, esp. Delehaye PM 119-21; Tatian, Or. 19, 1.
7 Euseb. HE 4, 23, 2; 4, 26, 3; 5, 24, 4.
8 New revision of the Latin and Greek texts by H. Delehaye in AnBoll 58 (1940), 142-76.
Cf. H. Lietzmann, Festgabe K. Muller (Tubingen 1922), 46-57, and A. M. Schneider in
Jdl (1934), 416 ff.
160
THE CHURCH UNDER MARCUS AURELIUS AND COMMODUS
Church.9 The Bishop of Lyons was then the aged Potheinos, who was
assisted by a priest called Irenaeus; a deacon, Sanctus, belonged to the
congregation of Vienne. A considerable number of the Christians in these
cities came directly or indirectly from Asia Minor, such as, for instance,
the Phrygian physician Alexander or Attalos of Pergamum, who possessed
Roman citizenship. Besides these members of the upper class, the lower
ranks of society, including slaves, were represented in the congregation of
Lyons, in which, on the whole, there was an active religious life.
In the summer of 177, when representatives of all Gaul were assembled
in Lyons for the festival of the imperial cult, the popular rage suddenly
vented itself on the Christians, who were supposed, as elsewhere in the
empire, to be guilty of atheism and immorality. After some initial
vexations (the Christians were forbidden to enter Government buildings
and to walk in public squares) the mob drove a group of them into the
market-place, whence the Roman tribune, after examining them, had them
led off to prison until the absent governor could deal with the matter
personally. A t the inquiry instituted by the latter on his return, a Christian
who had not previously been arrested, Vettius Epagathos, volunteered to
prove before the court that the accusations of crimes against religion and
the State which were made against his brethren were unfounded. As he
confessed, on being questioned by the governor, that he was himself a
Christian, he too was arrested. Statements made by pagan slaves in the
service of Christians accused their masters of heinous crimes; and thus in
a few days the elite of both congregations found themselves in prison.
During the trial, about ten Christians abjured their faith; the remainder
were condemned to death, the execution of the sentence being accompanied
by exquisite torments. Bishop Potheinos died in gaol after brutal ill-
treatment; the others were thrown to wild beasts in the arena.
When the governor heard that Attalos, a distinguished man, was a
Roman citizen, he postponed his execution in order to inquire of the
emperor what line of action he should follow. He was told that
apostates were to be pardoned; those who stood fast in their profession
of Christianity were to be put to death. All proved steadfast, and so the
executions continued. Besides the newly baptized Maturus, the deacon
Sanctus, Attalos, and Alexander, the report specially singles out for
praise the courage of the young girl Blandina and fifteen-year-old
Pontikos. The bodies were not handed over to the families of the
Christians for burial, but after six days they were burnt and the ashes
scattered in the Rhone. The letter gives no exact number of the victims;
only a later tradition mentions about fifty names.
• Euseb. HE 5, 1, 1-2, 8; see H. Quentin, “La liste des martyrs de Lyon” in AnBoll 39
(1921), 113-38.
161
Christians under Marcus Aurelius were not always condemned to death,

but were sometimes sentenced to forced labour in the mines. This appears
from a fragment of a letter quoted by Eusebius which was addressed by
Dionysius of Corinth to the Bishop of Rome, Soter (167-75).10
If we seek the reasons for this obviously increased severity of the Roman
authorities towards the Christians, fresh legal measures on the part of the
emperor cannot indeed be adduced. His decision in reply to the governor’s
inquiry clearly shows that the legal position remained as it appears in
Trajan’s rescript and in the resultant practice under Hadrian. Neither are
there grounds for supposing that the provincial authorities, even though
the legal position remained the same, had been urged from Rome to take
sterner measures. The circumstances of the persecution at Lyons and the
above-mentioned complaints in the writings of the apologists show rather
that it was public opinion under Marcus Aurelius which had become
more unfavourable to the Christians. This hostile atmosphere now found
expression more frequently and more intensively than under Hadrian,
who had still been able to intervene to curb such excesses. If a provincial
governor now gave in to the pressure of popular rage oftener than before,
in Rome also public feeling was taken more into account and was given
an outlet in the baiting of Christians.
The general discontent of the population of the empire under Marcus
Aurelius was fed by various causes. The endless campaigns of that emperor
laid many burdens on the people; the constant threat of hostile invasion
increased the irritation of frontier populations. People were further
aggravated by natural disasters such as the overflowing of the Tiber and
outbreaks of the plague. Pogroms were the almost inevitable result. When
it was noticed, at the ceremonies of propitiation, ordered by the emperor to
avert the pestilence, that the Christians were conspicuously absent, the
popular anger found its obvious outlet.
The Christian communities, for their part, had, albeit unwittingly,
drawn attention to themselves more than usual about that time. The
disputes with the Gnostics in particular congregations could hardly remain
concealed from the pagans around them; even if the latter could not
understand the background to these disputes, the Church’s increased
opposition to pagan culture and the Roman State nevertheless became
apparent. Mention might also be made of the Montanist movement, at
least in certain cases, if the growing irritability of the pagans is to be
understood. The exalted desire for martyrdom that was peculiar to the
Montanists, and their fanatical refusal to have anything to do with the
pagan culture on which the State was based, could easily be attributed
to Christianity as such, with disastrous results. Of course, the fact that
10 Euseb. HE 4, 23,10.
162
THE CHURCH UNDER MARCUS AURELIUS AND COMMODUS
in the congregation of Lyons for instance one member came from Phrygia
is not sufficient to prove that it contained a Montanist group.
The situation did not change under Marcus Aurelius’ son Commodus
(180-92), although it is known that he was personally tolerant towards
individual Christians, some of whom were able to hold influential offices
at his court. Later therefore, Christian writers such as Eusebius11 attributed
to the reign of Commodus a higher rate of conversions. The emperor’s
attitude was partly due to the influence of his wife, Marcia, who
according to Dio Cassius12 had the Christian presbyter, Hyacinth, as her
teacher and was in friendly relations with the church of Rome, although
she cannot necessarily be regarded as having been a baptized Christian.
Thanks to her, Commodus ordered the release of the Christians who had
been condemned to forced labour in the Sicilian mines.13
This emperor did not issue any new instructions for the conduct of the
State authorities towards the adherents of the Christian faith, a fact
proved by isolated trials of Christians during his reign, which can be
understood only in the light of the previously existing practice. The first
extant document of Christian origin in the Latin language14 gives an
account of proceedings against six Christians in the African town of Scili,
who were condemned to death by the proconsul Vigellius Saturninus in
July 180. It may be presumed that these Christians had been denounced
to the Roman authorities, for the proconsul tried to make them renounce
their faith and had them executed only after their refusal to do so. A
denunciation was no doubt also the cause of the trial of the Roman
senator Apollonius in 183-4, which Eusebius relates in an extract from
the original acts of this m artyr.15 The prefect Perennis even canvassed
opinions in the Senate on this case and clearly was very unwilling to
pronounce sentence upon a man of such high rank, doing so only when
the latter obstinately persisted in his profession of faith.
That the representatives of the Roman State did not always act against
Christians in a spirit of brutal fanaticism is also shown by the attitude of the
proconsul Arrius Antoninus, of whom Tertullian relates16 that he once,
when a large group of Christians stood before his tribunal, imprisoned
11 Ibid. 5, 21,1.
12 Dio Cassius, 72; cf. also Irenaeus, Adv. haer. 4,30,46, and Hippolytus, Philosophoumena
9 ,1 1 ,1 2 .
13 See A. Bellucci, “I martiri cristiani ‘damnati ad metalla* nella Spagna e nella Sardegna”
in Asprenas 5 (Naples 1958), 25-46, 125-55; J. G. Davies, “Condemnation to the Mines”
in Univ. of Birmingham Hist. Journal 6 (1958), 99-107.
14 Text in Knopf-Kriiger, op. cit. 28-29; see F. Corsaro, “Note sugli Acta martyrum
Scillitanorum” in Nuovo Didaskaleion (Catania 1956), 5-51.
15 Knopf-Krviger, op. cit. 30-35; see J. Zeiller in RSR 40 (1925), 153-57, and E. Griffe,
BLE 53 (1952), 65-76.
16 Tertullian, Ad Scapul. 5, 1.
163
only a few of them, releasing the others with the words: “You unhappy
wretches, if you wish to die, have you not ropes and precipices enough?”
There are accounts of martyrdoms during this period at Apamea in
Phrygia;17 and Theophilus of Antioch alludes to actual persecutions in
Syria when, at the end of his apologia, he remarks that the Christians
“are subjected to cruel torments even to this hour”. 18 This general formula
implies the continuance of individual martyrdoms, of which, because of
the incompleteness of our sources, we have no exact knowledge.
This survey of the persecution of Christians under the last two
Antonines shows clearly that the attitude of the Roman State towards
Christianity, which had been developed under Trajan, still existed; Chris
tians were brought to judgment only when they had been denounced as
such to the authorities, but profession of the Christian faith sufficed
for their condemnation, proof of other crimes not being required. For
these reasons, we have only sporadic evidence that trials of Christians
took place; under Marcus Aurelius they were forced upon the authorities
more than before by a public opinion that had grown more hostile and
often expressed itself in riotous behaviour. The cause of this attitude was
the increased nervousness of the pagan population. The situation is
reflected in the growing apologetical literature of the second half of the
century, which will be dealt with more fully later.
C h apter 13
Literary Polemic against Christianity
T he animosity of the pagans which we have described, with its explosions

of popular anger and the action taken by the State authorities in conse
quence, brought the Christians more and more into the public eye,
especially during the first half of the second century. Accordingly, there
developed a new reaction of paganism against Christianity, this time
on the intellectual plane. A will to resist arose in pagan intellectual circles.
The resources of profane culture were employed in the battle against
Christianity. Mocking speeches, pamphlets, and books became the means
of carrying on a literary war, which began about the middle of the
second century and soon reached its first climax in the satirical writings
of Lucian of Samosata and in the “True Doctrine” ( ’AXt)0y)<; Xoyo?) of
the philosopher Celsus.
17 Euseb. HE 5,16, 22.

18 Theophilus, Ad Autol. 3, 30.
16 4
LITERARY POLEMIC AGAINST CHRISTIANITY
This was of great significance for the history of the Church, because it
was one of the factors that provoked a reaction from the Christian side;
the Christians took up the pen and adopted an attitude of defence and
counter-attack. The resultant body of apologetical works became a special
department of early Christian literature, giving a characteristic note
to the second half of the second century.
The first beginnings of a pagan literary polemic are discernible in the
report of Tacitus on Nero’s persecution, mentioned earlier. Even though
that author did not regard the Christians as responsible for the burning
of Rome, his ironic words about their abominable superstition, their
heinous crimes and their hatred of mankind reveal the extent of his
contempt for them. His opinion of them could not have been without
effect among his readers. A little later we meet in Suetonius a similar
characterization of the Christians when he calls them adherents of a
superstitio nova ac malefica and thus clearly and contemptuously dis
tinguishes them from those who practised the old, true religion.1819 A like
opinion was held by Epictetus, who coldly disapproves of the readiness
of the “Galileans” for martyrdom, since it was (he says) based on blind
fanaticism.20 These, however, are casual remarks made by pagan writers
who show no real knowledge of the new religion.
From the middle of the second century a growing unrest becomes
evident among educated pagans on account of the increase of the Christian
movement, which evidently could not be halted in spite of popular tumults
and police measures. The representatives of pagan philosophy now had
occasion to become more closely acquainted with the intellectual and
religious phenomena of Christianity and to engage in controversy with
it. An early example of a discussion between a member of the Church
and a pagan philosopher is the encounter between the apologist Justin
and the Cynic, Crescens, in Rome. According to Justin’s account,21
Crescens went about proclaiming that the Christians were “atheists and
fellows of no religion” ; though he did so more to please the pagan majority
than because he had any sound knowledge of the facts. If he did learn
anything at all of the teachings of Christ, he certainly did not, Justin
thinks, grasp their scope and importance. In his disputation with Crescens,
no doubt conducted in public, Justin did not feel that he had had the
worst of it and was quite ready for further debate. Justin’s pupil Tatian
hints that Crescens sought to avenge himself on his Christian adversary
by other means than those of argument.22
18 Suetonius, Vita Neronis 16.

20 Epictetus, Diss. 4, 6, 7.
21 Justin, Apol. append. 3.
22 Tatian, Or. 19,1.
165
This example shows that the polemic of the educated adopted the
reproach of the masses that the Christians were atheists. The same applies
to the pagan rhetor Fronto, who enjoyed a certain consideration, not
because of his intellectual importance, but on account of his position as
tutor to the imperial princes Lucius Verus and Marcus Aurelius. In a
speech before the Senate or in a public lecture (afterwards, no doubt,
circulated in writing), Fronto took up the grave suspicions which the
common folk repeated about the Christians: at their gatherings they were
supposed, after having indulged in luxurious meals and partaken copiously
of wine, to give themselves up to the worst excesses, including incest.23
It is noteworthy that this member of the intellectual upper class obviously
took no trouble to inquire into the justification for such evil rumours,
and gave them, in his speech, an importance which could not fail in its
effect on public opinion. This effect lasted until the beginning of the third
century at least, when Minucius Felix wrote his Dialogue; the passage
quoted by him from Fronto was obviously equally well known to pagans
and Christians.
The picture of the Christians which Lucian of Samosata gives in his
satire “On the Death of Peregrinos Proteus” cannot strictly speaking be
regarded as a polemic against them. For this mocker, who with his sharp
pen so readily exposed the weaknesses of his fellow men to the laughter
of their contemporaries, was free from hatred against the Christians; he
saw in them neither a danger to the State nor a threat to public order,
and therefore scorned to repeat the venomous atrocity stories that were
current about them. lie regarded their religious convictions and their
everyday behaviour as belonging to the human follies and errors which
he enjoyed pillorying; but he regarded the folly of the Christians as
particularly harmless. On his numerous journeys, Lucian had often heard
of the adherents of this new faith, and no doubt he had occasionally been
able to observe them at first hand. As, however, his alert eye was intent
only on what might provide material for burlesque or be exploited for
its comic possibilities, his knowledge of Christianity remained quite
superficial. The writings of the Christians seem not to have interested
him, and of their inner religious world he had no idea. Thus it was that
he drew the following caricature of them.
The swindler Peregrinos easily succeeds in exploiting the credulity of
the men of Palestine; he is soon playing a leading part in the assemblies
of the Christians. He interprets their scriptures, writes some new ones
himself, and in a short time he is enjoying almost divine honours. When,
on account of his having murdered his own father, he is thrown into
prison, this only increases the respect the Christians have for him. With28
28 Minucius Felix, Octav. 9, 6.
166
unwearying zeal they seek to ease his lot, visit him day and night in
prison and procure him every assistance at his trial, while he unscrupu
lously exploits their helpfulness and unselfishness for his own enrichment.
For the Christians’ belief in immortality and their readiness to die Lucian
had sympathy rather than cynical mockery; he felt the same about their
brotherly love, their contempt for earthly possessions and their community
of goods; every clever swindler could exploit this attitude and could soon
became rich among them. It is only when the Christians see that Peregrinos
Proteus disregards some of the commandments of their religion that
they forsake him.24
Through this caricature of the Christian life we see a perceptible
glimmer of the real situation. Lucian had heard something of the esteem
in which one who professed the faith was held by his brother-Christians;
he knew of their solicitude for the imprisoned, of their community spirit,
and their courage in the face of death. But, even in a critic so free from
hatred, we cannot fail to notice the lack of depth and the gaps in
Lucian’s knowledge of essential features of the Christian religion. Of
Christ himself he had only the vaguest ideas; what Christ’s life and
teaching, death and resurrection meant to the Christians of that period
was quite unknown to him. His notion that Peregrinos could be regarded
by the Christians as the author of sacred books is as grotesque as his
statement that they honoured the deceiver as a god. The distorted image of
true Christianity which Lucian produced could hardly have appeared
very attractive to the pagans who read his work. Towards a religion
whose adherents were indeed harmless, but at the same time naive fools,
and who moreover were completely uncritical with regard to their own
traditions of belief, one could scarcely react other than with pitying
amusement. Lucian’s portrait of Christianity could not fail to produce
its effect in the intellectual battle with paganism.
Celsus
Celsus, who wrote in the eighth decade of the second century, raised the
controversy to quite a different level in an extensive work to which he
gave the equivocal title ’A A yj07)<; A o y o <;. We no longer possess the whole
work, but lengthy excerpts quoted by Origen in his refutation of Celsus,
while not enabling us to make a complete reconstruction, do give us a
clear idea of its basic arguments. Its author cannot be assigned exclusively
to any philosophical school. His idea of God is largely coloured by a
moderate Platonism; he therefore recognizes an absolutely transcendent,
24 Lucian, De morte peregrini 11-13.
167
first and supreme God, immutable and without form, who should be
honoured rather in the individual soul than in fixed forms of communal
worship. Besides this supreme God, revealed through philosophical
deduction, numerous lower gods claim the reverence of mankind, since to
them have been assigned special tasks; these gods include the constellations
and the tribal gods of the different nations. The demons are also inferior
gods, who indeed often occupy a place in the thoughts and actions of
men exceeding their actual importance. Finally, Celsus ranks earthly rulers
nearly as high as the lower gods, because men owe their welfare to the
order maintained by them in the world.
Celsus thus represented a philosophical creed which rejected mono
theism and tolerated, in the Greek manner, popular religion and the
mystery cults, provided they in some measure corresponded to the funda
mental ideas of his own philosophically based religion. Every new religion
must, according to Celsus, justify itself, whether as a popular belief or
as a local cult. Christianity appeared to him as a new religious movement,
and therefore he subjected it to examination. He had learnt as much
as possible about this new religion. He had taken pains to understand
its scriptures, he knew parts of the Old Testament, the Gospels, and other
Christian literature as well. Evidently he had also sought personal contact
with its adherents and spoken with them about questions concerning
their faith. Jewish sources and Jewish-Christian polemical writings had
provided further information. He summed up the results of his studies
in a learned and substantial work, which does not however limit itself to
displaying theoretical knowledge but also draws practical conclusions.
Since his conclusions were wholly unfavourable to Christianity and were
expressed moreover in a highly aggressive way, Celsus’ ’AXt]6y)<; Xoyoc,
was a decisive event in the history of literary polemic between paganism
and Christianity. The importance attached to the work and its possible
effect on the public can be seen from the fact that the most significant
theologian of the third century, seventy years after its appearance, thought
it worth while to write a detailed refutation of it.
Celsus’ philosophical principles did not allow him to accept either the
Christian doctrine of Creation or the idea of Revelation. A world which
was created out of nothing and will pass away again was something
that did not fit into his cosmology; even the manner in which the Old
Testament describes the creative activity of God seemed to him irrecon
cilable with the dignity of the Supreme Being. God, according to the idea
of Celsus, sat enthroned at an inapproachable distance from the world
and could not reveal himself without changing his nature or subjecting
himself to the vicissitudes of history and coming into dangerous proximity
to evil. Platonic dualism and Stoic cosmology were the basis of Celsus’
attitude; to him the idea of God’s becoming man appeared positively
168
shameful: "N o God and no Son of God has ever descended to earth,
nor ever will.” 25
With this rejection of the doctrine of the Incarnation, Celsus coupled
a characterization of the person of Jesus of Nazareth which was bound
to offend every Christian deeply. According to him, Jesus was only a man
who had gained respect and authority through the means employed by
Egyptian sorcerers; but no one would think of giving one of these the
title of "God’s Son”. Jesus was really nothing but a juggler, a boaster,
and a liar, whose moral life was by no means blameless. The veneration
which Christians had for him was comparable to the cult of Antinous,
the favourite slave of Hadrian; their worship was addressed to a dead
man, not to a divine being.
The opposition of Celsus to the Christian doctrine of angels was
connected with the Greek idea of the impossibility of divine intervention
in the course of human history. A God, who at a definite time in history
sent a messenger with a mission of salvation, would be breaking the
inalterable law to which all earthly things were subject.
Far more effective than his attacks on Christan doctrines was the
unfavourable description Celsus gave of the Christians themselves and of
their daily life. They were (he said), for the most part, men of limited
intelligence, who did not understand their own doctrines and would not
discuss them; they even regarded "foolishness” as a mark of distinction.
Their faith was the religion of the stupid and of stupidity;26 their
deliberate exclusion of the Logos from their religious life was in itself a
condemnation of Christianity in Greek eyes. Christian preaching even
warned its hearers against earthly wisdom and thus frightened away those
to whom Greek culture represented an ideal. That was why it found its
audience in those social classes to which, in any case, culture was foreign,
namely among the slaves, the lower orders of the despised manual workers
and their like, among immature children and women. This was no wonder,
for the founder of Christianity belonged to the lower classes, having been
only a carpenter.
Celsus based his moral judgment of the Christians as deceivers and
liars on their having consciously borrowed ideas from the Greek past,
distorting and falsifying them in their propaganda; whereas the Greeks
revered their intellectual heritage. Thus Christianity sinned against the
Logos and was the irreconcilable opponent of the <xkyfir\c, X o y o the "true
doctrine” of the Greeks. It offended furthermore against that other Greek
ideal, that of loyalty to the Nomos, the reverent regard for tradition in
25 Celsus, Fragm. 5, 2.
26 Cf. for the following C. Andresen, Logos und Nomos. Polemik des Kelsos wider das
Christentum (Berlin 1955; with Bibliography).
169
religion and worship, which was respected as an unwritten law by all

nations. Moses had already disregarded this law when he established
Jewish monotheism instead of Egyptian polytheism; but when Jesus of
Nazareth began to proclaim a new faith, it was rebellion against the
Nomos and an act of apostasy. This falling away from the Nomos forced
Christianity into isolation and made it a miserable, hole-and-corner
religion, the adherents of which Celsus compared to a group of earth
worms assembled on a dunghill, vying with one another as to which of
them was the greatest sinner.27
The revolt of the Christians against the sacred ideals of Logos and
Nomos gave Celsus a pretext for branding them as a gang of lawbreakers
who had to shun the light of publicity. Jesus had picked out men of
evil repute to be his apostles, men who carried on the unclean businesses
of publicans and sailors; he himself was nothing but a “robber chief” 28
at the head of his band of brigands. The successors of the apostles, the
Christian preachers of the author’s own time, were no better. Their words
found an echo only among criminals, whom they incited to further crimes.
It was therefore the duty of the State authorities to intervene against a
religion which, in a secret and forbidden confederacy, rebelled against
all traditional law and order. Sympathy for the victims of the resulting
persecution would be out of place.
Here we must stop to ask the question: how far was such a powerful
attack effective? It could hardly count on any appreciable success among
the Christians themselves. The distorted picture of Jesus was bound to
fill them with disgust, especially as it came from a man who was
acquainted with the Gospels. The same is true of his characterization of
the apostles and early disciples, as well as of his contempt for the martyrs,
to whom Celsus denied all moral worth, although elsewhere he highly
praised loyalty to religious convictions. His complete misunderstanding
of the Christian concept of sin and of what gave the Christians their
inner cohesion was bound to prevent his work from having any profound
effect on the members of the Church. One may, indeed, justly point out
that Celsus was guided in his polemic against the Christians by the motive
of saving from destruction the high Greek ideals of a life according to
Logos and Nomos. But in considering it necessary to employ in the
process a language of contempt and mockery, which did not shrink from
the vilest abuse of what he knew to be sacred to the Christians, he
served his cause badly. His appeal to the Christians to come out of their
isolation and to take part in the social life of the Roman State thereby lost
all appearance of sincerity.
27 Contra Celsum 4, 23.

28 Fragm. 2,12; 2, 44b.
170
The effect of Celsus’s book upon contemporary paganism may well

have been different. An educated pagan who, without personal knowledge
of Christianity, read this work which described, with pretensions to exten
sive learning, a movement threatening all Greek culture held sacred, could
with difficulty bring himself to take much positive interest in such a
contemptible religion. The book may indeed have done much to strengthen
the conviction that severe measures against such a movement were
necessary. Whether Celsus succeeded in bringing about a renaissance of
pagan religion in the face of the menace of Christianity may justly be
doubted. Subsequent developments indicate that the latter’s powers of
defence were rather strengthened than weakened by this attack.
C h a p t e r 14
The Early Christian Apologists of the Second Century
E ven before the middle of the second century, some writers on the
Christian side had begun a task which, because of its purpose, later
earned them the name of apologists. They belonged entirely to the Greek
speaking part of the empire and form a compact group, which in the
second half of the century grew in number and importance. In many
respects they introduced a new phase in the development of early
Christian literature; for the aim of the apologists was intentionally wider
than that of their immediate predecessors, the apostolic fathers. They wanted
to do more than provide the members of nascent communities with the
most important truths of Revelation in a simple form. They saw clearly
that the situation of Christianity in the first half of the century, especially
in the Hellenic East, presented its writers with new tasks.
The apologists perceived that the faith was meeting with ever-increasing
hostility in every department of public life. This development led them
to address their pagan neighbours directly, in order to give them, in more
or less extensive explanatory writings, a truer picture of the Christian
religion. Thus an unbiased judgment of its adherents and a juster treatment
of them would be made possible. In the situation then obtaining, any
explanatory work on the true character of Christianity was necessarily
also a defence against the suspicions and false judgments of the pagan
world. Hence such a work was called a7coAcqaa, “apologia” or speech
for the defence. But it was not difficult to combine missionary and
propagandist intentions, and these authors worked at least indirectly
towards the spread of the faith among their readers.
171
The Christian apologists did not need to create the literary form for
their purpose; it existed already in the speech for the defence, the logos,
which was delivered before the judicial authorities and subsequently
published. There was also the dialogue, the immediate occasion and
circumstances of which were usually fictitious. Both forms were used in
Christian apologetics. The defensive speech, in pamphlet form, was
employed especially when addressing the pagans; the dialogue was more
used in controversy with Judaism.29 This controversy had entered a new
phase now that the political existence of Palestinian Jewry had come to
an end through the Roman victory over Bar Cochba. In the changed
circumstances renewed discussion with the Diaspora Jews about the true
Messiah had become possible.
The method and choice of theme varied according to the adversary
addressed. In dialogues with the Jews, the main theme was already given:
only Jesus of Nazareth could be the true Messiah, for in him alone were
fulfilled the messianic prophecies of the Old Testament. In debate with
pagan religions and Hellenistic culture there was a wider choice. First of
all, the persistent rumours accusing the Christians of sexual immorality,
atheism, and inadaptibilty for social life had to be refuted, for it was
these rumours that kept alive the animosity of the pagan masses. More
space was devoted to setting forth the truths of the Christians and the
ethic on which it was based. In this connexion the Christian writers were
fond of adding some more or less sharp criticism of the pagan gods and
mythology for which contemporary philosophers might sometimes have
provided both stimulus and example. A few of the apologists endeavoured
to prove that the religious quest of the most profound pagan thinkers
found its fulfilment in Christianity. Alongside such a more or less positive
appreciation of the cultural achievements of paganism there was also, how
ever, a purely negative attitude which treated all that Greek civilization
had produced with cheap mockery. Repeatedly, the apologists draw the
conclusion that the right to existence of such a lofty religion as Christianity
could not be denied, and that, therefore, the measures taken against its
adherents by the authorities were completely lacking in justice.
The series of apologetic writers begins with the Athenian Quadratus,
who, according to Eusebius,30 addressed an apologia to the emperor
Hadrian. The single fragment of his work which is certainly genuine,
permits no conclusions about its general character. Various attempts to
see the Apologia of Quadratus in this or that extant apologetical work
of the early Christian period must be regarded either as unsuccessful or
29 Such as the lost work by Ariston of Pella: Disputation between Jason and Papiscus
concerning Christ (circa 140); cf. Quasten P, 1 ,195 f.
30 Euseb. HE 4, 3,1; the fragment ibid. 4, 3, 2.
172
CHRISTIAN APOLOGISTS OF THE SECOND CENTURY
as hypotheses which have not met with unanimous acceptance by his

torians. 31
On the other hand it has been possible to rediscover complete in a
Syrian translation the long-lost work of his fellow-countryman and
contemporary, Aristides, and to show that the Greek novel Barlaam and
Joasaph, in the version of John Damascene, is a free adaptation of it.
Aristides was no doubt addressing the same emperor, Hadrian, as Eusebius
(who knew his Apologia in the original text) was aware of.32 The author,
however, did not succeed in presenting and developing his theme effec
tively. His main argument was that the three races, barbarians, Greeks,
and Jews, did not possess the true idea of God; only the fourth race, the
Christians, had the true doctrine and moral code. He was not above
borrowing some of the Epicureans’ religious criticism and employing
Jewish arguments against polytheism. His clumsy style is no doubt partly
due to his efforts to use the language of contemporary philosophy in order
to bring home to his readers the fundamental truths of Christianity.
These, for him, consisted in the belief that Jesus Christ as Son of God
had come down from Heaven and taken flesh of a virgin, and that after
his death and resurrection he had commanded the apostles to proclaim the
true God to all nations and to make them observe his commandments;
he who obeyed these would become a partaker in eternal life.
Aristides’ tone becomes warmer when he speaks of the daily life of the
Christians (c. 15), which recommends itself by its lofty purity of morals.
He was deeply permeated with the belief that Christianity alone could
bring salvation to mankind. This earliest surviving attempt of a Christian
apologist to introduce his faith to his pagan fellow-citizens leads one to
suppose that a recent convert from paganism was bold enough to under
take a task which he was not yet quite capable of fulfilling.33
An incomparably higher achievement was the work of Justin, a convert
from a Greek family of Flavia Neapolis in Palestine, who as director of a
school in Rome, died a martyr’s death about the year 165.34 An Apologia
with an appendix, addressed to Antoninus Pius and his son Marcus
Aurelius, together with a lengthy Dialogue with the Jew Tryphon have
81 Cf. Altaner 117 f. The most interesting view so far is that of P. Andriessen, who
considers that the Apologia is identical with the Letter to Diognetus; cf. his essays, RThAM
13 (1946), 5-39, 125^19, 14 (1947), 121-56, and Vig Chr 1 (1947), 129-36; SE 1 (1949),
44-54; Bijdragen 11 (1950), 140-50. On this question see also G. Bardy, APhilHistOS
9 (1949), 75-86; B. Altaner, RAC I, 652-4.
32 Euseb. HE 4, 3, 3, The Syrian translation is addressed to “Adrianos Antoninos”, i. e.
Antoninus Pius; but the translator is more likely to have been mistaken than Eusebius.
33 Cf. W. Hunger, “Die Apologie des Aristides eine Konversionsschrift” in Scholastik
20-24 (1949), 390-400. On its doctrinal content see P. Friedrich in ZKTh 43 (1919),
31-77.
34 The account of his martyrdom is in Knopf-Kriiger, op. cit. 15-18.
173
come down to us, the remnant of eight works by Justin which were known
to Eusebius.35 The Apologia to the two emperors was written about 150.
Whether the appendix, often called the Second Apologia, was published
with it as its original conclusion, or was a supplement added later, it is
difficult to decide.36 The Dialogue refers to the Apologia as having already
appeared; more precise indications as to its date are lacking.
The career and the superior education of their author give these writings
a special importance. Justin belonged to the educated upper class. As a
professional philosopher he was acquainted with all the principal intellec
tual movements of his time, and as an unswerving seeker after truth he
had tried them all in turn and found inner peace only when he recognized
Christianity to be “the only certain and adequate philosophy” (Dial., c. 8).
H e thereupon embraced it and devoted the rest of his life to proclaiming
and defending it. It is understandable that, as a teacher of this philosophy
in Rome before a pagan public and pupils, he made use of philosophical
ideas and ways of thought that were familiar to them and were in some
measure akin to the truths of Christian Revelation. He attacked
polytheistic mythology with the methods placed at his disposal by the
“enlightened” philosophers. To it he opposed the one true God, the “Father
of the universe” (Apol. app. 6), who is without origin and himself the
first cause of the world, and for whom there is no name that can express
his nature. He is enthroned above the world, in which he cannot be
directly apprehended by the senses. Justin does not argue that this one
God is called “Father” because he has favoured men with a kind of divine
sonship, but, rather, because he is the first cause of creation. He seeks to
connect this philosophical idea of God with elements of the Christian
doctrine of the Trinity as expressed in the Creed, so that the Christian
belief in God is shown as including also belief in Jesus Christ his Son and
in the prophetic Spirit.37 The Logos was in the beginning with God; he
was begotten by the Father and appeared in his divine fullness in Jesus
Christ, as Holy Scripture had foretold. He has not indeed the same rank
as the Father, but, as his Son, he shares the divine nature (Dial. 61). Even
before his manifestation in Christ, the Logos was active; not only did the
Father create the world through him, but he also appeared frequently as
the “angel of the Lord”, he spoke in the prophets of the Old Testament,
and he was active too in such eminent men as Heraclitus, Socrates and
Musonios, in whom he was at work as “germinal Logos”, so that these
35 Euseb. HE 4,18,1.
80 Cf. A. Ehrhardt in JEH 4 (1953), 1-12. He repeats the theory of two independent
apologias.
37 W. Pannenberg, “Der philosophische Gottesbegriff in friihchristlicher Theologie” in
ZKG 70 (1959), 1-45.
174
and many others who lived in accordance with the Logos working in
their reason are actually to be reckoned as Christians.
If in Justin’s teaching about God and the Logos Stoic influence is
especially evident,38 his ideas on the activities of angels and demons show
a strong affinity with the Platonic philosophy of his time.39 God gave
the good angels charge over men and earthly affairs (Apol. 2:5). They are
not pure spirits but possess aerial bodies, nourished by a kind of manna
{Dial. 57). The fall of the angels was caused by their having sexual inter
course with women. Their children are the demons, who from their
kingdom of the air exercise their baleful influence on mankind, until at
Christ’s return they will be cast into everlasting fire. They are the actual
founders of the pagan cults; they also made the Jews blind to the Logos
and so caused his death on the Cross. They continue by their cunning to
prevent the conversion of mankind to him and to God. But in the name
of Jesus Christ the redeemer, a power has been given to Christians which
protects them against the demons {Dial. 307).
Justin’s Christianity has another side, less influenced by philosophical
abstractions, which appears when he writes of the daily life of the
Christians, in which he took part like any other member of a congregation.
Its high moral level was for him a convincing proof that the Christians
were in possession of the truth. They led a life of truthfulness and chastity,
they loved their enemies and went courageously to death for their beliefs,
not because they had been persuaded of the importance of these virtues by
philosophical considerations, but because Jesus had demanded of them a
life in accordance with such ideals. It was for Justin an incontrovertible
proof of the truth of Jesus’ message that in him all the prophecies of the
Old Testament were unequivocally fulfilled. He esteemed the Old
Testament as highly as the Gospels, the “memoirs of the apostles” {Apol.
66 and Dial. 100).
With the artlessness of a simple member of the Church he speaks of
baptism and the eucharistic liturgy as essential components of Christian
worship. Baptism, performed “in the name of God the Father and Lord
of the universe and of our redeemer Jesus Christ and of the Holy Spirit”
{Apol. 61), frees us from sins previously committed and creates a new man
88 G. Bardy, “S. Justin et la philosophic stoicienne” in RSR 13 (1923), 491-510, 14 (1924),

33-45; M. Spanneut, Le stoicisme des Peres (Paris 1957); R. Holte, “ Logos Spermatikos.
Christianity and Ancient Philosophy according to St Justin’s Apologies” in StTh 12 (1958),
109-68; N. Pycke, “Connaissance rationelle et connaissance de grace chez S. Justin” in
EThL 37 (1961), 52-85.
39 C. Andresen, “Justin und der mittlere Platonismus” in ZN W 44 (1952-3), 157-95;
W. Schmid, “Friihe Apologetik und Platonismus (Prooimion des Dialogs mit Tryphon)” in
Festschrift O. Regenbogen (Heidelberg 1952), 163-82.
175
through Christ; as the Christian is spiritually enlightened by it, baptism is

also called “enlightenment”. 40 The purest form of worship is the eucharistic
sacrifice,41 at which the faithful, joined in brotherly union, bring bread
and wine over which the head of the congregation utters a prayer of
thanksgiving. These gifts are again distributed among the faithful, but now
they are no longer ordinary bread and wine but the flesh and blood of
that Jesus who himself became flesh. This change is wrought by the words
which Jesus spoke over the bread and wine at the Last Supper and which
he told the apostles to repeat (Apol. 62). This food the Christians call the
Eucharist; it has replaced the Old Testament sacrifices, which God rejects.
It is the perfect sacrifice which Malachy foretold, and the fulfilment of
the spiritual sacrifice which the Greek philosophers longed for and which
they regarded as the only worthy form of divine worship. It is the only
true Xoyixy) 6uota, because the Logos himself, Jesus Christ, is its centre.42
In other matters, too, Justin’s views reflect the traditional teaching of
the early Church, even when this was in contradiction to pagan
sensibilities. Quite naturally he speaks of the mystery of the cross and the
redemption of mankind by the bloodshed and death of the Son of God.
His belief in the resurrection of the body, which would one day bring
incorruptibility to the just, was unshakeable. Although, according to his
own words (Dial. 80), not all good Christians agreed with him in this, he
expected a millennium — thousand-year kingdom — in Jerusalem which
would begin at the end of time, when the souls of the dead would be
delivered from Hades.
We could certainly give a more complete picture of Justin’s theology
if his other works had been preserved. In these he stated his attitude
towards the heresies of his time and dealt in more detail with questions
such as the Resurrection, the universal dominion of God, and the human
soul.43 His apologetical purpose in controversy with the pagans required
him to show a philosophical and rational basis for his faith, whereas the
dispute with the Jews limited him very much to the question of the
40 C. I. Story in VigChr 16 (1962), 172-8 (Justin on Baptism).

41 See O. Casel, “Die Eucharistielehre des hi. Justinus” in Katholik 94 I (1914), 153-76,
243-63, 331-55, 414-36; O. Perler, “Logos und Eucharistie nach Justinus Apol. 66” in
DTh 18 (1940), 296-316; Otilio de N. Jesus, “Doctrina eucaristica de San Justin” in RET
4 (1944), 3-58.
42 J. Gervais, “L’argument apolog^tique des proph^ties messianiques selon S. Justin” in
Revue de I’Univ. d’Ottawa 13 (1943), 129-46, 193-208.
45 Euseb. HE 4, 11, 8; 4, 18, 4-5. Cf. B. Seeberg, “Die Geschichtstheologie Justins des
Martyrers” in ZKG 58 (1939), 1-81; H. Bacht, “Die Lehre des hi. Justinus Martyr von der
prophetischen Inspiration” in Scholastik 26 (1951), 481-95, 27 (1952), 12-33; N. Hyldahl,
“Tryphon und Tarphon” in StTh 10 (1957), 77-90. On the influence of Justin on Irenaeus
cf. F. Loofs, Theophilus von Antiochien adv. Marcionem (Leipzig 1930), 339-74.
176
Messiah. Nevertheless, one is bound to say that he did not confine him
self to a purely philosophical Christianity; his survey represents a
significant advance in the development of early Christian theology when
compared with the world of the apostolic fathers and the earlier apologetic
of Aristides.
Justin’s pupil, the Syrian Tatian, shared with him a similar way to
Christian faith, for he too had found his way to the truth only after long
searching (he had been initiated into the Mysteries) and by reading the
holy books of the Christians {Orat. 29). His “Speech to the Greeks”,
written to justify his conversion, marks a retrograde step in comparison
with Justin’s Apologia. Whereas the latter found elements of truth every
where in Greek philosophy and spoke with high esteem of some of its
representatives, Tatian had, for the cultural achievements of Greece, only
mockery and contempt. None of these, he said, was of Greek origin, but
everything was borrowed from the barbarians, upon whom the Greeks
looked down with such arrogance; and even then, they had misunderstood
or maliciously distorted that which they had borrowed {Orat. 1 ff.). The
theology of the Greeks was folly, their theatres were schools of vice, their
philosophy full of deception, their games, music, and poetry, sinful
{Orat. 21-28). Such a whole-sale condemnation was not exactly likely to
make an educated Greek receptive to what Tatian had to say about the
Christian religion.
The centre of this religion, he said, was the one God without a begin
ning, clearly distinct from the material world he created through the
Logos. God intended man to rise again after the consummation of all
things and would also be man’s judge. Man, endowed with free will, could
decide to be on the side of goodness and so enter into immortality, in spite
of the influence of the demons, who sought to lead him astray. It was they
who tried to force upon mankind belief in Fate, and for this they would
finally suffer eternal damnation. Man, as God’s image, could free himself
from their domination if he renounced matter by strict self-mortification.
This the Christians did, though they were calumniously accused of every
possible vice.
The incomplete and fragmentary nature of Tatian’s theology strikes us
at once. What is especially noticeable is his failure to give any details
about the person and the redemptive action of Christ, particularly when
addressing pagan readers. Indeed, he states only a few of the fundamental
points of his theology, the selection of which was governed by a
predetermined schema of missionary preaching. The want of moderation
in Tatian’s attack on Hellenistic culture was in accordance with his
character, namely his tendency to extremes, which eventually after his
return to his native Syria about the year 172 was to lead him outside the
Church to become the founder of the Encratites, a Christian sect which
177
rejected marriage as sinful and renounced the use of flesh or wine in any
form.44
Tatian’s other surviving work, which he called To Sia Tcaaapov
EuaYyeXiov, had a much more far-reaching effect than his apologetical
work. It was a harmony of the Gospels which was intended to reduce the
four separate gospels to a single account. This Diatessaron, which the
fragment of Dura-Europos (dating from before 254) seems to show was
written in Greek, was used as a liturgical book in the Syrian church until
the fifth century, and St Ephraem wrote a commentary on it. It was early
translated into Latin, and it evidently influenced the text of the Gospels
outside Syria. The surviving Armenian text of Ephraem’s commentary and
versions of the Diatessaron in Arabic, Latin, and Middle Dutch enable us
to make a reconstruction of its original form .45*
Athenagoras, the "Christian philosopher of Athens”, wielded a more
skilful pen than any of the apologists above mentioned. About the year
177 he addressed a petition to the emperor Marcus Aurelius and his son
Commodus, in which he refuted the calumnies against the Christians,
claimed for Christianity equal rights with pagan philosophies, and there
fore demanded its toleration by the State. The nobility of tone of the work
as a whole is matched by Athenagoras’ attitude towards the Greek phi
losophers, many of whom showed monotheistic tendencies without on that
account being looked upon as atheists. The reproach of atheism made
against the Christians ought therefore to be dropped, for they believed in
one God, the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, and were convinced of
the existence of a world of angels to whom was entrusted the ordering of
the universe (Suppl. 10). The existence of this one God can be proved even
by reason alone (Suppl. 8). Revelation shows the divinity of the Logos;
the working of the Holy Spirit, who is an emanation of God, is especially
perceptible in the prophets (Suppl. 7 and 10). The high standard of
Christian morality was proved by the purity of their married life and the
esteem in which virginity was held among them, a second marriage being
regarded as "decent adultery” (Suppl. 31-35). The Christian doctrine of
the resurrection of the body, so difficult for the Greeks, Athenagoras
sought to prove philosophically in a special work. It is clear that in the
writings of this apologist the philosophical argument had gained in
quality and the theological understanding of Christianity in depth.
44 R. M. Grant, “The Heresy of Tatian” in JThS NS 5 (1954), 62-68; G. Blond

“L* ‘h£r£sie’ encratite vers la fin du IVe siecle” in Science religieuse (Paris 1944), 157 to
210; F. Bolgiani, “La tradizione ereseologica sull’encratismo” in A tti Accad. Scienze
Torino 91 (1956-7), 1-77.
45 I. Ortiz de Urbina, “Trama e carattere del Diatessaron di Taziano” in OrChrP 25
(1959), 326-57.
178
Only the Three Books to Autolykos survive out of the considerable body
of writings left by Theophilos, a men of Hellenistic education who, after
his conversion about the year 180, became head of the Christian
congregation at Antioch.46 Autolykos was his pagan friend, to whom he
wished to prove, in a pleasing Greek style, that the Scriptures of the Chris
tians (that is, the Old Testament) were superior, both in antiquity and in
religious and philosophical content, to everything that the Greek intellect
had produced. The line of argument and the defence against pagan
calumnies follow the usual course. In Theophilos5 account of the faith we
meet for the first time in a Christian writer the designation Tpiaq (Trinity)
(2:15), for the persons of which he always uses the terms 0eo<; (God),
Aoyo<; (Logos), Eocpia (Sophia) (1:7; 1:10; 2:18). The evangelists were for
him, like the prophets, bearers of the Spirit; their writings, with the
epistles of Paul, were the “holy, divine word” (2:22; 3:13-14). The human
soul was potentially immortal; immortality would be given as a reward
for freely choosing to observe the commandments of God (2:27).
Except for a few fragments, the apologia of Bishop Melito of Sardes, as
well as the works of the rhetor Miltiades of Asia Minor and Apollinaris,
Bishop of Hierapolis, are lost.47 With courage and dignity Melito pointed
out to Marcus Aurelius the unjust plundering and persecution to which the
Christians were exposed, whereas the benevolent attitude of the emperor’s
predecessors, except Nero and Domitian, had brought God’s blessing on
the Roman Empire.48 Eusebius has preserved a list of the other works of
this much respected bishop, the titles of which show the astonishing range
of his interests.49 I t is highly probable that a homily on Exodus 12,
rediscovered in a papyrus of the fourth century, is by Melito. This,
preached no doubt at a Paschal celebration of the Quartodecimans, gives
important information about early Christian teaching in Asia Minor on
original sin, on the redemptive act of Christ, on baptism, and on the
character of sermons at that time. A hymn in the same papyrus fits so well
with the Easter liturgy of the Quartodecimans and with the ideas of
Melito that it too has been claimed for the Bishop of Sardes.50
There are finally two other apologetical writings which belong to the
closing years of the second century or the beginning of the third. The
anonymous Letter to Diognetus attracted attention more by its elegant
Greek than by its theological content; it has repeatedly tempted scholars
to identify its author, but it is difficult to prove anything. A short criticism
48 Euseb. HE 4, 24; Jerome, De vir. ill. 25; Ep. 121, 6, 15.
47 See Quasten P, I, 228 f.
48 Euseb. HE 4, 26, 5-11.
49 Ibid. 4, 26, 2.
50 The Easter Hymn has been edited with a commentary by O. Perler, Ein Hymnus
zur Ostervigil von Meliton? (Fribourg 1960); see also J. Dani^lou in RSR 48 (1960), 622-5.
1 79
of the Jewish and pagan religions is followed by the oft-quoted hymnic

chapter on the Christians’ daily life: ‘‘Every foreign place is their home,
and their home is a foreign place to them; . . . they dwell on earth, but
their conversation is in heaven; they love all men and are persecuted by
all; they are poor and enrich many. They are despised and are thereby
glorified. They are insulted and they bless; they are mocked and show
honour to those that mock them; punished with death, they rejoice as if
they were awakened unto life. In brief, what the soul is to the body, the
Christians are to the world” (chapters 5 and 6). The reality, it is true, did
not in the year 200 everywhere correspond to the ideal. The satire of
Hermias, Aiaoupjio? tcov e£a> cpikoaocpw, is rather an audacious pamphlet
than a reasoned study. It makes fun of the contradictions in the teachings
of various philosophers or schools of philosophy about God, the universe
and the human soul.
A general appreciation of the achievement of the second century
apologists can no longer defend, without qualification, the thesis that their
endeavours to make Christianity intelligible to the Hellenistic world
played a decisive part in hellenizing the Church. The genuinely Christian
content of apologetical literature is too unequivocal to support such a
thesis, especially when we remember its purpose. In their efforts to appeal
to pagans and Jews the apologists could not give a complete exposition
of Christian theology. For this reason also they had to renounce any
intention of describing in detail the Christian mysteries. Compared with
the apostolic fathers, however, they show a considerable development in
their teaching about God, in the christology of the Logos, in the doctrine
of the Trinity, and in Christian anthropology. Great progress was made in
biblical studies; a start was made at establishing a canon; the doctrine of
inspiration began to be developed, and the Old Testament became the
foundation of a christology based on the Bible. Finally, in the works of
the apologists we get valuable information on the building up of the
inner life of the Church in the second century, notably for instance in the
liturgical parts of Justin, in the accounts of the relations between Church
and State and of the missionary activity of the young Church.
The question as to the success of the second century apologists is, of
course, difficult to answer. They did not attain one of their objects, which
was to place the Christian religion on the same footing as other cults and
thus put an end to persecution by the State. But their works may well have
increased the self-confidence of the Christians not a little; and the
missionary and propagandist purpose which motivated the work of the
apologists certainly played a considerable part in the expansion of
Christianity before the end of the second century, especially in the East.
180
C h a p te r 15
The Dispute with Gnosticism
I f the literary polemic of paganism represented no great danger to the

Christian community, there arose in so-called Christian Gnosticism an
adversary which, from the first decades of the second century, constituted
to an increasing degree a threat to her very existence. It was part of the
manifestation of late classical religious syncretism w'hich, based on oriental
dualism, united Jewish religious ideas with certain elements of the Chris
tian revelation, albeit in a distorted form. Now, as a mighty current bent
on sweeping all before it, it came flooding in from the East.
Gnosticism had a great attraction for Hellenistic man; it made a real
appeal to him, demanding that he make up his mind. Its impetus was
derived ultimately from its claim to bring to religious-minded persons a
valid interpretation of the world and of themselves — the claim made by
Christianity itself. Its message was expressed in a copious literature, often
of considerable stylistic beauty, and proclaimed by teachers and heads of
philosophical schools with respected names. The power of Gnosticism to
win recruits was supported by a liturgy which borrowed its forms from
the mystery cults or from Christianity and which made skilful use of its
symbolic content. The Gnostics carried on a well-planned propaganda,
which employed sacred hymns as well as fascinating novels, and they
strove to organize their newly-won adherents into a close-knit community.
With a sure instinct, Gnosticism felt the Church to be a serious competitor,
and it made a bold attempt to conquer her from within, to infiltrate into
her congregations and to disrupt them by forming Gnostic cells inside
them. The existence of ecclesiastically organized Christianity depended on
whether the heads of the Christian congregations saw this danger and were
able to sustain a defensive struggle that would tax all their energies.
Until recently, the incompleteness of our sources prevented the writing
of any satisfactory account of the basic teachings of Gnosticism and of
its manifestations. Only a few works of Gnostic origin were known in the
original, as, for instance, the Pistis Sophia, which is fairly late, and the
Books of ]eu, containing alleged revelations of Christ to his disciples. The
reason for this state of affairs is that after the victory of Christianity a
large part of Gnostic literature — which, in the second century, must
certainly have exceded Christian literature in quantity — was destroyed
or else perished through lack of interest. To a great extent therefore the
only available material was that contained in quotations and excerpts
preserved in the works of Christian anti-Gnostics, especially in those of
Irenaeus, Tertullian and Hippolytus, and to a lesser degree in the writings
181
of Clement of Alexandria, Origen, and the later authors, Epiphanius of

Salamis and Filastrius of Brescia.
But even anti-Gnostic literature survives only in part. Thus, what was
perhaps the earliest work of this kind, Justin’s Against all Heresies,
written at the time when Gnosticism was most flourishing, is now lost.51
The anti-Gnostic literature of the Church was naturally polemical,
deliberately picking out from Gnostic works that which it was most
easy to attack; this selection therefore hardly permits us to form a
complete picture of the whole realm of Gnostic ideas, for the Christian
writers’ account of it could not be other than one-sided.
A completely new situation with regard to source-material was brought
about by the discovery in 1945-6 of the extensive library of a Gnostic
community near the Upper Egyptian town of Nag Hammadi in the
vicinity of the former Pachomian monastery of Chenoboskion. It contained
in thirteen papyrus manuscripts more than forty hitherto unknown works
in the Coptic language, mostly direct translations from the Greek. These
translations belong to the end of the fourth or the beginning of the fifth
century; the Greek originals were probably written in the second century.
Many of the titles of the newly-found treatises at first led to the
supposition that they were already known Christian apocrypha; but closer
inspection revealed that their contents are quite new. For example, there
are apocryphal gospels of Thomas and Philip, a “Gospel of the Egyptians”
and a “Gospel of Truth”. There are Acts of the apostles Peter and
Matthias. Apocalyptic literature is particularly well represented by
apocalypses of Peter, Paul, John, James (three), Dositheos, and Seth (Sem).
As in many of the manuscripts the prophet Seth plays a central role, we
may assume that the library of Nag Hammadi belonged to the Sethian
sect, which is often mentioned by early Christian writers. There are,
moreover, works of Hermes Trismegistos, doctrinal works by Gnostic
leaders such as Silvanos and Eugnostes; others claim to be an “Ex
planation of Gnosis” or an account of the nature of the archons.52 Up
till now only a fraction of the newly discovered manuscripts is available
in the original language or in translations;53 only the publication of all
the texts will make possible an account of Gnosticism that will be accurate
in detail.
51 Justin refers to this work in Apol. 1, 26.

52 Cf. the general account in J. Doresse, Les livres secrets des gnostiques d ’Egypte (Paris
1958), 165 ff. and W. C. van Unnik Evangelium aus dem Nilsand (Frankfurt a. M. 1960),
26 ff., Eng. tr. Newly Discovered Gnostic Writings (London 1960).
88 To the texts named above in the Sources may be added: “Abhandlung iiber den
Ursprung der Welt” in Museon 72 (1959), 349-52; “Traktat iiber die drei Naturen” in
ThLZ 84 (1959), 243-56.
182
Basic Ideas of Gnosticism
On first acquaintance, Gnostic writings convey an overall impression of
a confusing mass of ideas and questions, often expressed in strange forms.
When examined, however, they reveal a basic theme which recurs in all the
variations of Gnostic opinion and can be reduced to one question and the
attempt to answer it. The question is: How can man find the true
knowledge which will explain the riddle of the world and the evil therein,
as well as the riddle of human existence? The Gnostic, Theodotos, gave a
rough definition of gnosis. Knowledge (Gnosis) of the answers to the
following questions gives freedom: “Who were we? What have we become?
Where were we? Whither have we been cast? Whither do we hasten? From
what will we become free? What is birth? What is rebirth?” 54 In the answers
to these questions the same basic ideas recur: man’s inmost being longs for
union with the true, perfect, but unknown God. Man, however, by a
peculiar destiny has been banished to this imperfect world, which is not
the creation of the supreme God, but can only be the work of a lesser,
imperfect being, who rules it with the help of evil powers. Man can be
free of their domination only if he rightly knows himself and is aware
that he is separated from the perfect God. Only this knowledge makes
possible his return to the upper world of light where the true God dwells.
This basic theme of Gnosticism, giving mankind an interpretation of the
universe and of being, cannot in the present state of research be ascribed
to any single, clearly comprehensible and generally recognized source.
Rather are its elements derived from different religious movements which
are known to have existed during the syncretic period in the Near East
and the eastern Mediterranean area. These elements were connected with
one another in a variety of ways, so that Gnosticism continually appears
under different aspects according to the regions to which it spread and
the formulations of its leading representatives. The observer is not con
fronted with any compact system of clearly defined concepts or dogmatic
teachings, but with a multicoloured stream of religious ideas and opinions,
which can look different from different points along its banks. Never
theless, certain currents are discernible which show from which tributaries
the river as a whole was formed.
First of all, there already existed a certain substratum of Gnostic ideas
independent of any contact with Christianity.55 Among these was a
strongly marked dualism, which made an absolute opposition between light
and darkness, between good and evil. The home of this dualism is to be
found in ancient Iran. When these Iranian ideas met the Genesis account
of Creation, this was interpreted in a Gnostic sense. The Creator God of
54 Excerpta ex Thodoto 78, on which see W. C. van Unnik, op. cit. 33.
55 Compare J. Doresse, op. cit. 332.
183
the Old Testament became the Demiurge who did not know the light.
Another source whose waters flowed into the Gnostic stream was
astrological learning. Since the time of Alexander the Great, astrology had
spread through the Hellenistic world from its Babylonian place of origin
and had had a far-reaching effect with its doctrine of the influence of the
planets on the destinies of man and the world. If such concepts were
already widespread in Hellenistic times, it was in the Gnostic movement
that they acquired a special force, as we can see from the speculations
about the constellations, about the Pole star as the beginning of the
kingdom of light, and about the spheres of the seven evil planets or
archons.
The new discoveries at Chenoboskion stress the fact that Egypt was a
fruitful soil for the growth of Gnostic ideas. It is true that the influence of
Egyptian religion needs to be more closely studied, but the hermetic
writings in the library at Nag Hammadi certainly point to an undeniable
connexion between Egyptian Hermetism and Gnosis. Even though in
these writings a demiurge plays no part in the creation of the world and
the bizarre figures of the demons are lacking, the opposition which they
proclaim between light and darkness, the encounter of a higher being with
matter, the liberation of man who is tied to matter and his ascent to God
once he is free — all this is part of Gnostic thought, only here the biblical
and Christian elements are absent.
The relationship between Judaism and Gnosis constitutes a difficult
problem.56 It is generally admitted that the world of the Old Testament
played a significant part in Gnostic literature. The latter is, besides, full of
images and ideas such as were current in Jewish apocalyptic works. Biblical
influence is particularly strong (even though the Gnostics disagreed with
the Bible) in the Gnostic account of Creation. It seems not impossible
that late Jewish sectarianism exercised a mediatory function between
Iranian and Hellenistic religious currents on the one side and the Gnostic
movement on the other, since it can be proved that there were Jewish
heretics who were prepared to accept dualistic ideas. One feels compelled
to ask if there were not here and there connecting links between Essenes
and Gnostics. The Qumran community imposed, like the Gnostics, a strict
commandment of absolute secrecy regarding certain parts of its doctrine;
the Book of Discipline further teaches that God, when he created man,
appointed two spirits to govern him, the spirit of truth and the spirit of
wickedness, which could make a man into a son of light or a son of
darkness — a fundamentally dualistic conception which is strongly
56 G. Scholem, Major Trends in Jewish Mysticism (New York 1943); J. Maier, “Das
Gefahrdungsmotiv bei der Himmelreise in der Jiidischen Apokalyptik und ‘Gnosis’” in
Kairos 5 (1963), 18-40; see also the works of H. J. Schoeps.
184
THE DISPUTE WITH GNOSTICISM
reminiscent of similar ideas in Gnosticism. It has also been suggested that

remnants of the Qumran community survived in Gnostic circles.57
Lastly there were the religiously-tinged philosophical currents of
Hellenism, which undeniably found expression in syncretic Gnosticism.
Certain themes of Gnostic theology are already foreshadowed in the
Platonic doctrine of the fall of the soul and its attachment to the matter
of the body. Stoicism too contributed its share to Gnostic thought. The
Gnostic writings of Chenoboskion eagerly take up the allegorical inter
pretations of Homer and Hesiod which Hellenism had developed.
Probably, however, the borrowings of Gnosticism from Hellenistic
philosophy were in its terminology rather than in its ideas.
When syncretism was at the peak of its development, Christianity
entered the Hellenistic world from its Palestinian birthplace and, in the
syncretic climate of the time, it became the object of growing interest.
Many men of that age could not but listen when a new redemption was
promised to them through a person who was also the bringer of hitherto
unknown revelations. Moreover, the new tidings of salvation came
accompanied by a corresponding form of worship whose mysterious rites
were alleged to ensure salvation. Such a message and such a cult offered
many points of contact through which a connexion with the prevailing
religious syncretism might be attempted.
Even, though the process of adopting Christian elements is no longer
possible to follow in detail, nevertheless the figure of Christ had soon be
come a part of Gnostic thought, and many who followed syncretic tenden
cies were soon claiming to be Christians. About the year 160 Justin mentions
men of his time who called themselves Christians, acknowledging Jesus as
Lord, but who saw in the Creator of the world only an evil god; there
were already several groups of such Christians, who were named after
their leaders Valentinians, Marcionites, or Basilidians.58 A little later
Celsus refers to Christian communities known to him as Valentinians and
Gnostics.59 Both Justin and later Origen emphasize, however, that such
groups did not represent true Christianity and did not belong to the
Church. The syncretic character of such sects is even more clearly shown
in Irenaeus5 account of a certain Marcellina, who came to Rome in the
time of Bishop Anicetus and tried with some success to make converts to
her ideas. H er adherents called themselves Gnostics. Among the images of
the religious leaders whom they revered was to be found, beside those of
Pythagoras and Plato, that of Christ, which supposedly came from Pilate.60
57 Cf. J. Doresse, op. cit. 326 f. and R. M. Grant, Gnosticism and Early Christianity
(London-N ew York 1959).
88 Justin, Dial. 35, 1-6.
59 Origen, Contra Celsum 5, 61.
185
The leaders of such Gnostic communities appealed in support of their

teachings to apostolic tradition or to the words of Christ himself; Ptole-
maeos, for instance, a pupil of Valentinus, in his Letter to Flora.*1 Others
incorporated in their systems Christian ideas in a distorted form, as for
example the Valentinians when they stressed the need for redemption,
without which no man could reach the pleroma or "fulfilment” ;
the baptism of Jesus effected the remission of sins, but only redemption by
Christ, who had descended into him, brought perfection. One became a
partaker of this redemption by a mysterious rite and certain formulas to
be recited during its performance. Thus the redeemed was to say: “ I am
confirmed and redeemed; I redeem my soul from this aeon and from all
that derives from it, in the name of Jao, who redeemed this soul in Christ,
the Living One.” 612 Besides echoes of New Testament phraseology, what is
here chiefly remarkable is the splitting of the person of the redeemer into
an earthly Jesus and a heavenly Christ in a way quite unacceptable to the
Christian Church.
Although Christian writers give no precise information on the subject,
it may be presumed that the teachers and proselytizers of Gnosis found
some of their adherents among the members of the Church, who often
lacked the critical power to recognize at once the heterodox character of
such opinions. Two factors may have contributed to the success of Gnostic
propaganda. First there was the stress laid on ecclesiastical tradition, on
which the doctrine of the "true Gnosis” and the salvation to be attained
through it alone was supposed to be based; this tradition, because of its
exalted nature, could be transmitted only in secret and was clothed in
parables that could be explained only to those who were capable of
understanding them.63 Was not this what the gospel of Mark said
(4:33-34): “And with many such parables he spoke to them the word,
according as they were able to hear. And without parables he did not
speak to them: but apart, he explained all things to his disciples”?
From this secret source came the abundance of Gnostic scriptures, which
invoked now this apostle or disciple, now that, as the specially chosen
messenger of revelation. The very fact that the contents of these revelations
were so wrapped in mystery was bound to make them interesting to many
Christians, particularly when their attention was directed to them by
veiled allusions. Moreover, the success of the Gnostics in winning ad
herents was founded upon the thesis that they, as Christians of a higher
rank, "spiritual men” (7rveupaTixo[), alone possessed the true interpretation
of cosmic events and were thus the only ones capable of attaining to
61 Ptolemy, Ep. ad Flor. 7, 8-9.

•2 Irenaeus, Adv. haer. 1, 33, 3-7.
•» Ibid. 1, 3, 1.
186
perfect knowledge of God. He who, like the great mass of Christians,

tried to work out his salvation merely by faith and good works, remained
for ever on a lower level, a lesser Christian or, “psychic”. 64 It was
unavoidable that a far-reaching conflict should arise between the prophets
of such a distorted form of Christianity and the leaders of the Church, if
the latter did not wish the substance of their faith to be dissolved.
The Principal Manifestations of Gnosticism
Though the different currents in Gnosticism show a certain basis

of opinions held in common, they also show equally clearly how much
room there was in the movement as a whole for variations and even
contradictions.
The Syrian group belongs to the early phase of Gnosticism and it
formed around Menander and Satornil (called Saturninus by Irenaeus)
with its centre at Antioch. Menander, a Samaritan by origin, is said to
have proclaimed himself as the Redeemer, who had been sent into this
world by the invisible powers. The author of the Philosophoumena gives
more details about the teachings of Satornil. The unknown supreme Father
created the angels, powers and aeons of the upper world; the lower,
earthly world, however, was the work of seven lower spirits, the highest
of whom was identified with the God of the Jews, the Creator of Genesis.
To them, man owed his wretched existence, since they had not been able
to create him in the image of the Supreme Being. But the Power from
above had sent him also a spark of life, which after his death would
enable him to return to those higher beings whom he could claim as his
kindred.65 Satornil is said to have been the first Gnostic to mention Jesus;
but he was also regarded as a pupil of Simon Magus, in whom Christian
apologists saw the actual founder of Gnosis.
The Basilidian school owed its origin to the Syrian Basilides. It ushered
in the golden age of Gnosticism and attained great influence, especially at
Alexandria, but it also had adherents at Rome. Basilides was very active as
an author and, among other works, wrote a commentary on the Gospels
in twenty-four books, besides hymns and prayers. A Christian, Agrippa
Castor, is said to have attempted a refutation of Basilides in a lost work,
Elenchos. This Gnostic addressed himself to the Christians with the claim
that he was the recipient of secret doctrines which the Redeemer had
entrusted to the apostle Matthias in special conversations before his
ascension.66 He was familiar with Persian dualism and taught an elaborate
84 Ibid l, 6, 1-2.
65 Philosophoumena 7, 28.
66 J. Doresse, op. cit. 21.
187
doctrine of emanation; according to him innumerable angels inhabited the

four heavens and their 365 firmaments. Christ was sent into the world by
his unbegotten Father to save from the power of the archons those who
believed in him; it was only apparently that he took a human form, and
Simon of Cyrene died on the cross in his stead.
The Egyptian Valentinus was evidently Gnosticism’s most gifted
exponent. In the form in which he preached it, with lofty religious and
poetic enthusiasm, it became the most dangerous threat to genuine
Christianity. He began to teach at Alexandria about the year 135 and
then propagated his opinions in Rome for nearly thirty years. There he
seems to have played a leading part in the Christian community, but after
a quarrel with the Roman Christians he returned to the East. His teachings
were spread by means of letters, hymns, and sermons, and a Treatise on
the Three Natures is also attributed to him. Irenaeus mentions a Gospel of
Truth which was said to have been written by Valentinus, and among the
finds at Nag Hammadi is a work of this title, the contents of which do
not contradict what we know of Valentinus’ doctrines. Many of these can
be gleaned from writings or fragments of v/orks by his pupils, for example
Ptolemaeos, who in his Letter to Flora is a moderate propagandist for
the Gnostic religion; or Heracleon, who had a predilection for the Gospel
of John and wrote commentaries on it which Origen was later to discuss.
Perhaps another work of Heracleon survives among the manuscripts at
Chenoboskion.
Valentinus’ Christian opponents reproached him with having borrowed
his wisdom largely from Pythagoras and Plato; they rightly saw that the
Gnostic’s ideas were similar to those of these philosophers. He also, how
ever, frequently follows Pauline lines of thought and employs words of
Christ, interpreted in a Gnostic sense, and this gives his teaching a biblical
colouring that may have made it seem familiar to many Christians. The
basis of his doctrine of the universe is the common Gnostic myth of the
invisible Father, from whom the “syzygies” of the emanations proceed,
of which the thirty highest aeons form the pleroma. This is the upper
spiritual world, wherein all earthly events have their origin, and to return
to which is the longing of imperfect creation.67 The latter is the work of
the Demiurge, who created man and breathed into him the psychic or
“natural” element which binds him to matter. Unknown to the Demiurge,
however, man also received a pneumatic or “spiritual” element; if this
has been awakened and formed by the true Gnosis which the Redeemer
brought to earth, the spiritual part of man will be saved at the end of
the world and can be again united with the light. In order to make possible
the ascent of the lower world towards the light, Jesus became man, and
®7 H. Leisegang, Die Gnosis (Stuttgart, 4th ed. 1955), 297.
188
upon him at his baptism the Spirit descended. For the passage to the light,
which led the soul through the realm of the hostile powers, the dying
Gnostic was, among the Valentinians, prepared by anointings and secret
formulas, in which he said to the angels of the Demiurge that he possessed
the true knowledge (gnosis) about himself and whence he came, so that
they could not harm him.68
On the fringe of these main Gnostic schools, there existed also various
sectarian groups representing a highly popularized Gnosticism in which
now this, now that particular doctrine often blossomed forth in the most
luxuriant forms. Among such sects, anti-Gnostic literature mentions in
particular the Barbelo-Gnostics, the Ophites, Naassenes, and Sethians. The
first of these took their name from Barbelo, a female emanation of the
Father who had the functions of the Logos. In their dualistic interpretation
of the universe they employed the Old Testament, allegorically explained;
the Apocryphon Johannis belongs to this sect, whose adherents were
mainly in Egypt and Syria.69 In the mythology of the widespread sect of
the Ophites70 a special place was given to the serpent, a religious and
cosmic symbol in various pagan cults; it represented the son of Jaldaboath,
the creator of the heavens and of the angels and demons, who had rebelled
against the supreme Father and God. The first human couple was cast out
of Paradise by Jaldabaoth, but the serpent too was banished to earth and
there he sowed discontent among men and sought, with his six sons, to
prevent their return to the supreme Father. But one of the highest aeons,
Christ, came into the world in the man Jesus, through whom he proclaimed
the truth to mankind. Since his resurrection, the elect had been initiated
by Jesus into the mysteries and thus could escape the domination of the
Demiurge. N ot all Ophite groups regarded the serpent as evil; to some
he was neutral, to others the symbol of saving knowledge. The Naassenes
probably represented a large sub-group among the Ophites, who, according
to Hippolytus, considered themselves to be the true Gnostics and found
confirmation of their opinions in all religions.71
The sect of the Sethians, both by its use of the serpent-symbol and its
borrowings from Greek mythology, closely resembled the Ophites and
Naassenes. The author of the Philosophoumena, in describing their teachings,
mentions a holy book of this sect called the Paraphrase of Seth. In its
myth of creation, there are not two but three principles in the universe:
light, darkness, and between the two, a pure pneuma resembling the per-

69 Cf. L. Cerfaux, “Barbelo-Gnostiker” in RAC I, 1176-80.
70 Cf. E. Amman, “Ophites” in DThC XI, 1063-75; G. Kretzschmer, “Ophiten und
Naassener” in RGG, 3rd ed. IV, 1659.
71 Philosophoumena 5, 6.
18 9
fume of balsam. These three forces are reflected in many forms throughout
the cosmos, especially in the symbol of the womb, which through the
co-operation of light, darkness, and pneuma gives birth to man. The
perfect Logos also had to enter into the womb of a virgin; but he was
able to cleanse himself and drink the cup of living water, without which
no man can find salvation. In one of the manuscripts of Nag Hammadi,
entitled Paraphrase of Sem, we find the same doctrine of the three prin
ciples of the universe (light, darkness, and pneuma), so that there is hardly
any doubt that it is a Coptic version of the work mentioned in the
Philosophoumena. 72
The myth of the triad of world principles is thus a characteristic of
the Sethian sect. As other manuscripts in the library of Chenoboskion
refer to the prophet Sem or Seth or claim to have been written by him,
it may be presumed that the whole collection belonged to a Sethian
community, and that further knowledge about the doctrines of the sect may
be expected from it. Even now, a preliminary inspection of its contents
shows that its ideas were often clothed in a mantle of Christianity,73 so
that the Sethians can undoubtedly be regarded as representatives of a
Christian form of Gnosticism.
Marcion
Even if Marcion cannot be called a Gnostic in the full sense, he never

theless adopted so much of Gnostic thought in his teaching that he may
not unjustly be included here as representing a Christian Gnosticism of
his own. The facts of his life show us a man of strong will, energy, and
initiative combined with organizing ability. A well-to-do native of Asia
Minor (he owned a shipping business at Sinope in Paphlagonia), he came
into conflict while still quite young with the leaders of the local Christian
community, probably because of differences of opinion about the inter
pretation of Pauline doctrines. His exclusion from the congregation in
his own city was followed by his rejection on the part of leading Asiatic
Christians such as Papias and Polycarp of Smyrna.
About the year 140 Marcion came to Rome, where he joined the
Christian congregation, which he supported with generous financial
contributions. His connexion with the Syrian Gnostic Cerdon, who also
lived in Rome, no doubt made him more closely acquainted with Gnostic
ideas, from which he took especially his doctrine about the Old Testament
Creator. The latter was not for Marcion the true God, the Father of
72 J. Doresse, op. cit. 171 fT.

78 Ibid. 215-37, 237-56.
190
Jesus Christ, but only the strict and just God who in the Mosaic Law
laid upon the Jewish people an unbearable yoke. In Rome too, Marcion’s
peculiar opinions met with no recognition, and in the autumn of 144
he left the Christian Church, albeit unwillingly.
H e at once began with skill and energy to win over adherents, to
whom he gave a close-knit organization. Everywhere there arose, alongside
the Christian congregations, Marcionite associations, governed by bishops
who in turn were assisted by presbyters. As their liturgy continued to
follow closely the usage of the Catholic Church,74 the change-over to
Marcion’s church was for many Christians not too difficult; and the
initial success of the Marcionites, which was evidently considerable, was
no doubt largely due to the influx from Christian circles. The strict
organization of his establishment distinguished Marcion’s community
from the other Gnostic groups and gave it a special impetus which made
it a serious danger to the Church. She soon recognized this threat, and
the majority of ecclesiastical writers from Justin to Tertullian felt obliged
to take up the pen against Marcion and his doctrines. Only when their
irreconcilability with apostolic tradition was convincingly proved could
their attraction for orthodox Christians be neutralized.
Marcion’s teaching was based upon a clearly defined canon of scripture,
from which the whole of the Old Testament was a priori excluded, for
therein spoke the God of justice, the creator of the universe, the Demiurge,
who was a stranger to goodness and love. The good God revealed himself
only when he sent Christ as the Redeemer, who brought to tormented
mankind the Gospel of the love of God. Paul was the only apostle who
accepted this Gospel without falsifying it. It found expression in his
epistles and in the Gospel of Luke, though even these writings had been
corrupted by interpolations due to the apostles who adhered to the Old
Testament God. Therefore everything had to be removed from them
which sought to introduce into the revelation of Christ the justice and
legalism of the Old Testament. Marcion wrote a commentary on these
purified scriptures, the Antitheses, preserved only in a few fragments,
which was primarily concerned with explaining his fundamental thesis,
the contrast between the Old and the New Testament.
Marcion’s thesis, with its dualistic approach, was a direct attack on the
Christian concept of God, which did not permit of a division between
a strict, merely just Creator and a God of love unknown till the coming
of Christ. This doctrine alone might have caused the Christian writers to
include Marcion among the Gnostic teachers. But his christology also
justified them in doing so; it was less its modalistic colouring than its
74 Tertullian, Adv. Marc. 3, 22. Even Augustine, De Bapt. contra Donatistas 7, 14, 31,
recognizes the validity of Marcionite baptism.
191
Docetism which provoked their opposition. For Marcion, the idea that
the Redeemer Christ sent by the good God should have chosen impure
human flesh to be the bearer of the Deity was impossible; a real human
birth would have subjected Christ to the dominion of the Demiurge.
The Christian adversaries of Marcion, who pointed out that the latter’s
doctrine of the apparent birth of Christ led to the conclusion that his
death on the cross was also apparent and that therefore the redemption
was ineffective, were difficult to refute, even though Marcion tried to
maintain the reality of the crucifixion. The fact that his pupil Apelles
corrected him on this very point clearly shows the weakness of the
Marcionite doctrine compared with that of the Catholic Church. In the
eyes of his opponents Marcion was finally placed in the Gnostic camp
by his rejection of marriage, which, in consequence of his view of the
body as a part of evil matter, he forbade to all baptized persons.
Marcion’s theology was indeed free from the bizarre speculations of
Gnosticism about the emanations of the pleroma, free from astrological
beliefs, from fantastic cosmogony and from the overestimation of pure
gnosis as opposed to faith with its consequent gradation of Christians into
“pneumatic” and “psychic”. The Gnostic ideas which he adopted were
enough, however, to make him suspect in the eyes of the Church and to
make his teaching seem in an increasing degree a grave danger to essential
features of the Christian faith. That the Church opposed him and his sect
with more determination and energy than she did many other Gnostic
groups was due to his disturbing success, to which the gravity of his
ascetic demands and, perhaps most of all, his strong personality contributed.
Like no other figure in the Gnostic world, Marcion compelled the Church
to consider and to reconsider her own attitude to Scripture and criteria
of faith, to overhaul her organization and to deploy her whole inner
strength in face of such a menace.
The Church’s Self-Defence

and the Importance of the Christian Victory
The Church’s campaign against the threat to her existence caused by

the manifold attractions of Gnosticism was waged in two ways, each
supplementing and supporting the other. First, the leaders of individual
congregations immediately took practical steps against those Gnostics
who endeavoured to infiltrate into them, or who, having previously
belonged to the congregation, sought from within to win over its members
to their new faith. Secondly there were the theological writers of the
time, who attacked the Gnostic movement on the literary plane, demon
strating the irreconcilability of its doctrine with Christian revelation and
192
opposing its main theses with the corresponding truths of Christianity,

now more precisely formulated as the result of profound study and
development.
The defensive struggle at the pastoral level naturally left little evidence
in the literary sources and it is therefore harder to reconstruct it in detail.
The immediate object was bound to be the suppression of centres of
infection within the congregations; that is, the exclusion of the bearers
of Gnostic doctrine from the community and the prevention, for the
future, of the formation of Gnostic cells in their midst. Only the
excommunication of Marcion himself found much of an echo in early
Christian literature, but it serves as an example for many similar
occurrences that are not mentioned. Probably it was already his Gnostic
convictions at their earliest stage, which led to his expulsion from the
Christian congregation of his home town, Sinope. Bishop Polycarp of
Smyrna also cast him out; in Rome likewise the leaders of the church
came to recognize that the exclusion of such a wealthy and influential
man was the only means of protecting the Christians from the errors
which he preached.75 Similar measures were no doubt taken in all places
where the danger of the formation of Gnostic cells within Christian
congregations was seen. The complaint of many Gnostics that the
Catholics would have nothing to do with them and called them heretics,
although they held the same doctrines, implies such defensive action on
the part of the senior clergy. Other Gnostics voluntarily separated
themselves from the Christian congregations when they found themselves
isolated and unable to carry on their activities; such isolation was itself
due to the initiative of the Church authorities or to the congregations’
own efforts. Valentinus seems to have been late in breaking with the
Church, but he had been repeatedly reprimanded in the congregations
to which he had belonged.
The eradication of Gnostic cells was accompanied by sermons explaining
the insidious nature of false doctrines, and Christians were warned by
their pastors of the danger to the true faith. Irenaeus gives excerpts from
the sermons of an Asiatic priest which he had himself heard;76 they are
entirely affirmative in tone and are concerned with expounding the
orthodox Catholic teaching, but they unmistakably constitute a refutation
of characteristic Marcionite doctrines, without any mention of Marcion
by name. We are led to suppose that instruction and immunization against
the Gnostic menace was the practice of most Christian leaders of the time.
That this form of defence was not merely local is shown by the example
75 A. von Harnack, Marcion (Leipzig, 2nd ed. 1924), 24-27; for the documentary proofs,
see ibid. 3*-5* 15* f.
78 Adv. baer. 4, 27-31.
193
of Dionysius, Bishop of Corinth about the year 170. Eusebius devotes

some informative lines to his pastoral activities.77 Dionysius carried on a
lively correspondence not only with the churches in Greece itself but
even with Asia Minor and far-off Pontus, seeking to build up a broad
defensive front against the heresies of the age. He urged the Christians
of neighbouring Athens and the island of Crete to hold fast to the true
doctrine and warned them against false teachings, just as he warned the
congregations of Amastris and Nicomedia in Bithynia. The heresy of his
time was primarily Gnosticism; indeed, his letter to Nicomedia expressly
names Marcion, to whose errors he opposed the “Canon of Truth”. The
special situation in which Christianity found itself placed with regard
to Gnosticism made the bishops more fully aware of their duties as
guardians of orthodoxy, and the increased activity of the heads of
congregations which resulted made the faithful more conscious of the
monarchical episcopate and of its significance for the future.
Parallel to this activity of the bishops in combating Gnosticism ran
that of the theological writers, to whom the rise and growth of the Gnostic
movement acted as a powerful stimulus. An extensive body of literature
from the Catholic side supported the Church authorities and provided
a theological basis for the counter-attack. Most of this anti-Gnostic
literature has perished, especially since the fourth century, when, because
of the completely changed situation, there was no need to take any interest
in the products of the second. A considerable part of these writings was
still extant when Eusebius wrote, and he mentions a number of authors
who were active in their production, but he evidently gives only a
selection. Among them were Agrippa Castor, who opposed Basilides,
Rhodon from Asia Minor who wrote against Marcion and his pupil
Apelles, and Modestus, whose refutation of Marcion was specially
praised by Eusebius.78 Bishops who wrote anti-Gnostic works include
Melito of Sardes, Philip of Gortyna in Crete and Theophilos of Athens,
all of whom were concerned with refuting Marcion; this shows how
much importance was attached to the man and his work. H e was also the
object of attacks by Justin Martyr and several other theologians whom
Eusebius does not name.79
Certain apocryphal writings on the Catholic side, such as the Acta
Pauli80 and the Epistula Apostolorum81 were also of anti-Gnostic tendency
and were intended as the orthodox counterpart to similar literature of
77 Euseb. HE, 4, 23, 2-6.

78 Ibid. 4, 25.
79 Ibid.
80 Cf. C. Schmidt, Acta Pauli (Leipzig, 2nd ed. 1905); IIpd^sK; IlauXou (Hamburg 1936).
81 C. Schmidt, Gesprache Jesu (Leipzig, 1919); H. Duensing in Hennecke-Schnee-
melcher, I, 126-55.
194
Gnostic provenance. Hegesippus, who was of oriental origin, wrote his

Memorials (of which some fragments are extant) against the Gnostics;
soon after the middle of the second century, seeking instruction in the
true doctrine in view of the widespread success of Gnosticism, he came
to Rome. Irenaeus, Bishop of Lyons, in his “Unmasking and Refutation
of the Palse Gnosis”, gives an analysis of Gnosticism based on his own
reading of Gnostic writings, which is of outstanding merit. Another work
which he planned to write against Marcion seems not to have been
carried out. To his account of Gnostic systems Irenaeus added a refutation
of their errors. H e opposed them, using his own exact knowledge of
Scripture and tradition, with the true doctrine of the Church. The author’s
interest in his subject and the soundness of his work make us forget any
stylistic failings; his achievement was not surpassed by any of the anti-
Gnostic writers who succeeded him. O f equal merit is the author of the
Philosopboumena or Refutatio, which is generally ascribed (though not
with absolute certainty) to the priest Hippolytus, who came from the
East and was active in Rome at the beginning of the third century.82
His work presupposes a knowledge of Irenaeus; but he brought a new
point of view into the discussion, inasmuch as he sought to show that the
opinions of the Gnostics were not taken from Holy Scripture but from
the works of the Greek philosophers, from the mysteries, from writers
on astrology and magic — in fact, from non-Christian sources. Hippolytus’
account of the catholic attitude is concise and jejune compared with that
of Irenaeus and gives little information about the nature of the Church’s
campaign against Gnosticism. In this respect his work resembles the
Syntagma , 83 a review of the heresies that had arisen down to the author’s
time. The original is lost, but it can be reconstructed from the writings
of later users.
More important are the works of the only Latin writer who engaged
in the controversy with Gnosticism, Tertullian of Carthage, who, however,
did not write until the third century. The two short treatises, De came
Christi and De resurrectione carnis prove positively from Scripture that
two of the Gnostics’ theses were untenable: their doctrine of Christ’s
“apparent” body and their rejection of the resurrection of the body. Three
other writings were directed against particular Gnostics: Hermogenes,
the Valentinians, and Marcion. To the last work, consisting of five books,
Tertullian devoted special care; it gives a detailed account of the principal
82 Ed. by P. Wendland, GCS 26 (Berlin 1916). For discussion of the authorship, see
P. Nautin, Hippolyte et Josipe (Paris 1947); idem in RHE 47 (1952), 5-43; RSR 41
(1954), 226-57 (against Hippolytus); G. Bardy and M. Richard in MSR 1948, 1950-1,
1953 are in favour of Hippolytus. Further bibliography in Altaner 185.
63 P. Nautin, Hippolyte, Centre les heresies (Paris 1949).
195
Marcionite doctrines followed by a skilful refutation based on reason

and the Bible. In De praescriptione haereticorum84 he explains the meaning
and value of apostolic tradition as opposed to the claim of the heretics,
especially the Gnostics, to possess the true doctrine of Christ. The
language he uses is that of the Roman law courts.
On the basis of this surviving anti-Gnostic literature we are able to
give some account of the character and quality of the theological struggle
against Gnosticism, at least in its main features. In general one may say
that the Church’s theologians thought out anew and established on a firmer
foundation those points of Christian revelation which were particularly
attacked and threatened by Gnostic teachings.
The claim of the heretics to be the sole possessors of the revelation
imparted by Christ to his apostles meant nothing less than a depreciation
of the Christian scriptures, which dated from apostolic times, and of the
other, extra-biblical apostolic traditions; furthermore it implied a rejection
of the Christian bishops’ claim to be the only lawful witnesses to that
body of tradition. If this Gnostic thesis were correct, then the whole
foundation crumbled on which the inner cohesion of the Church had
hitherto rested. The Christian theologians set to work to prevent the
threatened collapse by bringing into the foreground the concepts of
apostolic tradition and succession, and by deciding and confirming what
constituted the Christian scriptures. A starting-point for the establishment
of a canon of New Testament scriptures was already given in the books
of the Old Testament, recognized as sacred; these served as a model and
an encouragement to accord rank and respect to books from the period
of the primitive Church. Even though we can no longer clearly discern the
beginnings of this development, it is evident that two originally separate
collections, the four Gospels and the Pauline epistles, gradually came
closer together, although the latter were not yet accorded parity of
esteem with the Gospels. According to Melito of Sardes, in the years
170-80, books of the New Testament were placed on the same level as
those of the Old. No doubt the example of Marcion, who declared a
clearly defined canon of New Testament writings to be necessary, hastened
a development already begun in the Church. She did not however copy
Marcion, but, in sharp contrast to him, accepted the Old Testament as
sacred scriptures — the Christian understanding of them being made
easier by developing allegorical interpretation — and then incorporated
in her New Testament canon other books rejected by Marcion, notably
the Acts of the Apostles and the Apocalypse. In the controversy with
Gnosticism this canon became widely accepted, and in the “Muratorian
84 The works mentioned are in CSEL 47 (1906) and 70 (1942); reprinted in CChr 1-2
(1952-3).
1 96
Fragment”, a list (made by the Roman congregation or one closely at

tached to it) of the New Testament books held to be canononical, it is
already approaching its final form before the end of the second century.85*
In deciding which individual writings were to be included, the Church
had to be able to invoke an undisputed, objective principle. This was to
be found in ecclesiastical tradition. 80 Only those books could be recognized
as canonical which went back to apostolic times and had from an early
date been particularly esteemed in the traditions of the whole Christian
community. The only guarantors of the genuineness of such traditions
were those leaders of congregations who could trace their unbroken
succession back to the apostles. The positive effect of this principle of
apostolic succession was to assure the place of tradition as an essential
element of the Church’s faith and theology. Its negative effect was to
strip the Gnostic apocrypha and doctrinal works of their authority and
cut them off from the Church, for in no case could they claim to be
acknowledged by the witnesses and guardians of apostolic tradition.
A second principle was employed by the Christian theologians in their
war against error, that which Irenaeus calls the Canon of Truth, 87 given
to the faithful at baptism. This seems to refer to the baptismal “symbol”
or profession of faith, or at least to the summary of truths to which
the catechumens had been introduced during their instruction before
baptism. Whoever compared the teachings of the Gnostics with this
norm or rule of faith could immediately see how they contradicted the
true doctrine. The profession of faith at baptism had in fact about the
middle of the second century been expanded in a christological sense88 to
affirm more emphatically the reality of the human birth and of the Passion
and death of Christ. This was a blow at the Docetism of many Gnostic
sects and a declaration of the historicity of our Lord’s miracles in the face
of “spiritualist” attempts to explain them away. The same creed proclaimed
the one God and Lord and Creator of the universe and thus rejected all
Gnostic speculations about the origin of the cosmos as well as Marcion’s
doctrine of two gods. The Christian conviction of the resurrection of the
body contrasted with the Gnostics’ contempt for the body as part of
matter, held by them to be radically evil.
85 Cf. Wikenhauser, New Testament Introduction (Freiburg-New York-London, 3rd ed.

1963), 20-40, and O. Cullmann, Tradition (Zurich 1954), 42-54.
88 J. Ranft, Der Ursprung des katholischen Traditionsbegriffes (Wurzburg 1931); H. von
Campenhausen, Kirchliches Amt (Tubingen 1953), 163-94; A. Ehrhardt, The Apostolic
Succession in the First Two Centuries of the Church (London 1953), and esp. H. E. W.
Turner, The Pattern of Truth (London 1954), 241-58, 322-48.
87 Adv. haer. 1, 9, 4; 1, 22, 1, on which see Turner, op. cit. 349 ff.
88 The texts are in Denzinger nos. 1-12 and H. Lietzmann, KIT 17-18, (Berlin, 4th ed.
1935); see also Bibliography.
1 97
During the course of the conflict some individual theologians were

moved to lay stress on certain truths of revelation which were endangered
or distorted by Gnostic opinions. Thus Irenaeus made it his special concern,
in the face of the dualistic misunderstanding of original sin, to expound
the true doctrine of the Fall, and in oppostion to Gnostic self-redemption
to emphasize the gratuitousness of the gift of grace.89 The exaggeration
by the Gnostics of the value of “knowledge” for redemption was later
the occasion for Clement of Alexandria and Origen to consider more
deeply the relationship between faith and knowledge and to acquire a
Christian understanding and a true theological appreciation of Gnosis.90
The Christian doctrines and principles brought into prominence by the
opponents of the Gnostics do not of course contain any hitherto completely
unknown elements of the faith. The Church could hardly have saved her
independence, threatened as it was by the innovations of Gnostic pro
paganda, by combating them with novelties of her own. For the Church,
the rise of the Gnostic heresy was nevertheless a very efficient stimulus to
reconsider the truths she possessed, to formulate some of them more clearly
and to emphasize them more decidedly. Marcionitism in particular
hastened the process of the development of dogma and of the Church’s
consciousness of her own identity, and thus it played its part in forming
the character of the “Great Church” of the future. But it would be a
distortion of historical reality to see in that Church merely an anti-
Marcionite movement. Her inner riches exceeded the sum-total of the
doctrines defended in the attack on Marcionitism; the very strength of
the independence with which the young Church defeated Marcion and
the other Gnostics reveals the extent of those riches.
The decisive victory in the Church’s favour occurred before the end of
the second century; within a few decades the poison had been ejected, and
Gnosticism was thrown back upon itself. Marcion’s church, because of its
strict organization, lasted longer; but the other Gnostic groups lost all
cohesion and lapsed into sectarianism, even though their ideas exercised
a certain power of attraction upon educated members of Christian con
gregations in the big cities down to the middle of the third century, as the
works of the Alexandrines, of Hippolytus and Tertullian testify. After
that time, anti-Gnostic polemic writings appeared only sporadically, and
89 Esp. Irenaeus, Adv. haer. 1 , 3, 4; 3, 18, 2; 3, 18, 7; 3, 23, 1; see E. Scharl, Recapitu-
latio Mundi. Der Rekapitulationsbegriff des Irenaeus (Freiburg i. Br. 1941); A. Houssiau,
La christologie de S. Irenee (Louvain 1955).
90 O. Casel, “Glaube und Gnosis” in JLW 15 (1951), 164-95; T. Camelot, Foi et gnose
chez Clement d’Alexandrie (Paris 1945); J. Moingt, “La gnose de Clement d’Alcxandrie
dans ses rapports avec la foi et la philosophic” in RSR 37 (1950), 195-251, 398-421,
537-64, 38 (1951), 82-118; W. Volker, Der wahre Gnostiker nach Klemens von
Alexandrien (Berlin 1952).
198
their complete cessation in the fourth century proves that the once so
powerful movement had become insignificant. The actual importance of
this swift and permanent victory lies in the fact that the Church, faced
by the Gnostic attack, preserved her special character as a supernatural
community sharing the same faith and way of life and founded by Christ.
Thus she escaped the danger of being swallowed up and of perishing in
the sea of Hellenistic syncretism.
C h a p t e r 16
The Rise of Montanism and the Church's Defence
T h e conflict with Gnosticism was not yet over when a new movement
arose in the bosom of the Church which called itself the “New Prophecy”.
Its opponents called it the “heresy of the Phrygians”, thus indicating the
geographical area which saw its birth. Only in the fourth century was the
term “Montanism” invented, when it was desired to emphasize the part
played by Montanus in originating it.
The name “New Prophecy” aptly describes the basic idea of this
movement. It took up again that form of religious enthusiasm, so much
esteemed in the primitive Church, which regarded certain individual
believers as specially favoured messengers of the Spirit and as prophets
who placed their gifts at the service of the community. False prophets,
illusionaries and swindlers among them had indeed, here and there, brought
discredit on prophecy and created mistrust of any new “bearers of the
Spirit” that might arise. There had also been tension between those
favoured by the Spirit and those who wielded ecclesiastical authority; but
good relations had always been restored, for charismatic gifts and the
authority of the clergy were not necessarily mutually exclusive. This time,
however, it came to a clash between prophecy and authority, which led to
the exclusion of adherents of the movement from the community of the
Church.
The development of the Montanist movement had an early phase, then
a period when it underwent modification by Tertullian, and finally a stage
of decline after the Church had defeated it. The early phase began about
170, when the recently baptized Montanus, in the village of Ardabau on
the borders of Phrygia and Mysia, proclaimed to his fellow-Christians,
with ecstatic behaviour and in strange, obscure language, that he was the
mouthpiece and prophet of the Holy Spirit, who was now, through him,
to lead the Church to all truth. At first this message was received with
some doubts; but when two women, Priscilla and Maximilla, joined
199
Montanus and in a similar ecstatic manner uttered their prophecies, while

Montanus himself promised his adherents a higher place in the approaching
heavenly Jerusalem,91 a wave of enthusiasm swept away all hesitation.
No connexion can be proved between the old Phrygian cults and the New
Prophecy, though the population of the interior of Asia Minor does seem
to have had a certain tendency towards religious excesses. The initial
success of the three prophets was considerable, although they confined
themselves to oral propaganda and at first had no writer of consequence
to proclaim their message to the world. For this very reason the prophecies
of Montanus and his female companions were treasured by the followers
of the movement, and they were soon collected and circulated. Only a
few of these oracula are to be found in the works of anti-Montanist
writers or of Tertullian, so that we have to rely largely on the accounts
of opponents to find out what the New Prophecy consisted of.
The most prominent feature of it was its eschatological message: the
second coming of the Lord was at hand and with it the heavenly
Jerusalem would be set up in the plain near the Phrygian town of Pepuza.
In many parts of the empire men were not unprepared for this message,
due to the grave tribulations which pestilence, war, and social distress
under Marcus Aurelius had brought in their train. Hippolytus relates
that a Syrian bishop had gone out at the head of his congregation to
meet Christ, whom he intended to await in the desert, and that a bishop
in Pontus had announced what had been revealed to him in a dream —
that the last judgment would take place in a year’s time. There would be
no need to believe the Scriptures any more (this bishop had added) if his
prophecy were not fulfilled.92 Probably the Montanist movement would
have had little effect either in depth or in extent if it had confined itself
to the proclamation of its eschatological message; when the prophesying
ceased, a more sober frame of mind would, as in similar cases, have
returned. But the prophets drew consequences from their alleged heavenly
mandate which involved far-reaching interference with the existing
practice of the Church and eventually forced the ecclesiastical authorities
to condemn the whole movement.
Fasting suggested itself as a means of spiritual preparation for the
coming of Christ, for it had long been recognized as a form of inner
sanctification, and the official fasts known as “stations” had also been
instituted from eschatological motives.93 Hitherto these fasts had been
limited to two half-days in the week and recommended by the Church
91 Epiphanius, Haer. 48, 10; Tertullian, De exhort, cast. 10.

92 Hippolytus, In Daniel. 4, 18-19.
93 Cf. H. Kraft, “Die altchristliche Prophetie und die Entstehung des Montanismus”
in ThZ 11 (1955), 258 ff.
200
THE RISE OF MONTANISM AND THE CHURCH’S DEFENCE
to the faithful as a voluntary exercise. Montanus went beyond the previous

practice when he made continual fasting a matter of precept for all
Christians, since Christ’s return might be expected at any hour. When it
did not take place, the fast was confined to the customary stational days
but prolonged till the evening and two weeks of abstinence were added,
during which only dried food was permitted . 94
The same eschatological attitude lay behind the second demand of the
Montanist prophets, that which forbade the Christian who was waiting
for his Lord to make any attempt at flight from martyrdom. Evasion
would have meant a renewed attachment to this world, which was after
all approaching its end. Earthly possessions, too, had no value any more,
so it should not have been difficult for Montanists to give up their gold,
silver, and other valuables to pay for the support of their preachers and
prophets.
The Montanists’ demand for the renunciation of marriage (as far as this
was possible) was bound to have the most decisive effect. In their eyes
it was marriage that most strongly attached men and women to this world.
Both prophetesses set a good example by ceasing to live with their
husbands; they evidently represented it as a duty that others should imitate
this example and forbade marriages to take place in the brief span of
time before the second coming of the Lord. Tertullian later amended this
rule to prohibition of second marriages. Priscilla had a further reason for
requiring total continence: it made one better able to see prophetic visions
and to utter prophetic messages. 95
Montanism naturally showed most enthusiasm in its early phase. New
communities in Lydia and Galatia soon added to its already numerous
adherents in Phrygia. From the provinces of Asia Minor it passed to
Syria (ever receptive to new ideas), where it was especially successful
at Antioch; soon it appeared in Thrace also. The Gallic congregations of
Lyons and Vienne heard about the Montanist movement surprisingly early,
as appears from Eusebius, 96 who writes of a correspondence between those
congregations and “brethren” in Asia and Phrygia in which it figures.
Eleutheros, Bishop of Rome, was independently informed of the rise of
the New Prophecy, but he clearly did not regard it as a serious danger,
for he uttered no judgment upon it. Perhaps he was confirmed in this
attitude by the Christians of Lyons, who sent their presbyter Irenaeus to
Rome with a letter which likewise did not condemn the Phrygian move
ment. Pope Zephyrinus (199-217) also looked favourably upon it at first,
for he sent its members letters of peace, which were the expression of
94 Tertull., De ieiun. 1, 2, 10.

95 Euseb. HE 5, 18, 3.
96 Ibid. 5, 3, 4.
201
fellowship within the Church. Tertullian ascribes the later change in Pope
Zephyrinus’ attitude to Praxeas of Asia Minor, who had given him more
detailed information, admittedly somewhat distorted, about the prophets
and their churches. 97 The Roman bishops, then, were at first unaware of
the danger which the New Prophecy represented to the existence of the
ecclesiastical organization and of an ordered congregational life.
The first setback to the further spread of the movement was the death
of the three original bearers of the prophecy. Maximilla died in 179. It
was she who had announced: “After me no other prophet will come, but
there will be the consummation of all things .” 98 She had with these words
enabled many followers to form a judgment upon the genuineness of her
prophesying, and it could not be other than unfavourable. Perhaps the
movement would have declined more rapidly — certainly the conflict with
it would have taken a different form on the Church’s side — if a man
of the stature of Tertullian had not joined it and, on the level of literary
discussion at least, given it a new importance.
We have no evidence as to when and how the African writer came into
contact with the New Prophecy. From about the years 205-6 onwards
his writings show not only that he knew its basic teaching and its demands
on the faithful, but that he approved of them. Even in a man of the
spiritual greatness of Tertullian one might have assumed there would be
a period of inner struggle preceding the change from Catholic to fanatical
Montanist, for his new faith involved a contrast, patent to all the world,
with his previous convictions; he now scorned in unmeasured invective
what he had once ardently defended and respected. What it was that
appealed to him in the New Prophecy is not difficult to see when we read
his Montanist writings. He found in it an attitude towards the Christian
way of life which, in its pitiless severity to all that was mediocre,
corresponded to his own rigoristic approach, but which could not in any
way be connected with the Gnostic heresy or with the false doctrines of
a man like Praxeas. What attracted him even more perhaps was that in
the Montanist form of Christianity one could directly invoke the Holy
Spirit in support of one’s opinions; before this highest court of appeal all
others had to be silent — the martyrs, the episcopal Church, the Bishop of
Rome himself.
Tertullian was not, however, the man to accept the New Prophecy
quite uncritically. He thought out afresh its doctrines and organization
and modified it so much in detail that Tertullian’s Montanism is some
thing altogether different from that of the early days. The three great
prophets of that first phase were for him no inviolable authority. He
97 Tertull., Adv. Praxean 1.

98 Epiphan., Haer. 48, 2, 4.
202
possessed indeed a collection of their prophetic utterances, but he made

sparing use of them and preferred to lend weight to his views by appealing
to the Paraclete directly. Especially did he deny to women in the
Montanist community, as conceived by him, a rank like that accorded to
Priscilla and Maximilla. They were not to hold any priestly function, nor
were they to be allowed to teach or to speak at divine worship, even if
they possessed the gift of prophecy; their use of it, if so endowed, was to
be confined to private utterances. 99 He also disavowed the more concrete
prophecies referring to the descent of the heavenly Jerusalem — Pepuza
he never mentions. One gets the impression that he wished to detach the
New Prophecy from its connexion with the personalities of its early phase
and its local associations with Asia Minor and to give it a universal
character. His grand design, of which neither Montanus nor his female
assistants were capable, is clear from the new basis in salvation history
which Tertullian gave the movement. Its real mission consisted, according
to him, in bringing Christianity and mankind in general to adult maturity
through the working of the Paraclete. 100
Tertullian’s principal Montanist writings 101 repeat the rigoristic demands
of the New Prophecy with undiminished severity and in passionate
language. With a sophistry that sometimes borders on the acrobatic he
defends the prohibition against flight in time of persecution, and represents
one marriage only as a commandment of the Paraclete that admits of no
exception (secundae nuptiae adulterium) . 102 In like manner he proves
the obligation to fast, which the “natural men” or “psychics”, whom he
reviles in unmeasured terms, refused to accept. His attack on the Church’s
practice in the matter of penance is of ruthless severity towards sinners
and the fallen. It was his attitude on this question that made him into an
opponent in principle of the episcopal Church and led him finally to
break away from ecclesiastical authority based upon the apostolic
succession.
He soon had to give up his attempt to win over the Christian
congregation in his home town of Carthage to the Montanist movement.
It is remarkable that after Tertullian’s time the sources are at first
completely silent about Montanism; in no work or letter of Cyprian is
there even a remote echo of it. Evidently the exaggerated rigorism of its
African advocate had been unable to gain any large body of adherents
among the simple Christian folk of that region. Tertullian’s writings,
however, undoubtedly found readers; their literary quality and the
99 Tertull., De virg. vel. 9.

100 Ibid., 1.
101 De fuga in persecutione, De monogamia, De ieiunio adversns psychicos, De pudicitia.
102 De monog. 15.
203
uniqueness of their contents would have ensured that. But there were only
readers, not converts. Shortly before Augustine’s death a remnant of
Tertullianists rejoined the Church in Africa and brought their basilica
into Catholic possession.
The defensive campaign of the ecclesiastical authorities against
Montanism began, as we have said, slowly, because the latter’s opposition
to the Christian way of life and to the tradition of the Church became
apparent only on closer examination. Emphasis on fasting and readiness
for martyrdom, as well as praise for high moral standards in marriage had
always been staple themes of Christian preaching; even the renewal of
esteem for the prophetic gifts of the early Church gave no cause for alarm.
In the message of the New Prophecy there was, moreover, no connexion
to be seen with the errors the Church had hitherto been fighting against.
Only when it became clear that its genuinely Christian aims were distorted
by an immoderate exaggeration of their real significance, and that they
represented a falsification of Christian tradition, did defensive action
become necessary.
The bishops of Asia Minor must sooner or later have had to face the
question, which is bound to arise in the case of every enthusiastic move
ment, whether the claims of the New Prophecy were not based upon an
illusion. Some of them therefore tried to test the genuineness of these
prophetic gifts, but they were repulsed by the Montanists. The bishops
repeatedly took counsel together (the first example of such synods in the
history of the Church) and came to the conclusion that it was not the
Spirit of God which spoke through the new prophets. They were there
fore to be excluded from the fellowship of the Church together with their
adherents. Even towards the middle of the third century a synod of
bishops in Iconium was concerned with Montanism; splinter groups were
to be found in Spain at the end of the fourth, in Rome at the beginning
of the fifth, and in the East even as late as the ninth century.
The victory of the Church over Montanism had consequences for her
which brought her unique nature into greater prominence and determined
her future development. By refusing to make the excessively ascetic
programme of the Montanists a norm binding on all Christians, she escaped
the danger of sinking to the level of an insignificant sect of enthusiasts and
preserved herself for the task of bringing the message of Christ to all men
and making it possible for that message to be effective in every cultural
milieu. Moreover, by eliminating uncontrollable religious subjectivism as
represented by the Phrygian prophets, with its claim to the sole leadership
of the faithful, the Christian community was assured of objective guidance
by the traditional office-holders whose calling was based on objective
criteria. Finally by renouncing an eschatological hope which believed its
fulfilment to be impending, it became possible for the Church to consider
204
with an objective eye her tasks for the present and the future and to
embark upon them with confidence: these were her own inner strengthen
ing and her further missionary activity in the Hellenistic world.
C h a p t e r 17
The Expansion of Christianity down to the End of the Second Century
T he question of the Church’s expansion in the second century brings us

back to Palestine again. The Jewish war of the first century had, for the
time being, put an end to the missionary work of the Jerusalem congrega
tion and of the Christians dwelling in the countryside. Many of the
Christians who had fled to Pella, east of the Jordan, probably did not go
back to Palestine; those who returned were faced with the task of
rebuilding community life in and outside Jerusalem, so that by the years
73-74 a new period of Palestinian Jewish Christianity had begun. Its
centre was again at Jerusalem, where the congregation was presided over
by Simeon until his martyrdom about the year 107.103 Regarding the size
of the congregation our sources make only vague statements; but a remark
of Eusebius is noteworthy, according to which “very many of the cir
cumcision had come to the faith in Christ” down to the time of Simeon’s
death . 104 From this it is clear that the new community, like its predecessor,
engaged in missionary activity; for Jews in large numbers had settled again
in the city after the catastrophe of the seventies, but they now lacked a
Temple as a centre for their religious life.
Hegesippus states that at this time there were also Christians outside
Jerusalem, especially in Galilee, and this information is confirmed by
rabbinical sources. 105 The missionary efforts of the Christians certainly
encountered enormous difficulties. First of all they had to deal with
heterodox Jewish Christianity, which, partly at least, continued to assert
that the Law was still binding on all Christians and recognized Jesus of
Nazareth as a great prophet indeed, but not as the Messiah and Son of
God; moreover, it had been permeated by Gnostic ideas, as formulated
by Simon Magus, Dositheos, Menander and Kerinthos. 106 Samaria especially108
108 Euseb. HE 3, 32, 1-3.

104 Ibid., 3, 35.
105 Ibid., 3, 20, 6; 3, 32, 6; cf. A. Schlatter, Die Geschicbte der ersten Christenheit
(Gutersloh 1927), 363.
106 J. Daniclou, La theologie du judco-christianisme (Paris 1958), 67-89, Eng. tr. The
Theology of Jewish Christianity (London 1964).
205
was under the influence of Simon and Menander and offered little scope to
the Christian mission. 107108
The Christians met the most determined opposition from orthodox
Palestinian Jewry, based as it was upon a profound hatred of the
“apostates” who had renounced the Sabbath and proclaimed as Messiah
him whom the Jews had nailed to the cross. 108 According to the evidence
of Justin , 109 not only was this hatred deliberately fomented in the
synagogues of Palestine, but it led to powerful missionary counter
activity; from Palestine the Jews sent forth “chosen men” who were to
work against the spread of the Christian faith everywhere, especially
in the main centres of the Jewish Diaspora. The denunciation of Bishop
Simeon also came from anti-Christian circles in Palestine. He was denoun
ced before the proconsul Atticus as being a descendant of David and a
Christian, and in the year 107 he was, according to the principle of
Trajan’s later rescript, crucified after steadfastly professing the faith . 110
Accessions from paganism were probably not considerable in Palestine;
the only convert from paganism who is mentioned is Aquila, the translator
of the Bible, who, according to the late account of Epiphanios, joined the
Church at Jerusalem, but because of his superstitious tendencies was
subsequently excluded from the congregation. 111
As the Jewish war had brought to an end the original community, so
did the rebellion of Bar Cochba in the years 132-5 conclude the second
phase of Palestinian Christianity and with it the possibility of missionary
work among the Jews of Palestine. Persecution by the leader of the
rebellion caused the deaths of many Jewish Christians; 112 others again fled
beyond the Jordan. As no person of Jewish race was allowed to live in
the city of Aelia Capitolina, built on the site of Jerusalem, a Christian con
gregation could be recruited only from pagan converts. Its first bishop, Mar
cus, was therefore, as Eusebius states, a Greek; and all his successors down to
the middle of the third century bore Greek or Roman names. 113 The
Gentile-Christian congregation of Jerusalem played no remarkable role
during the rest of the second century, at the end of which the bishopric of
Aelia ranked below that of Caesarea. In the rest of Palestine too, the
Christians were now mainly Greeks, dwelling almost exclusively in the
towns. All attempts at christianizing the Jewish rural population failed
107 Justin, Dial. 120, 6; Apol. 26 56.

108 Euseb. HE 3, 27, 5.
109 Justin, Dial. 133, 6; 137, 2; 17, 1; 108, 2.
110 Euseb. HE 3, 32, 3-6.
111 Epiph., De mensuris 14-15; Irenaeus, Adv. haer. 3, 21, 1, calls him a proselyte.
112 Justin, Apol. 31.
113 Euseb. HE 4, 6, 4.
206
THE EXPANSION OF CHRISTIANITY
down to the time of Constantine, because of determined hostility towards

everything Christian . 114
In neighbouring Syria the Christian churches dating from apostolic
times maintained themselves or increased in importance. The Christians in
Damascus, Sidon, and Tyre, likewise had increased in numbers during the
course of the second century, while the Phoenician countryside remained
largely pagan. In Antioch especially — its earliest important mission-
centre — Christianity gained in consideration on account of its bishop,
Ignatius, and acquired new converts from among the Greek-speaking
population. The letter of Bishop Theophilos, written shortly after 180 to
Autolykos, 115 is both apologetical and propagandist in tone and shows
that missionary work was going on among the pagan upper class.
In the second half of the second century new territory was opened up
to Christianity in the east Syrian district of Osrhoene, when the Jewish
Christian Addai began to work in Edessa and its immediate neighbourhood.
His labours were continued by the future martyr Aggai and the leaders
of the Edessan congregation, Hystaspes and Aggai, the latter of whom
had to excommunicate Bardesanes (converted to Christianity in 179) on
account of his Gnostic errors. The existence of Christians between Nisibis
and the Euphrates in the second half of the second century is suggested
by the Aberkios inscription. 116 At that time other congregations were
established around Edessa, among which we must presume there existed
a certain degree of organized union, for a synod at Edessa discussed the
question of the date of Easter. 117 Tatian may have compiled his Diatessaron
for these communities. The consecration of Bishop Palut for the see of
Edessa, which took place at Antioch about the year 190, shows Antioch’s
interest in this promising mission-field, which was soon to be contested by
various heretics. That the royal house was converted to Christianity in
the second century and that Christianity was established as the State
religion has often been accepted as fact; it remains, however, open to
question. 118 The destruction of a Christian church at Edessa in the flood
of 201 is evidence of a well developed ecclesiastical organization.
Bardesanes mentions regular Sunday assemblies and fasting on particular
days. 119 It is characteristic of the young Syrian church that it did not
confine itself to the cities, but from the beginning concerned itself with
the evangelization of the country folk. From Edessa Christianity
114 Cf. Harnack Miss 638—43.

115 See above, chapter 14.
118 Cf. I. Ortiz de Urbina, Gr 15 (1934), 84-86.
117 Euseb. HE 5, 23, 4.
118 I. Ortiz de Urbina, loc. cit., 86-91.
119 Cf. H. H. Schaeder, “Bardesanes von Edessa” in ZKG 51 (1932), 21-74, esp. 72.
207
penetrated farther east into Mesopotamia, thanks to the labours of the

missionary Addai.
Whereas southern Arabia appears to have had no Christians for a long
time, northern Arabia or Transjordan shows evidence that Christianity
was known there in the first and second centuries. “Arabs” were
represented among the Jews and proselytes staying in Jerusalem at the
first Pentecost (Acts 2:11). The faith may also have been brought to the
lands east of the Jordan by Jewish Christians fleeing from Jerusalem and
Palestine. The apologist Ariston, who wrote his Dialogue between Jason
and Papiskos concerning Christ shortly before the middle of the second
century, belonged to the congregation of Pella . 120 But before the third
century there can have been only individual Arab conversions, most
likely in cities such as Bostra, which had come into contact with Hellenistic
civilization.
The beginnings of Christianity in Egypt are obscure, in spite of the
discovery of numerous papyri of the first and second centuries. As the
account of the founding of the Egyptian church by Peter is based on later
legends, 121 the fragment of John’s Gospel on papyri of the early second
century may be regarded as the earliest proof of the presence of Christians
on Egyptian soil. 122 We must also bear in mind that the Gnostic mission
had more initial success there than orthodox Christianity, of the existence
of which in Alexandria we have no clear evidence dating from before
the last two decades of the second century. Pantaenus is the first mentioned
preacher of the Christian faith; about the year 190 Bishop Demetrios was
the head of an already considerable congregation, consciously preparing
for the growth of the Church in the third century.
Besides the district of Osrhoene, the provinces of Asia Minor were the
most receptive to Christian preaching in the second century. Both inland
and on the west coast, missionaries could continue to build on the
foundations laid by Paul. Even by the end of the first century a number
of cities in the west of Asia Minor had organized churches (Apoc 2-3) in
addition to those founded by the apostle. Ignatius of Antioch maintained
relations with these and with the churches of Magnesia and Tralles. The
testimony of Pliny is particularly significant: he states that about the
year 112 there was in Bithynia a considerable Christian rural population . 123
In the following decades the names of cities in Asia Minor in which
Christianity had gained a footing continued to multiply; they are found
in nearly all provinces. 124 The correspondence of Dionysius, Bishop of
120 Quasten P, I, 195 f.
121 Euseb. HE 2, 16.
122 See above, chapter 7, note 4.
123 Pliny the Younger, Ep. 10, 96.
124 Harnack Miss 737 f.
2 08
Corinth, of which Eusebius tells us, 125 is addressed to a whole series of

congregations, such as those of Nicomedia, Amastris, and “the communities
in Pontus”. It shows us a well-organized Christianity, able, in the synods
of the eighties, effectively to oppose the Montanist movement. 126 Bishop
Polycrates of Ephesus could point to the glorious Christian tradition of his
congregation, which gave it a special place among those of the west
coast. 127
In Crete the churches of Gortyna and Knossos are now known by name,
as the correspondence of Dionysius of Corinth shows, 128 whereas we have
no information about the growth of the Pauline foundations in Cilicia and
Cyprus during the second century. Compared with the rapid expansion
of Christianity in Asia Minor, the areas of Greece and Macedonia
evangelized by Paul clearly lagged behind. Corinth surpassed all other
churches in the intensity of its life, which, under Dionysius, attained a
high degree of ecclesiastical organization. Athens, at this time gave to
the Church the apologist Aristides. We have no reliable information about
attempts at christianizing the Danubian provinces in the second century;
Christians among the soldiers stationed there may have won occasional
converts to their faith . 129
In the Latin West, the growth of the Christian congregation at Rome
was probably greatest. The letter of Clement, Bishop of Rome, to the
church of Corinth shows that despite the persecutions under Nero and
Domitian the Gospel had gained many more believers before the end of
the first century, though these may have been largely non-Romans. 130
The respect in which the Roman church was held appears from the
powerful attraction it exercised upon the Christians of the eastern
provinces; Ignatius speaks of it, as we have seen, with expressions of the
deepest reverence. Marcion, Aberkios, Hegesippus and Irenaeus, Valentinus
and Theodotos, Justin, Tatian, and Polycarp of Smyrna — all travelled
for various reasons to the capital in the West; some to seek recognition for
their peculiar doctrines, others to learn there the true Christian teaching
or to work for the peace of the Church. Hermas, still writing in Greek,
gives us a glimpse of ecclesiastical life in Rome with its everyday problems.
With Bishop Victor towards the end of the second century the Latin
element begins to predominate. 131 The educated Greek Justin set himself
125 Euseb. HE 4, 23, 1-13.
128 Ibid. 5, 16, 10.
127 Ibid. 5, 24, 1-6, on which see V. Schultze, Altchristlicbe Stadte imd Landschaften,
II/2 (Gutersloh 1926), 107 f.
128 Euseb. HE 4, 23, 5 7-8.
129 Cf. RAC IV, 166 f.
139 The list of popes (cf. Harnack Miss 818-32) shows predominantly Greek names
during this period.
131 Jerome, De vir. ill. 53.
209
a missionary task in Rome when, in a school like those of classical Greece,

he taught “the true philosophy” to interested persons among the intellec
tuals of the capital. From the extensive charitable activity which the
Roman congregation was able to carry on in the second half of the
century 132 we may conclude that its membership was considerable. There
is little evidence concerning Christian advances in other parts of Italy
during the second century. One might well expect there to have been
missionary expeditions from the capital, but, quite possibly, the fact that
the majority of the congregation consisted of non-Latins made such
undertakings too difficult. At the most, we can say that in the second
half of the century some bishoprics had been established south of Rome.
Whereas Sicily does not appear to have been touched by Christian
missionaries before the third century, Roman N orth Africa proved
relatively early to be a profitable field for their activity, although we
do not know their names nor the route they followed. The first document
that gives information about African Christians, the Acts of the martyrs
of Scili, 133 already presupposes the existence there of Latin Christianity,
for the six Christians who were put to death in July 180 (a later addition
to the Acts shows that other Christians of the province fell victims to the
persecution) evidently possessed the epistles of Paul in Latin. The place in
which a large Christian community first grew up was, naturally enough,
the capital, Carthage, where the catechetical and literary work of
Tertullian about the year 2 0 0 was so extensive that it would have been
possible only in a Christian group that was already numerically strong.
The way in which the Roman, Scapula, proceeded against the Christians 134
also compels us to assume that a considerable number of Christians had
existed for some time in Africa. And if Bishop Agrippinus, about 2 2 0 ,
could summon seventy bishops to a synod, 135136 we may conclude that
intensive evangelization had been going on in the countryside for a
considerable period. North Africa is the only large area of the Latin
West at this time which can in any way be compared with the mission
fields of eastern Syria and Asia Minor.
The populations of the delta and middle valley of the Rhone owed
their first contact with Christianity to the commercial relations between
Asia Minor and the south coast of Gaul. For the old Greek colony of
Massilia this contact must have come quite early . 138 The numerical strength
132 Dionysius of Corinth thanks the Roman church for its support of many congrega
tions: Euseb. HE 4, 23, 10.
138 Knopf-Kriiger, Ausgewahlte Martyrerakten (Tubingen, 3rd ed. 1929), 28 f.
134Tertull., Ad Scapul., passim.
135 Cyprian, Ep. 71, 4.
136 E. Griffe, La Ganle chretienne, I (Paris 1947), 45.
210
of the churches of Lyons and Vienne, which is implied in the account of

forty or fifty Christians of those cities martyred under Marcus Aurelius,
also presupposes a long period of development. Irenaeus of Lyons can be
regarded as a missionary bishop, concerned for the Celtic population of
his adopted homeland; no doubt he intended to preach the Gospel among
the Gauls, although, as he himself hints, the language problem was a source
of difficulties. 137 To him too we owe our knowledge of Christian congrega
tions then existing “in the Germanies” — probably in the Rhenish
provinces with their chief towns of Cologne and Mainz — and in the
Spanish provinces. 138 But if Christianity had already penetrated to the
frontier towns on the Rhine, it had certainly also reached Trier, situated
further inside the frontier and much more frequented by traders. Its
relations with the cities of the Rhone valley suggest too the way by which
the faith reached the Moselle.
This survey of the expansion of Christianity in the course of the second
century gives a clear impression that the missionary enthusiasm of the
primitive Church was still fresh and active. Intensive work continued in
the original mission fields of the apostles, with great success in the parts
of Asia Minor, where Paul had preached. New areas were opened up,
especially in east Syria and Mesopotamia in the Orient, in North Africa,
Gaul, Germany, and Spain in the West. The bearers of the Gospel were
primarily the congregations and the enthusiasm of individual Christians;
there is no indication of a central direction and organization of missionary
work. The names of the missionaries are for the most part unknown.
Besides the type of preaching familiar from the apostolic period, new
ways of proclaiming the Gospel were being employed. First there was the
written word, used by the apologetical writers of the second century,
whose intentions were also missionary and propagandist. Then there were
some Christians who made use of the classical system of education; as
teachers in private schools, they expounded the Christian faith. Finally,
the heroic behaviour of the martyrs in times of persecution became a
missionary factor of the first importance, gaining for Christianity a body
of new adherents which, if not numerically great, was spiritually of the
highest quality.
187 Irenaeus, Adv. haer., praef. 1, 3; see E. Griffe, op. cit. 43.
211
PART TWO
The G reat Church o f E arly Christian Times

(c. A.D. 180 - 3 2 4 )
Introduction
T he transition to the third century introduces the period of the early Christian
Church in which it finally became the “great Church” through a combination
of external expansion and inner development. In a space of some one hundred
and thirty years an interior stability was attained in organization, ritual,
day-to-day parish life and clarity of aim in theological studies. Upon
attainment of external freedom, it was immediately possible for the Church
to assume the tasks inherent in the promising new situation.
In the first place the decisive missionary advance within the Roman
Empire was successfully continued through the third century. This gave
both previously existing and new communities of Christians a numerical
strength which provided a large degree of immunity to deliberate attack.
The organization necessary to cope with this growth was supplied by the
formation of larger associations of churches. These developed around
certain centres: Antioch in Syria, Alexandria in Egypt, Ephesus in Asia
Minor, Caesaria in Pontus, Carthage in North Africa, and Rome, which
served the rest of the Latin West. Rome, under such bishops as Callistus,
Stephen, and Dionysius, developed a remarkable initiative in the domain of
dogmatic teaching, revealing an increasingly distinct awareness of a duty,
and a corresponding claim, to leadership within the one great Church.
Everywhere within the Church new forms in liturgy and parish life were
created and testify to an intense determination to lead the Christian life.
Systematic organization of the catechumenate shows a clear pastoral
awareness of the importance of serious introduction to the sacramental
world of Christianity. The differentiation of the lower grades of the sacra
mental order illustrates the clergy’s ability to adapt itself to growing
pastoral demands. The shock resulting from the large number of Christian
defections during the Decian persecution led to thorough reflection, and the
regulation of the practice of penance. The rise of the order of ascetics and of
the early eremitical movement demonstrated a serious striving after Christian
215
INTRODUCTION
perfection, and laid the foundations for the full growth of monasticism in
the fourth century. Various ecclesiastical ordinances served to stabilize
liturgical forms in the life of the parish communities; and, in addition, there
were at least the beginnings of the separate rites and liturgies which were to
characterize the greater groupings within the Church. Christian a rt developed,
and testifies to the growing sureness and confidence of Christian feeling and
attitude towards life.
The most enduring effect resulted from the further elaboration of Christian
theology in the third century. This development received new impulses from
pagan opponents and writers, and from controversies within the Church.
The encounter with Middle Platonism proved especially valuable, for it
contributed to the rise of the theological school of Alexandria, which had
Origen as its outstanding creative figure. Through the work of scholars from
Alexandria and Antioch the central position of the Bible in the work of
theology was recognized, and great commentaries expounded its significance
for faith and religious life. The Trinitarian question formed the centre of an
important theological discussion. The monarchical attempt at a solution to
this problem was rejected, but a subordinationism was advanced which
held the seeds of the fourth century’s great dogmatic controversy.
216
SECTION ONE
The Inner Consolidation of the Church

in the Third Century
C h a p t e r 18
The Attack of the Pagan State on the Church

The Persecutions under Septimius Severus
W it hthe accession of the Syrian dynasty’s founder Septimius Severus

(193-211), a tranquil phase of potential development, both internally and
externally, seemed to begin for Christianity. This emperor soon publicly
demonstrated his goodwill towards individual Christians. His contemporary,
and fellow-African, Tertullian gives definite and impressive proofs of this
attitude . 1 Christians held influential positions at court, as they had under
Commodus. For example, Proculus, who had once succeeded in curing the
emperor of an illness, lived until the end of his life in the imperial palace;
and Prince Caracalla’s nurse was a Christian woman. Men and women of
Roman senatorial families, whose adherence to the Christian faith was
known to the emperor, were openly protected against the mob, while he
vouched for their loyalty. It is possible that the emperor’s tolerance was
encouraged by the Syrian princesses who accompanied his wife Julia Domna
to court, for they looked sympathetically on all religious trends, especially
those of oriental origin. It is a further indication of the freedom of Christi
anity in the first years of his reign that, about the year 196, the bishops were
able to meet in synods at which the date of Easter was discussed. 2 It is true
that proceedings against individual Christians were not unknown, for the
legal situation created by the rescript of Trajan was still unaltered. Tertul-
lian’s Liber apologeticus (c. 197) was provoked by the occurrence of such
cases. It was not until the tenth year of his reign that Septimius’s attitude
altered drastically and created a completely new situation for Christianity.
In the year 202 an imperial edict was issued forbidding conversion to
Judaism or Christianity under pain of heavy penalties. 3 In practice this
1 Tertullian, Ad Scap. 3-4.

2 Euseb. HE 5, 23-5.
* Spartianus, Septim. Sever. 16, 9: “Iudaeos fieri sub gravi poena vetuit; idem etiam de
Christianis sanxit.” Schwarte disputes the genuineness of the last part in “Das angebliche
Christengesetz des Septimus Severus” in Historia 12 (1963) 185-208.
217
INNER CONSOLIDATION IN THE THIRD CENTURY
meant the abandonment of Trajan’s principle conquirendi non sunt (they are
not to be searched out), for the new ordinance could only be implemented
by police supervision of the Church’s activities. It was not only the
individual Christian who was at the mercy of a denunciation; the Church
as an organization was affected. Every activity which aimed at winning new
members could be punished; therefore all missionary work would be made
impossible and Christianity would slowly die out within the empire. This
change in the emperor’s attitude is intelligible only if we believe that he had
come to recognize that Christians had not attained new religious convictions
merely as isolated individuals. He must have realized that their faith bound
them together in a universal organized community of belief possessing a
strong cohesive power of resistance. For practical reasons of State this
development may have seemed undesirable to him, so he hoped to avert it
by cutting the Church’s artery and making her further growth impossible.
The voices of a few Christians who refused military service4 may have
strengthened Septimius in the conviction that the Christian religion was just
as dangerous to the maintenance of the order of the State as was the radical
opposition of the Montanists to everything connected with it. It was this
anxiety which was expressed by Dio Cassius, when he made Maecenas warn
Augustus to abhor and punish those who wished to introduce foreign
customs into the native Roman religion. They could only give rise to
conspiracies and revolutionary machinations against the monarchy,
counselled Maecenas, and for the same reason no atheism or black magic
should be tolerated . 5 The immediate consequences of the imperial edict
showed its purpose even more clearly. In Alexandria and Carthage two
places within the empire possessing large Christian communities, the
persecution now affected catechumens and newly baptized persons, for they
particularly transgressed the new edict. The Christian school of Alexandria,
which had led many a pagan religious inquirer to the new faith, was now
subjected to such supervision that its teachers were compelled to leave the
town in a .d . 202. Six pupils of Origen, who was working at that time as a
Christian teacher, were executed. Two of them were still catechumens, and
another had only just been baptized . 6 At the beginning of the year 203, a
group of catechumens were arrested, and their heroic bearing at their
execution forms the theme of one of the most precious accounts of a
martyrdom surviving from the third century . 7 The noble Perpetua and her
4 Tertullian, De cor. passim; Origen, Contra Cels. 5, 33; 7, 26; 8, 70, 73; cf. A. Harnack,
Militia Christi (Tubingen 1905), 55-75.
5 Dio Cassius, Hist. Rom. 52, 36.
6 Euseb. HE 6, 3, 1; 4, 1-3.
7 Passio ss. Perpetuae et Felicitatis, ed. J. van Beek (Nijmegen 1956); an editio minor,
FlorPatr 43 (Bonn 1938). On Chap. 7 of thePassio, see F. J. Dolger, AuC II (1930),
1-40; and on Chap. 10, ibid. I ll (1932), 177-91.
218
THE ATTACK OF THE PAGAN STATE ON THE CHURCH
slave Felicitas, together with her teacher Saturus and fellow catechumens
Revocatus, Saturninus and Secundulus, were never forgotten in the African
Church. The account of their act of testimony to the faith, which may well
have been composed by Tertullian, was read and re-read during divine
service down to the days of Augustine. 8
Proceedings against Christians as individuals were also continued. In one
instance three Christians of Carthage were condemned to death at the stake;
another died in prison . 9 Augustine himself was acquainted with the record
of a woman martyr of Carthage, Gudentis, beheaded in 203.19 From
occasional references by Tertullian we can infer that the anti-Christian
attitude of various individual Roman officials or the hostility of the pagan
populace prompted renewed recourse to the rescript of Trajan. Tertullian’s
early work To the Martyrs (a .d . 197)11 was addressed to Christians in prison
awaiting trial. His later work concerning flight in time of persecution,
indicates that under Septimius Severus many African Christians including
clerics, escaped arrest through timely flight, or obtained their safety by
bribing the police. One such persecution, which took place in Egypt in 202,
is expressly attributed by Eusebius to the edict of Septimius against the
catechumens. The prefects Laetus and Aquila secured the arrest of Christians
from as far away as the Thebaid and had them brought to Alexandria, where
they were executed, in many instances after repeated torture . 12 The most
outstanding figures among these were Origen’s father Leonides, the virgin
Potamiaina (who was later held in high honour), her mother Marcella,
and the soldier Basilides, who had been prompted by the example of
Potamiaina to adopt the Christian faith . 13 One Christian writer was so
impressed by the harshness of this wave of persecution that he saw in it
the coming approach of Antichrist. 14 For other provinces of the empire
the available sources are scanty. In Cappadocia the governor Claudius
Herminianus persecuted the Christians because he could not forgive the
conversion of his wife to the new faith . 15 It is possible that Alexander,
later Bishop of Jerusalem, confessed the faith at this time with other
Christians of Cappadocia, just as Bishop Asclepiades of Antioch stood
firm under persecution. 16 No reliable information is available on the course
of the persecutions in Rome. They either abruptly ceased or died away
gradually in the last years of Septimius’s reign.
8 Cf. J. Moreau, La persecution du christianisme (Paris 1956), 82.
9 Passio ss. Perpetuae et Felicitatis 11, 9.
10 Augustine, Sermon 294: “in natale martyris Gudentis”; see also 284 and 394.
11 New critical edition by A. Quacquarelli (Rome 1963).
12 Euseb. HE 6, 1; 6, 2, 2.
18 Ibid. 6, 5, 1-7.
14 Ibid. 6, 7.
15 Tertullian, Ad Scap. 3.
18 Euseb. HE 6, 8, 7; 6, 11, 4-5.
219
Certainly Caracalla (211-17) inaugurated a period of religious tolera

tion which was of considerable advantage to Christianity, as was recognized
by the early Christian writers themselves. It has indeed been thought that
an anti-Christian motive lay behind the so-called Constitutio Antoniniana
(by which Caracalla in 212 granted Roman citizenship to all free men in
the empire), because it made it easier to bring a charge of laesa maiestas.
But this contention is refuted both by the unrestricted praise that Augustine
accords this act 17 and by Caracalla’s whole attitude to Christians whom
he knew personally. We find them once again in influential positions at
court: the freedman Prosenes was private chamberlain under Caracalla , 181920
and when, on the emperor’s accession to the throne, an amnesty was granted
to deportees, Christians were not excepted from it. The proceedings of the
proconsul Scapula (211-12) against the Church in the three North African
provinces are, therefore, not to be ascribed to an order of Caracalla, but
were rather provoked by rigorist tendencies among African Christians.
Tertullian was their constant spokesman, advocating rigid principle in such
works as On the Soldier's Crown, a rejection of military service for
Christians . 10 Scapula may have been led to take the steps he did by the
jurist Ulpian’s publication of the various existing imperial rescripts
concerning Christians, in his De officio proconsulis.20 Tertullian leaves no
doubt that the methods of execution employed were particularly cruel,
though he names only one of the victims: the Christian Mavilus from
Hadrumet, who was thrown to the wild beasts. 21
The short reign of Heliogabalus (218-22)22 records no event by which
his attitude to Christianity can be judged, unless it be his plan to make
the cult of the sun-god of Emesa obligatory in the empire. This favourable
situation for Christianity improved still further under his successor, Severus
Alexander (222-35). The intellectual and religious atmosphere of the court
was determined by the emperor’s gifted mother, Julia Mamaea. She may
be judged to have had definite leanings towards Christianity; a hagio-
grapher of the fifth century actually considered her a Christian. During a
stay in Antioch she sent for Origen requesting his presence to discuss
religious questions; 23 and Hippolytus of Rome dedicated one of his treatises
to her. 24 Her tolerance is reflected in the attitude of the young emperor,
17 Augustine, De civitate dei, 5, 17.

18 Cf. L. Hertling-E. Kirschbaum, Die romischen Katakomben und ihre Martyrer
(Vienna, 2nd ed. 1955), 213.
19 De cor. passim; De idol. 17.
20 Lactantius, De inst. div. 5, 11, 18.
21 Cf. Ad. Scap. as a whole; and on Mavilus, ibid. c. 3.
22 K. Gross, “Elagabal” in RAC IV, 998 ff.
28 Euseb. HE 6, 21, 3-4.
24 Quasten P, II, 197.
220
who accepted numerous Christians among his closer associates and entrusted
the building of the library near the Pantheon to the Christian Julius
Africanus. 25* His policy of religious toleration is accurately characterized
by a phrase of his biographer in the Historia Augusta, which states that he
left the Jews their privileges and allowed the Christians to exist. 20 This
latter assertion is borne out by the unhampered development of Christian
life in the East. Christian inscriptions of this period are found in great
numbers in Asia Minor, and it was possible to erect a Christian place of
worship in Dura-Europos before 234. In the West Christian burial was now
organized quite freely at Rome. 27 It is characteristic that no legal
proceedings against a Christian and no Christian martyrdom can with
certainty be assigned to Alexander’s time.
A reaction did not occur until the reign of the former guards officer
Maximinus (235-8). The change of policy first affected the numerous
Christians at court; but, as Eubesius emphasizes, 28 it was directed
principally against the Church’s leaders. To that extent it introduced a new
note into the anti-Christian actions of an emperor. Had this reign lasted
longer, it could have been of grave consequence for the Church. In Rome
itself, it can be established that the two Christian leaders there, namely
Bishop Pontianus and the priest Hippolytus, were deported to Sardinia,
where both died . 29 Origen reports the danger to some Christians; it was at
this time that he dedicated his Exhortation to Martyrdom to his friend
Ambrose and the priest Protoctetus. A typical reaction of the pagan
masses produced an attack on the Christians in Cappadocia following an
earthquake, for which they regarded the Christians as responsible. 30
The struggle for power by the soldier emperors who followed left them
no leisure to occupy themselves with the question of the Christians. But in
Philippus Arabs (244-9) a ruler came to power who showed such sympathy
for the Christians that a complete reconciliation seemed possible between
Christianity and the government of the Roman State. Indeed Bishop
Dionysius of Alexandria tells us that about twelve years after Philippus’
death many people were saying that the emperor had been in fact a
Christian; Eusebius mentions the claim as merely talk . 31 On the basis of
another unconfirmed rumour that the emperor once joined the crowd of
25 Ibid. 138.
28 Lampridius, Alex. Sev. 22, 4: “Iudacis privilegia reservavit, Christianos esse passus
est.”
27 Cf. also A. Alfoldi in Klio 31 (1938), 249-53, on his decision favourable to the
Christians in a land dispute.
28 Euseb. HE 6, 28.
29 G. Bovini in RivAC 19 (1942), 35-85.
30 Euseb. HE 6, 28; Firminian of Caesarea in Cyprian, Ep. 75, 10.
31 Euseb. HE 6, 34; 7, 10, 3.
221
penitents in a Christian congregation before Easter, hagiography wove the

assertion that Philippus was the first Roman emperor to have accepted
Christianity. But on 21 April 248 the emperor still took an active part in a
celebration of the official worship on the thousandth anniversary of the
foundation of Rome. And the idea that he was secretly a Christian, but
publicly an adherent of the State religion, is not in accord with the attitude
of the men of antiquity, to whom a sophistical distinction of that sort was
alien. Nevertheless, the rumours indubitably had their root in the high
degree of goodwill towards Christianity exhibited by Philippus’ government.
The consul in office in the year 249 was certainly a Christian . 32 And the
emperor’s personal inclination and that of his wife Severa are mirrored in the
correspondence between the imperial pair and Origen, which Eusebius had,
at least in part, available to him . 33 But not even so much sympathy could
protect the Christians of Alexandria from an outburst of popular rage in
the year 249. A refusal to revile their religion 34 cost many of them their
lives.
A retrospective survey of the relations between the Roman State and
Christianity in the first half of the third century makes it clear that the
phases of really peaceful co-existence, and sometimes of positive toleration,
predominate over the waves of harsh persecution. Only twice can the
features of a systematic policy against Christianity be observed: first when
Septimius Severus made adherence to Christianity an indictable offence;
and secondly when Maximinus Thrax took action against the leaders of the
Christian communities. For the rest, the haphazard, unsystematic
proceedings against individual Christians reveal the vacillating religious
policy of the holders of power in the State and of their subordinate
authorities in the provinces. The unsettled course adopted by these officials
was partly a result of the political decline of the empire under the soldier
emperors. At the beginning of the second half of the century the possibility
of a definitive reconciliation between State and Church which had emerged
under Philippus Arabs, was brusquely reduced to a utopian dream. The
emperor Decius came to power and determined to re-establish the old
brilliant reputation of the Roman State by restoring its ancient religion.
The Persecution under Decius
The first measures of the new emperor might appear as a typical or common
reaction against the rule of a predecessor. Christians were arrested as early
as December 249, and in January 250 the head of the Roman community,82
82 J. Moreau, op. cit. 92.

33 Euseb. HE 6, 36, 3.
34 Ibid. 6, 41, 1-9.
222
Bishop Fabian, was put to death . 35 A general edict in 250, however, soon
proved that Decius was pursuing aims concerning the Christians which far
exceeded those of his predecessors. The text of his edict has not been
preserved, but its contents can be largely reconstructed from contemporary
sources. All the inhabitants of the empire were summoned to take part in
a general sacrifice to the gods, a supplicatio. This appeared to be a summons
to the people for the purpose of invoking the protection of the gods. They
were to entreat for the well-being of the empire by an impressive and
unanimous demonstration. But it was significant that, at the same time,
exact supervision of the edict’s implementation was ordered throughout the
empire. Commissions were set up to see that the sacrifice was performed,
and to issue everyone with a certificate, or libellus. 36 Before a certain date
the libelli were to be exhibited to the authorities; and anyone refusing to
sacrifice was thrown into prison, where attempts were often made to break
his resistance by torture. Although the decree did not explicitly condemn
the Christians, their leading representatives and writers rightly considered
it to be the most serious attack that their Church had yet sustained. It is
impossible to state with precision what motive exercised greater influence
upon the emperor: the opportunity to determine the exact number of
adherents to Christianity, or the expectation of a mass return to the old
State religion. The undoubted initial success of the measures favours the
latter motive. The bitter laments of the bishops Dionysius of Alexandria and
Cyprian of Carthage leave no doubt that the number of those who in one
way or another met the demand of the edict especially in Egypt and North
Africa, far exceeded the number of those who refused it. What Origen had
recently remarked was verified to a terrifying extent: the heroic days of his
youth were past. That former spirit had yielded to the laxity and barrenness
of the present. 37 Some of the Christians of Alexandria appeared before the
commission trembling with fear, and performed the sacrificial rite as
required; others denied that they had ever been Christians, and still others
fled. Many offered sacrifice when on the point of arrest; others endured a
few days in prison refusing to sacrifice until they were due to appear in
court; and some submitted only after torture . 38 In North Africa many
Christians thought they could avoid a decision by not actually offering
sacrifice. They secured for themselves from a member of the verification
commission, through bribery or other means, a certificate of having done so.
These were the so-called libellatici, whose fault was not considered as grave
as that of the thurificati who offered incense or of the sacrificati who offered
35 Cyprian, Ep. 37, 2; 6, 3-9, 1. Cf. Duchesne LP, I 4.

36 Forty-three such libelli have been found so far on Egyptian papyri.
37 Origen, In Ierem. hom. 4, 3.
38 Euseb. HE 6, 41, 10-13.
223
a full sacrifice before the image of the gods. 39 In Rome, some Christians
resorted to the device of having their libelli taken and attested by
intermediaries. 40 The large number of the lapsi in North Africa is proved
by Cyprian’s statement that, when the danger slackened, they flocked to those
who had confessed the faith, in order to obtain “letters of peace” from them
and facilitate their readmission into the Christian community. 41 The Bishop
of Carthage felt it particularly disturbing that two of his own fellow-
bishops in North Africa were among those who fell away. One of them had
even persuaded the majority of his flock to offer sacrifice, and the other
subsequently wished to remain in office without making atonement. He had
also to number two Spanish bishops among the libellatici .42 In the East, the
martyr Pionius saw his own bishop zealously arranging the precise
accomplishment of the ritual of sacrifice. 434
In contrast to these, however, there was in every province of the empire
an elite ready to answer for their belief with their lives. Here, too,
Cyprian’s letters provide the most informative account of the situation in
North Africa. He had sought out a place of refuge in the neighbourhood of
Carthage, but was able to keep in touch with his flock by correspondence
and convey words of encouragement and consolation to the Christians who
were already under arrest. Those in prison, including many women and
children, showed an intense and genuine longing for martyrdom that was
not always fulfilled, for many were released even before the end of the
persecution. Cyprian deplored the pride and moral lapses by which some of
these latter detracted from the worth of their true confession of faith, but he
was able to enroll others among his clergy, so exemplary was their
behaviour. Cyprian does not give exact figures regarding those who offered
the sacrifices, and names only a few of the confessores.Ai Naturally, the
number of those put to death, the martyres coronati or consummati, was
smaller by comparison. Cyprian mentions two by name, but presupposes a
larger number. The confessor Lucianus once mentions sixteen by name, most
of whom were left to die of hunger in prison . 45 In Rome, too, Christians
were released from gaol after resolutely confessing their faith, among them
a certain Celerinus whose brave bearing so impressed the emperor Decius
that he gave him his freedom; Cyprian later ordained him lector. 46 The
case of the two Spanish bishops mentioned above reveals that the commission
39 Cyprian, De laps, passim, and Ep. 55, 2.

40 Ibid. Ep. 30, 3.
41 Ep. 20, 2.
42 Ep. 65, 1; 59, 10; 67, 6.
43 Mart. Pionii 15, 2; 16, 1; 18, 12.
44 Cyprian, Ep. 6, 10, 13, 38, 40.
45 Ep. 10 and 22.
46 Ep. 37 and 39.
224
was effective in Spain, but we have no certain information about Gaul. For
Egypt, Bishop Dionysius of Alexandria mentions the kind of death suffered
by fourteen martyrs: ten of them died at the stake and four by the sword.
But he knew of numerous other martyrs in the towns and villages of that
country, just as he knew that many Christians died of hunger and cold
while fleeing from persecution. Finally, he mentions also a group of five
Christian soldiers who voluntarily confessed their faith when they
encouraged a waverer to stand fast; because of their outspoken courage the
court left them unmolested. 47 In neighbouring Palestine Bishop Alexander
of Jerusalem died a m artyr’s death at that time, as did Bishop Babylas, the
leader of the Antioch community . 48 The aged Origen’s longing for
martyrdom was at least partly satisfied in Caesaria where he was subjected
to cruel torture. The fundamentally trustworthy account of the five
Christians of Smyrna who were imprisoned, and of whom Pionius was burnt
to death, is the only echo of the effects of the Decian persecution in Asia
proconsularis. 49 Gregory of Nyssa provides late and vague reports about
events in Pontus: he tells us that numerous Christians were arrested under
Decius, while their bishop, Gregory Thaumaturgus, fled with many others.50
A host of further accounts of early Christian martyrs places the death of
their heroes in Decius’s reign. As sources they are worthless, for the cult of
these alleged martyrs cannot in any way be substantiated and perhaps their
martyrdom was attributed to Decius’s persecution only because he had
acquired the reputation in later times of being one of the cruellest persecutors
of the Christians . 51
The rapid cessation of the Decian persecution is in a sense surprising. One
would have expected that the considerable initial success attained by such
shock tactics would have been exploited and deepened by further systematic
measures. The impression gained is that the administrative apparatus was
overtaxed by so extensive an undertaking. The departure of the emperor
for the Danubian provinces, occasioned by a new invasion of the Goths,
halted it completely; and his death on the battle-field prevented its rapid
resumption. From the point of view of Roman government, no tangible and
lasting success was gained by this calculated and systematic attack on the
Catholic Church. The great mass of those who had fallen away soon
clamoured to be received into the Church again, while many libellattci
atoned for their fault by a new confession of faith shortly after their lapse.
The number of former Christians won over to the State religion does not
47 Euseb. HE 6, 41, 14-23; 6, 42, 1-4.

48 Ibid. 6, 39, 2-5.
49 Text in Knopf-Kriiger, Ausgewahlte Martyrerakten (Tubingen, 3rd ed. 1929), 45-57;
on this cf. Delehaye PM, 28-37.
50 Gregory of Nyssa, Panegyr. in Greg. Thanmat. in PG 46, 944-53, esp. 945 D.
51 Delehaye PM, 239 ff.
225
seem to have been particularly high. The Christian community, for its part,
recognized that much within it was decayed and ready to crumble.
Conscious leaders of communities, like Cyprian, were spurred by this
condition to serious reflection, which after long controversies about the
question of penance, was to lead to a regeneration of the Church.
Valerian and Gallienus
The ensuing seven years of tranquillity for the Church (250-7) were
disturbed only by a short wave of persecution in Rome. The emperor
Trebonius Gallus had Cornelius, the head of the Christian community in
Rome, arrested and exiled to Centum Cellae (Civita Vecchia), where he died
in 253.52 The latter’s successor, Lucius (253-4),53 was likewise banished,
but the death of the emperor soon permitted his return to Rome. Dionysius,
Bishop of Alexandria, reports arrests in Egypt also occurring at that
time. 54 Gallus’s repressive action was probably aimed at indulging
popular sentiment, which blamed the Christians for the plague then
devastating the empire. The first years of the reign of his successor.
Valerian (253-60) produced for the Church a situation which Dionysius of
Alexandria celebrates in enthusiastic tones. No predecessor of Valerian had
been so well-disposed towards the Christians. Indeed so friendly was
Valerian’s attitude that his household was, so to speak, one of God’s
communities. 55 But the fourth year of the emperor’s reign brought a
surprising change, introducing a short but extremely harsh and violent
persecution. Like that of Decius, this policy could have proved a severe
threat to the Church, because it too was based on a well-considered plan.
Dionysius blames the emperor’s minister and later usurper, Macrianus, for
this reaction. Macrianus certainly may have suggested the idea of remedying
the precarious financial state of the empire by confiscating the property
of wealthy Christians. Valerian was probably also impelled by the
threatening situation of the empire in general. He sought to counter a
possible threat from within by a radical move against the Christians. The
plan is clear even in the edict of 257: the blow was to strike the clergy;
bishops, priests, and deacons were to be obliged to offer sacrifice to the gods
and any of them celebrating divine worship or holding assemblies in the
cemeteries were to be punished with death . 56 In North Africa and Egypt,
52 Duchesne LP, I, 150 ff.; Cyprian, Ep. 60 and 61.

53 Cyprian, Ep. 61, 1.
64 Euseb. HE 7, 1.
65 Ibid. 7, 10, 3.
58 Cf. A. Alfoldi, “Der Rechtsstreit zwischen der romischen Kirche und dem Verein
der popinarii” in Klio 31 (1938), 323-48.
226
the leaders of the churches, Cyprian and Dionysius, were at once arrested;
and, in addition, many Christians of the African provinces were condemned
to forced labour in the mines. The edict of 258 took a further decisive step:
clerics who refused the sacrifice were to be immediately put to death. But
this time the leading laity in the Christian communities were also included.
Senators and members of the order of knights were to lose their rank and
possessions, as were their wives; the latter could be punished with
banishment and their husbands with execution, if they refused to offer
sacrifice to the gods. Imperial officials in Rome and the provinces, the
caesariani, were also threatened with forced labour and the confiscation of
their possessions for similar offence. 57 The aim of this policy was clear: the
clergy and prominent members of the Christian communities, who enjoyed
wealth and position, were to be eliminated; and the Christians, thus
deprived of leaders and influence, were to be condemned to insignificance.
The victims were numerous, especially among the clergy. N orth Africa lost
its outstanding bishop in Cyprian, who met his death with unforgettable
dignity. His flock showed their love and respect once again when he was
beheaded, soaking cloths in his blood and interring his remains with reverent
joy . 58 Rome had its most distinguished martyr in Pope Sixtus II, who was
joined in death by his deacons. 59 There is an authentic account of the death
of the Spanish bishop, Fructuosus of Tarragona, and two of his deacons. 60
The head of the Egyptian church, Dionysius of Alexandria, was condemned
only to an exile which he survived. 61 The victims were also numerous
among the lower clergy: in May 259, the deacon James and the lector
Marianus 62 died in Lambaesis, North Africa; there were clerics also in the
group with Lucius and Montanus. 63 The deacon Laurence, later transfigured
by legend, achieved the greatest posthumous fame among the Roman victims
of this persecution. 64 The report of the historian Socrates that Novatian
also died for his Christian convictions in the reign of Valerian was formerly
treated with some reserve. It has recently received considerable support
from the discovery of an epitaph which a certain deacon Gaudentius
dedicated “to the blessed martyr Novatian ” . 65 The proportion of laity
57 Cyprian, Ep. 80.

58 Acta Cypr. in CSEL 3, 3, CX-CXIV; Knopf - Kruger, op. cit. 62-64 (with biblio
graphy).
59 Cyprian, Ep. 80, I.
60 Text in Knopf - Kruger, op. cit. 83-85; on this cf. P. Franchi de Cavalieri in SteT
65 (1935), 183-99, and J. Serra-Vilar6, Fructuos, Auguri i Eulogi, martirs sants de
Tarragona (Tarragona 1936).
61 Euseb. HE 7, 11, 4-6.
62 Martyr, ss. Mariani et Iacobi, Knopf - Kruger, op. cit. 67-74. 88 Ibid. 74-82.
64 H. Delehaye in AnBoll 51 (1938), 34-98.
65 Socrates HE 4, 28; cf. C. Mohlberg in ELit 51 (1937), 242-9; and A. Ferrua in
CivCatt 4 (1944), 232-9.
227
among the victims of the persecution was not inconsiderable: it was

probably quite large in Egypt 60 and highest in North Africa.
The persecution ceased with the tragic end of the emperor who was taken
prisoner by the Persians in 259 and soon died. The general impression left
by the attitude of the Christians on this occasion is far more favourable
than in their previous tribulation. Only in one African record of martyrdom
is there a mention of lapsed Christians. The shock of the Decian persecution
had produced its salutary effect; the Christians met this trial with far more
calm determination than they had displayed eight years previously, and
withstood it extremely well. The political situation both at home and
abroad would have prevented Valerian’s son and successor, Gallienus
(260-8), from continuing the fight against the Christians. But he was not
content, with a merely tacit cessation of the persecution and issued an edict
of his own in the Christians’ favour. This is referred to in a further rescript
of 262 to Dionysius of Alexandria. In this the emperor says that he had
restored their places of worship to the Christians some time previously, and
that nobody was to molest them in these places. 667 This recognition of
ecclesiastical property by the highest civil authority represented a far-
reaching act of toleration, and had a favourable effect on the future of the
Church. Although Christianity was not yet officially recognized thereby as
a religio licita, nevertheless there began with Gallienus’ edict a period of
peace which lasted more than forty years, and which could not but further
its development both within and without. It was with good cause that
Eusebius celebrated this time as a period of glory and freedom for
Christianity. It was possible to build churches without hindrance, and
preach to the barbarians and Greeks, while Christians occupied high offices
of State, and enjoyed warm sympathy everywhere. 68
66 Cyprian, Ep. 76 and 80, and Euseb. HE 7, 11, 18-26.

67 Euseb. HE 7, 13.
68 Ibid. 8, 1, 1-6.
228
C h a p te r 19
Further Development of Christian Literature in the East

in the Third Century
The Beginnings of the Theological School of Alexandria

T he inner consolidation of Christianity in the third century is particularly
evident and impressive in the domain of early patristic literature. More and
more frequently, members of the ruling classes joined the new faith and
felt impelled to serve it by word and writing in ways which corresponded
with their level of culture. This created an essential condition for the
development of a learned theology. The earliest attempts of this kind are
found of course as early as the second century, when educated converts
such as Justin and his pupil Tatian presented themselves publicly in Rome
as teachers of the “new philosophy”, and gave a well-grounded introduction
to the understanding of the Christian faith to a relatively small circle of
pupils . 1
The "schools” of these teachers were not, however, institutions of the
Roman Christian community itself, but private undertakings by learned
Christians. Out of a sense of missionary obligation, and in the manner of
philosophical teachers of the time, these men expounded their religious
beliefs to a circle of those who might be interested, and substantiated them
by constant comparison with other religious trends. In a similar manner
Gnostics like Apelles, Synerus, and Ptolemy, appeared in Rome as private
teachers; and men like Theodotus from Byzantium and perhaps Praxeas,
too, tried within the framework of such private schools to win support
for their particular Monarchian views. While no objection was raised
against the teaching activities of orthodox laymen like Justin, the author
ities of the Roman community took exception to the activities of Gnostic
or Monarchian teachers, and finally excluded them from the community
of the Church. These problems induced the Roman bishops of the third
century to seek to bring private Christian schools under their control and
to transform them into a purely ecclesiastical institution which would
administer the instruction of the catechumens. No theological school within
the proper sense of the word developed either in Rome or elsewhere in the
Latin West, because certain conditions of an intellectual kind were just
not present. Neither were the personalities to whom they might have
been of use. But both prerequisites were existent in great quantity in the
East.
1 Tatian’s pupil Rhodon must also be reckoned among these; he attracted some attention
by his controversy with the Marcionite Apelles, cf. Euseb. HE 5, 13, 5-7.
229
Christian Schools in the East
In the Greek East the Egyptian capital, Alexandria, with its scientific
tradition and the interest generally shown by its educated upper classes
in religious and philosophical questions, was to prove the most favourable
soil for the development of a Christian theology on a learned intellectual
basis. By establishing the two great libraries of the Sarapeion and the
Museion, the first Ptolemies had laid the foundation of that lively interest
in the most varied branches of learning which had developed in Alexander’s
city during the Hellenistic period. This cultural development, especially
in the areas of Hellenistic literature and neo-Platonic philosophy, helped
to create a general atmosphere which was to prove particularly fruitful
when it encountered Christianity. Educated Alexandrians who had adopted
the Christian religion were inevitably moved to confront it with the intense
cultural life around them; and those of them who felt impelled publicly
to account for their faith became the first Christian teachers in the
Egyptian capital. The available sources of information about the beginnings
of Christian teaching in Alexandria are not very rich; only Eusebius speaks
of them in any detail, and his treatment is relatively late and rather un
critical. Nevertheless, the intensive research of recent years has produced
some reliable results. According to these sources it is impossible to speak
of a “school of catechists in Alexandria” as early as the end of the second
century.
The first Christian teacher whose name is known is Pantainus, of Sicilian
origin, who was giving lessons about the year 180, expounding and defend
ing his Christian view of the world; but he was teaching without ecclesias
tical appointment, just as Justin or Tatian had earlier done in Rome. Any
interested person, pagan or Christian, could frequent this private school,
and the syllabus was entirely a matter for the teacher’s judgment. Clement
of Alexandria must be considered to have been the second teacher of this
kind, but he cannot be regarded as the successor of Pantainus at the head
of any school. He publicly taught the “true gnosis” independently of, and
perhaps even simultaneously with Pantainus. The first phase of Origen’s
teaching activity still had this private character. At the request of some
friends who were interested in the Christian religion, he gave up his
position in a grammar school and devoted himself as an independent
teacher to instruction in the Christian religion, which was clearly open to
Christians and pagans alike. It was only later , 2 perhaps about 215, that
he undertook the instruction of catechumens at the request of Bishop
2 There are contradictions in Eusebius’s account. It seems extremely unlikely that a

young man of seventeen would be placed in charge of a school for catechumens; cf.
M. Hornschuh, in 2 KG 71 (1960), 203-7.
230
DEVELOPMENT OF CHRISTIAN LITERATURE IN THE EAST
Demetrius , 3 and so became the ecclesiastically-appointed head of a

catechetical school. He soon further expanded this role assigning the actual
teaching of the catechumens to his friend Heraclas, certainly with the
consent of the bishop. He provided a circle of educated persons and
advanced students with a systematic exposition of the philosophic knowl
edge of the age, crowned by instruction in the Christian religion. 4 In this
respect, Origen had taken a decisive step; the work which Clement before
him had undertaken as a private teacher was now placed directly at the
service of the church of Alexandria, which thereby received a school of
its own in which instruction in the Christian religion was given in no way
inferior in quality to the contemporary pagan course of education. This
institution alone has a claim to the title of a theological school. It is true
that its real importance was due to the intellectual quality of the man
who was its leader and soul until the year 230. And it is not surprising
that Origen’s bold step was received with some reserve: he soon had to
defend himself against the accusation of attributing too much importance
to profane philosophy , 5 but the success and enthusiastic support of his
students made him keep to the path he had taken. When the rift between
Origen and Bishop Demetrius led to his quitting the country, the
Alexandrian school of theologians quickly reverted to a simple school for
catechumens, giving to those seeking baptism their first introduction to the
Christian religion. Origen took the nature and spirit of his foundation
with him to Caesarea and Palestine. Here he tried until his death to realize
his ideal of a Christian institute for advanced teaching, this time with the
full approval of the Palestinian episcopate.
After Origen’s death, it is only possible to speak of an Alexandrian
theological school in a wider sense; we can only denote a theology bearing
the characteristic marks which the two first great Alexandrians, Clement
and Origen, gave it: namely, the drawing of philosophy into the service
of theology, a predilection for the allegorical method of scriptural exegesis,
and a strong tendency to penetrate by speculation on an idealistic basis the
supernatural content of the truths of revelation.
Clement of Alexandria
While none of the writings of the first Alexandrian teacher, has come down
to us,® three longer works and a small treatise survive from the pen of
* Euseb. HE 6, 14, 11.
4 Ibid. 6, 18, 3—4. Origen expounds his educational ideal in a letter to his pupil Gregory
of Neo-Caesarea: Ep. ad Greg. 1.
5 Euseb. HE 6, 19, 13-14.
6 H.-I. Marrou considers he may well be the author of the Letter to Diognetus; cf.
Marrou’s ed., SourcesChr 33 (1951), 266 ff.
231
Clement. Though they are merely the remnants of a more extensive

production, they permit us to form an impression of his characteristics as
a writer, his theological interests, and the aim of his teaching. Clement
was the son of a pagan family of Athens, became a Christian in adult life
and, after extensive travels, reached Alexandria towards the end of the
second century. There he was active as a Christian teacher until the
persecution under Septimius Severus forced him to emigrate to Asia Minor
about the year 2 0 2 , and he died still in this area, about 215.
Clement’s secular learning is shown by the very title of the first of the
three main works mentioned above. On the model of Aristotle, Epicurus,
and Chrysippus, he too wrote a Protrepticus, a discourse of admonition
and propaganda, which presupposes educated pagan readers who are to
be won over to his “philosophy”. His aim is, therefore, in fact the same
as that of previous apologists, but his work is far superior to their writings
in form and tone. Naturally, in a Christian apologia, polemic against
pagan polytheism could not be lacking, but it is conducted by Clement in
a calm and thoughtful manner. He concedes that many of the pagan
philosophers, Plato above all, were on the way to a knowledge of the true
God; but full knowledge, and with it eternal salvation and the satisfaction
of all human aspiration, was only brought by the Logos, Jesus Christ, who
summons all men, Hellenes and barbarians, to follow him. A level of
discourse on the Christian faith was here attained that had not been known
before, and one which could appeal to a cultivated pagan. Many a discern
ing reader must have had the impression that inquiry into this religion and
discussion with its enthusiastic spokesman might be worthwhile.
Anyone who allows himself to be won over as a follower of the Logos
must entrust himself absolutely to the latter’s educative power. Clement’s
second main work, the Paidagogus, is therefore intended as a guide in this
respect, and at the same time as an aid to training in Christian things. The
fundamental attitude required is first developed: the Logos-Paidagogos
has provided by his life and commands in Holy Scripture the standards
by which the life of a Christian should be directed; the Christian who acts
in accordance with them fulfills to a higher degree the “duties” to which,
for example, an adherent of the Stoic philosophy knows he is obliged,
since the demands of the Logos are in the fullest sense “in conformity with
reason”. Clement illustrates the application of this basic principle with
many examples from daily life, and displays a gift of discernment and a
balanced and fundamentally affirmative attitude to cultural values. Both
Christian ascesis and Christian love of one’s neighbour must prove
themselves in the actual circumstances of civilization. The magnificent
hymn to the Paidagogus Christ, which ends this work , 7 effectively
7 Paidag. 3, 12, 101.
232
emphasizes the position occupied by the person of Christ in Clement’s

personal piety.
Their formal treatment and intellectual structure show that the Pro-
trepticus and the Paidagogus are essentially related works. The second
further suggests8 that Clement intended to complete a literary trilogy
with another work, the Didascalos, which was to follow the others and
offer a systematic exposition of the chief doctrines of Christianity. But
the third surviving work, the Stromata, cannot be considered as the
conclusion of this trilogy, for its themes are quite different from those
announced, and in style and form it in no way corresponds to the first
and second studies. The title itself indicates its literary category: a number
and variety of questions are treated in an informal manner, as in the
Deipnosophistae of Athenaeus, or the Attic Nights of Aulus Gellius, and
are intended in the first place to appeal to pagans interested in religious
and philosophical matters. There is good reason to think that these
questions relate to the themes which Clement treated in his oral teaching,
and that consequently their very form reveals the marks of their origin . 9
One purpose certainly pervades the whole work: to prove by reasoned
confrontation with contemporary Gnosticism that the Christian religion
is the only true gnosis, and to represent the faithful Christian as the true
Gnostic.
At baptism every Christian receives the Holy Spirit and thereby the
capacity to rise from simple belief to an ever more perfect knowledge; but
only those rise to attain it in fact who perpetually strive to do so, and who
struggle for ever greater perfection in their manner of life. Only by an
increasing effort of self-education and by penetrating more and more
deeply into the gospel, and that solely within the Church, which is the
“only virgin Mother” , 10 does a man become a true Gnostic and so surpass
the cultural ideal of the “wise man” of pagan philosophy. That pagan
ideal certainly represents a value which must be acknowledged, but it is
only a preliminary stage. The model of the Christian Gnostic is the figure
of Christ, whom he must come to resemble, and by following whom he
becomes an image of God . 11 Linked with this is a perpetual growth in the
love of God, which makes possible for the Gnostic a life of unceasing
prayer, makes him see God and imparts to him a resemblance to God.
This ascent from step to step, does not, however, remove the true Gnostic
from the company of his brethren to whom such an ascent has not been
granted; rather does he serve them, ever ready to help, and summons them
8 Ibid. 1, 1, 3.
9 Cf. A. Knauber in TThZ 60 (1951), 249 ff.
10 Paidag. 1, 6, 42.
11 Strom. 7, 13, 2.
233
to follow his path by the example of the purity of his life. Such practical
questions of actual living stand in the centre of Clement’s thought and
teaching. Speculative theological problems occupy only the fringe of his
interests. He takes over the idea of the Logos from St John, but does not
penetrate more deeply into it. The Logos is united with the Father and the
Holy Spirit in the divine Trias; the world was created by him, and he
revealed God with increasing clarity, first in the Jewish Law, then in
Greek philosophy, and finally in becoming man. By his blood mankind
was redeemed, and men still drink his blood in order to share in his
immortality . 12 The Redeemer Christ recedes, for Clement, behind the
Logos as teacher and lawgiver. He did not further speculative theology
properly so-called, but he is the first comprehensive theorist of Christian
striving after perfection, and posterity allowed him to be forgotten far
too readily.
Origen
Fortune did not favour the life-work of Origen, the greatest of the
Alexandrian teachers and the most important theologian of Eastern
Christianity. The greater part of his writings has perished because the
violent quarrels which broke out concerning his orthodoxy led to his
condemnation by the Synod of Constantinople in 553. As a consequence,
his theological reputation suffered for a long time, and the reading of his
works was proscribed. Few of these works remain in his Greek mother-
tongue, and the greater part of his biblical homilies has survived only in
Latin translations, notably those by Jerome and Rufinus. Friends and
admirers in the third and fourth centuries preserved a little of his canon
and this helps to throw light on the aim and purpose of his life’s work, the
most useful of this evidence being preserved in the sixth book of Eusebius’
Ecclesiastical History. Though this sketch is transfigured by retrospect
vision, Eusebius had at his disposal a collection of Origen’s letters, and
obtained many details from men who had known him personally in
Caesarea.
The first decisive influence on Origen was that of the Christian atmos
phere of his parents’ home. 13 There he inherited and never lost the high
courage to confess his faith, and the constant readiness to be active in the
ecclesiastical community. An excellent education in secular studies made
it possible for him, after the martyr’s death of his father, Leonides, to
support the family by teaching in a grammar school. Quite soon, while
12 Paidag. 2, 19, 4.
18 Eusebius’s precise details are to be preferred in this to Porphyry’s vague allusions
to a pagan period in Origen’s life. It is certainly correct that Origen was familiar with
Greek culture.
234
instructing interested pagans in the Christian faith on his own initiative,

he felt the need of a deeper philosophical training; and this he found in
the lectures of the neo-Platonist Ammonius Saccas, whose influence on
him was strong and lasting. Journeys in his early manhood took him to
Caesarea in Palestine, where he became a friend of the bishop, Theoctistus,
and of Alexander, the head of the Jerusalem community, to Arabia at the
invitation of the imperial governor; and also to the West, where he
travelled to Rome. These journeys gave him a vivid idea of the life of the
Church as a whole, and strengthened his inclination to work everywhere
through his lectures for a deeper understanding of Scripture and belief.
His appointment as teacher of the catechumens and his duties as head
of the theological school in Alexandria brought his rich intellectual and
spiritual powers to full development, and initiated the creative period of
his life. This was not fundamentally disturbed when, in the years 230-1,
conflict with Bishop Demetrius forced him to transfer his activities to
Caesarea in Palestine. The ostensible cause of his estrangement from the
local bishop was his ordination to the priesthood without the former’s
knowledge. It was conferred on him by Palestinian bishops, although
Origen, being a eunuch (he had castrated himself in a youthful excess of
asceticism), was not, according to the views of the time, a suitable
candidate. The deeper reason, however, was the bishop’s inability to have
a man of such high reputation and intellectual quality by his side. The
understanding which was shown to Origen in his second sphere of activity,
namely in Palestine, was munificently repaid by him; for, in addition to
his actual teaching, he served the life of the Church directly, both by his
tireless preaching and by public theological discussions about problems of
the day, which repeatedly took him as far as Arabia. He had occasion to
crown his fidelity to faith and Church by manfully confessing the faith
during the Decian persecution, when he was imprisoned and subjected to
cruel torture. About the year 253 or 254 he died in Tyre as a result of
this treatment, when nearly seventy years of age.
The kernel of Origen’s theological achievement was his work on the
Bible, his efforts for its better understanding and the use made of it to
create a right attitude in belief and true piety. The bulk of his literary
production derived from this concern. It took the form of critical and
philological work on the text of Scripture, scientific commentaries on
individual books, and finally in his abundant discourses on the Bible, which
were recorded by stenographers and later published. These are works of
edification; not merely intellectually stimulating, they delve into the
ultimate depths of Christian life. The impressive undertaking of the
H exapla 14 served to establish a trustworthy text of the Bible. It presented
14 See Quasten P, II, 44 ff., and G. Mercati, Psalterii Hexapli reliquiae I (Rome 1958).
235
in six parallel columns the original Hebrew in Hebrew characters, a Greek

transcription, the translations by Aquila and Symmachus, the Septuagint
and the Theodotion translation. What was probably the only copy of this
work was placed in the library of Caesarea, where it could still be consulted
in the time of Jerome and even later. A particularly hard fate overtook
the great scriptural commentaries; many of which perished completely,
or did so with the exception of a few fragments, such as the commentaries
on Genesis, the Psalms, Proverbs, Isaias, Ezechiel, the Minor Prophets,
Luke, and most of the Epistles of St Paul. Larger portions of the commen
taries on the Canticle of Canticles, the Gospels of St Matthew and St John
were preserved, partly in Greek and partly in Latin translations. The works
which most frequently survived were homilies, particularly esteemed for
their pastoral use of the Old Testament. About six hundred of them have
come down to us, but only twenty-one in the original Greek.
It was with an attitude of deepest reverence that Origen undertook this
service of Holy Scripture; for in it he encountered the living word of God
which it embodies. Consequently, the understanding of Holy Scripture is
for him “the art of arts” and “the science of sciences” . 15 And just as all
events take place in mysteries, so Scripture also is full of mysteries which
unveil themselves only to one who implores this revelation in insistent
prayer . 16 From this consideration sprang Origen’s spontaneous appeals to
“his Lord Jesus” to show him the way to a right interpretation of a difficult
passage of Scripture. 17 He knew that this is only found when the deeper
spiritual and divine sense is recognized, that which is hidden behind the
letter is the treasure hidden in a field. That is why the allegorical inter
pretation of Scripture was not for Origen merely a traditional and easily
applied method, taken over from the exposition of secular texts. It was often
a compelling necessity for him, absolutely essential if what is sometimes
offensive in the purely literal sense of Scripture is to be transcended. Origen
was fully aware that allegory has its limits. 1891Nevertheless, in the hand of
the master and despite all errors in detail, this method remains the path that
leads him to the very heart of Scripture, affording ultimate religious insight
and knowledge.
The daily reading of Scripture, to which Origen exhorts us, 10 became for
him the well-spring of his personal religious life; and it also made him a
teacher of the Christian ideal of striving after perfection, whose subsequent
influence was immeasurable: first on Eastern monasticism, and then in the
Latin West, by way of St Ambrose. The ultimate goal of the ascent to
15 In Ioannem comm. 13, 46.

18 In Exod. horn. 1, 4; Ep. ad Greg. 4.
17 In Levit. horn. 1, 1; 5, 5; In Matth. comm. 10, 5.
18 In Num. horn. 9, 1.
19 In Gen. horn. 10, 3.
236
perfection is the resemblance to God, to which man was called when God
created him in his own image and likeness. The surest way to this goal is the
imitation of Christ; and to be so centred on Christ is the characteristic
attitude of Origen’s piety, just as later the principle “Christus” was the
basic concept of his pupil, Ambrose of Milan . 20 A man who imitates Christ
chooses life and chooses light. 21 A presupposition for the success of this
imitation is correct self-knowledge, which brings awareness of one’s own
sinfulness; and this, in turn, imposes a stubborn fight against the perils
which threaten from world and from one’s own passions. Only a person
who has reached apatheia is capable of further mystical ascent, but this
cannot be attained without a serious ascetic effort, in which fasting and
vigils have their place just as much as the reading of Scripture and the
exercise of humility . 22 Those who, following Christ’s example, freely
choose a celibate life and virginity will more easily reach the goal. 23 The
ascent to mystical union with the Logos takes place by degrees, a progress
which Origen sees prefigured in the journey of the people of Israel through
the desert to the promised land . 24 The profound yearning for Christ is
fulfilled in a union with him which is accomplished in the form of a
mystical marriage ; 25*Christ becomes the bridegroom of the soul, which in
a mystical embrace receives the vulnus amoris.26 Origen here is not only the
first representative of a profound devotion to Jesus, but also the founder of
an already richly developed Christocentric and bridal mysticism, from
which the medieval Christocentric spirituality of William of St Thierry and
Bernard of Clairvaux derived, and from which it drew considerable
substance. In this way the personality of the great Alexandrian had its
deepest ultimate influence precisely where it is most authentically evident:
in its calm, limpid, and yet ardent love for Christ.
While in Alexandria, Origen wrote a systematic exposition of the chief
doctrines of Christianity. He gave this first dogmatic handbook in the
history of Christian theology the title Ilepl dpytov (Concerning Principles),
and dealt in four books with the central questions concerning God,
the creation of the world, the fall of man, redemption through
Jesus Christ, sin, freedom of the will, and Holy Scripture as
a source of belief. The Greek original has perished, as has also
the literal Latin translation made by Jerome. This surviving version by
Rufinus, has smoothed down or eliminated entirely many things to which
20 Cf. K. Baus, in RQ 49 (1954), 26-29.

21 In Levit. hom. 9, 10.
22 In Ierem. hom. 8, 4; In Exod. hom. 13, 5.
23 In Num. hom. 24, 2; In Cant. comm. 2, 155.
24 In Num. hom. 27.
25 In Cant. comm. 1.
28 Ibid. 2, 8.
237
objection might be raised. There is, consequently, some uncertainty about

the precise view which Origen held on certain questions. 27
In his introduction, Origen speaks with great clarity about the principles
of method which guided him in his work; Scripture and tradition are the
two primary sources for his exposition of Christian doctrine. He knows
that they cannot be approached with a philosopher’s inquiry, but only with
the attitude of a believer. The Old and New Testaments, the books of Law,
the Prophets and the Epistles of St Paul: all contain the words of Christ and
are a rule of life for the Christian, because they are inspired. 28 The authority
of the Church guarantees that no spurious writings intrude; only what is
accepted in all the communities as indubitably Holy Scripture is free from
the suspicion of being apocryphal. 29 Only that truth can be received in
faith which does not contradict ecclesiastical and apostolic tradition, and this
is found in the teaching of the Church which per successions ordinem was
handed down from the apostles. 30 Consequently, the Church is not only
intended to be the guardian of Holy Scripture, but is also its authentic
interpreter, for she alone has received from Christ the light which
enlightens those who dwell in darkness. 31 She is the true Ark in which alone
men can find salvation: the house which is marked with the blood of Christ
and outside which there is no redemption. 32 She is like a fortified city, and
anyone who remains outside her walls is captured and killed by the enemy. 33
Men enter Jesus’ house by thinking like the Church and living according to
her spirit. 34
As the rule of faith contains only the necessary fundamental doctrines
preached by the apostles, without giving further reasons for them or
showing in any detail their inner connexions, a wide field of activity remains
open to theology. According to Origen, this is where the task lies for those
who are called to it by the Holy Spirit through the special gifts of wisdom
and knowledge. Theirs is the vocation of penetrating deeper into the truths
of revelation and of framing by an appropriate method a theological system
from Scripture and tradition . 35 The execution of his own project makes it
plain that Origen was not a born systematizer; he had not the power to
carry through his conception on a strictly logical plan. But of much greater
27 Cf. M. Harl, “Recherches sur le Ilepl ap/tov d’Origene en vue d’une nouvelle Edition”
in Studia Patristica 3 (Berlin 1961), 57-67.
28 Origen, De princ. praef. 1; In Matth. comm. 46.
29 De princ. praef. 8; In Matth. comm. 61.
30 De princ. praef. 2.
31 In Gen. horn. 1, 5.
32 Ibid. 2, 3; In Jesu Nave horn. 3, 5.
33 In Ierem. horn. 5, 16.
34 Disput. cum Heracl. 15.
35 De princ. praef. 3 and 10.
238
weight than this imperfection of form, are the particular theological views
which gave rise to the later controversies about their author’s orthodoxy. In
his doctrine of the Trinity, Origen still thinks in Subordinationist terms:
only the Father is 6 0so<; or auxiOstx;: the Logos, of course, likewise possesses
the divine nature, but in regard to the Father he can only be called SeuTspo?
0 s6 c.36Yet Origen clearly expresses the eternity of the Logos and
characterizes him as opooucno*;;37 and so an advance is made here as
compared with early Subordinationism. Origen, one might say, is on the
path that led to Nicaea. In Christology, too, he devises modes of expression
which point to the future: the union of the two natures in Christ is so close
in his doctrine that the communication of idioms follows from it ; 38 as far as
can now be traced the term God-man,0eav0po)7ro<;, first occurs with Origen,
and probably he prepared the way for the term 0 £ o to x o <;.39 Origen also
followed paths of his own in the doctrine of Creation; before the present
world, a world of perfect spirits existed to which the souls of men then
belonged; these were, therefore, pre-existent. Only a fall from God brought
upon them banishment into matter which God then created. The measure of
their pre-mundane guilt actually determines the measure of grace which
God grants each human being on earth . 40
All creation strives back towards its origin in God, and so is subjected to
a process of purification which can extend over many aeons and in which
all souls, even the evil spirits of the demons and Satan himself, are cleansed
with increasing effect until they are worthy of resurrection and reunion
with God. Then God is once more all-in-all, and the restoration of all things
(a7roxaTaaTacn? t & v 7ravTcov) is attained . 41 The eternity of hell was
practically abandoned as a result of this conception. That a new Fall would
be possible after this process and consequently a new creation of the world
and a further series of purifications necessary, was presented by Origen
merely as an arguable possibility and not as certain Christian teaching.
Critics have reproached Origen with further errors in his theology, which
might be described as spiritualism and esotericism. By this is meant his
tendency to undervalue the material creation and to except the spirit from
the need for redemption, and also his tendency to reserve the innermost
kernel and meaning of the truths of revelation for the circle of the perfect,
the pneumatikoi, or the spiritual ones. Both accusations have a certain
justification but have often been very much exaggerated. Origen recognized
perfectly the proper value of what pertains to the senses and the body, and
88 De princ. 1, 2, 13; Contra Cels. 5, 39.

87 In ep. ad Hebr. fragm.
88 De princ. 2, 6, 3.
89 In Ezech. horn. 3, 3; In Luc. hom. 6, 7.
40 De princ. 2, 8ff.; Contra Cels. 1, 32-3.
41 De princ. 1, 6, 1 and 3; 3, 6, 6; Contra Cels. 8, 72.
239
in fact, saw its importance precisely in its function as an image of a spiritual

world that lies behind it. Consequently, he did not call for its annihilation,
but for its spiritualization and transfiguration. He was likewise convinced
that every baptized person is called on principle to perfection, but that there
are many stages on the way to it, and that every stage can assimilate only
an appropriate part of the truth of revelation. He believed in consequence
that the full grasp of Christian truth is only possible at the final stage.
Like every theological achievement, that of Origen must be judged
according to the possibilities and conditions which the age provided. He
approached theological problems with the equipment and questions of a
third-century man trained in philosophy; and most of the defects of his
theology can be seen to derive from the limits and conditioning circumstances
of this philosophy. But, viewed as a whole, his theological work, and
especially his systematic treatise Concerning Principles, represents a creative
personal achievement and consequently an enormous advance in Christian
theology. For a judgment of the whole, the fact is important that the work
was inspired by the purest ecclesiastical spirit. For all the independence and
freedom of his theological questioning and inquiry, Origen wanted only to
serve the Church, and was always ready to submit to her judgment. “ If I ”,
he once addressed the Church, “I, who bear the name of priest, and have to
preach the word of God, offend against the doctrine of the Church, and the
rule of the gospel and were to become a scandal to the Church, then, may
the whole Church with unanimous decision cut off me, her right hand, and
cast me out .” 42 Such an attitude should have prevented posterity from
proscribing Origen’s work as a whole merely because of particular errors
and mistakes, in the way that happened later.
Dionysius of Alexandria; Methodius; Lucian of Antioch and his School
Subsequent teachers in the school of Alexandria, which after Origen’s

departure, as has been said, assumed once more the character of a school
for catechumens, are overshadowed by their great predecessors. The title
of “great” was given to Dionysius, later bishop of the Egyptian capital
(247-8 to 264-5), more on account of his personal bravery in the Decian
persecution and his zealous activity in ecclesiastical affairs than because of
any theological achievement. The orthodoxy of his teaching on the Trinity
was doubted in Rome, and he attempted to demonstrate it in an apologia
composed in four books against Dionysius, Bishop of Rome. He opposed the
chiliastic ideas of Bishop Nepos of Arsinoe in his work On the Promises, in
which he rejected John the apostle’s authorship of the Apocalypse. 43
42 In Ios. hom. 7, 6.
43 Euseb. HE 7, 24 ff.
240
Dionysius is the first Bishop of Alexandria for whom we have evidence of

the custom of announcing the date of the day of the Resurrection each year
to Egyptian Christendom in the so-called “Easter letters”. With the
exception of two letters, his extensive correspondence has been lost. The
written works of Theognostus and Pierius, Dionysius’s successors at
the head of the school for catechumens, drew on Origen’s achievement.
The Hypotyposes of Theognostus was a dogmatic work, while Pierius
occupied himself more with exegesis and homiletics. 44 Whether Peter, who
was Bishop of Alexandria from about 300, also worked in the catechetical
school is uncertain: the fragments of his treatises indicate particularly
pastoral interest, as do those on penitential regulations and on the Pasch,
though some opposed the alleged errors of Origen.
Other Eastern writers are also found within the range of Origen’s influence,
and their inferior performances make the greatness of the master stand out
in sharper relief. We owe a panegyric on Origen to his pupil Gregory
Thaumaturgus (f c. 270), a miracle-working bishop in central Asia Minor
who was soon transfigured by legend and became a highly honoured figure
in the Byzantine church. Gregory’s panegyric gives an instructive glimpse
at the teaching method of the revered master. The laity, too, took an interest
in theology and exegetical questions. This is proved by Julius Africanus of
Palestine (t post 240), a friend of Origen, who in a letter to the latter
raised doubts about the authenticity of the story of Susanna, and in another
inquired into the genealogies of Jesus in Matthew and Luke. 45 The learned
priest Pamphilus of Caesarea in Palestine sought to serve Origen’s aims by
continuing the tradition of the master in his teaching and learned inquiries.
His interests lay particularly in the text of Scripture, as well as in collecting
Origen’s writings and in taking care of the library founded by Origen in
Caesarea. The Diocletian persecution brought him martyrdom after long
imprisonment (310), during which he wrote an ’A7roXoyta U7tep ’Optyevoix;,
or Defence of Origen, in six books, of which only the first survives in the
Latin translation by Rufinus. 46 The writer Methodius is included in the
opposition that formed against Origen. According to Jerome and Socrates, 47
he was Bishop of Olympus in Lycia, but more probably he lived as an
ascetic and as a private Christian teacher. In his discussion of Origen he
rejected the latter’s doctrine of the pre-existence of souls and the theory of
a cycle of several creations of the world, but could not free himself from
Origen’s allegorical interpretation of Scripture. For his literary works he
44 Fragments in R. Routh, Reliquiae sacrae 3 (Oxford 1846), 405-35; cf. L. B. Radford,

Three Teachers of Alexandria, Theognostus, Pierius and Peter (Cambridge 1908).
45 W. Reichardt, Die Briefe des S. Julius Africanus (Leipzig 1909); E. Blakeney, “Jul.
Africanus” in Theology 29 (1934), 164-9.
48 Euseb. HE 6, 32, 3; PG 17, 521-616.
47 Jerome, De vir. ill. 83; Socrates HE 6, 13.
241
preferred the dialogue form, and he displays a good knowledge of Plato . 48

His Symposium was in fact an important work, especially in its influence
on the history of spirituality. It praises the Christian ideal of virginity and
ends with a famous hymn to Christ the bridegroom and his bride the Church.
The beginnings of the second theological school in the East are no less
obscure than those of the Alexandrian school. It sprang up in the Syrian
capital of Antioch, an important centre of the Hellenic world where
conditions were similar to those in Alexandria. Tradition unanimously
names the Antiochan priest Lucian as founder of the school, which may
have been preceded by undertakings on a smaller scale and more private in
character. In the time of Bishop Paul of Samosata, a priest named Malchion
enjoyed a considerable reputation in Antioch for wide learning, but was a
teacher in a secular Greek school. He demonstrated his superior theological
training in the controversy with Paul of Samosata at the Synod of Antioch
(268) which led to the latter’s condemnation. 49 Another priest of Antioch
whose biblical interests and knowledge of Hebrew were praised, was
Dorotheus, a contemporary of Lucian, but he is not expressly said to have
been a Christian teacher. 50 It is only with Lucian that the records in the
sources become more precise. The fact that Lucian was one of the clergy of
Antioch permits the assumption that his activity as a Christian teacher was
authorized by his bishop. His theological learning, which is praised by
Eusebius, 51 did not find expression in extensive publications. His real
interest was in biblical work and more particularly in a new recension of
the Septuagint, for which he consulted the Hebrew original. It enjoyed
high repute and was widely used in the dioceses of Syria and Asia Minor.
Lucian’s exegetical method must be gathered from the biblical works of his
pupils; it takes principally into account the literal sense and only employs
typological interpretation where the text itself demands it. Similarly, it is
only from the works of his pupils that it is possible to form an idea of
Lucian’s other theological characteristics. He always starts from biblical
data, not from theological presuppositions, and attains, among other things,
a strict Subordinationism in the doctrine of the Logos. This was represented
soon after by Arius and some of his fellow-pupils, the so-called Syllucianists,
and they expressly referred to their teacher for it. The characteristics of the
Antioch school became fully clear only in the great age of the Fathers, in
connexion with the Trinitarian and Christological controversies.
48 Cf. M. Margheritis, “L’influenza di Platone sul pensiero e sull’arte di s. Metodio

d’Olimpo” in Studi Ubaldi (Milan 1937), 401-12. On the dialogue technique, cf. G. Luz-
zati, ibid. 117-24.
49 Euseb. HE 7, 29, 2.
50 Ibid. 7, 32, 3-4.
51 Ibid. 9, 6, 3.
242
C h apter 20
The Development of Christian Literature in the West in the Third Century
The Rise of Early Christian Latin and the Beginning of a

Christian Literature in Latin. Minucius Felix
T he essentially different course taken by the development of Christian
literature in the West in the third century, particularly in Rome, was
determined by the linguistic tradition of the Roman Christian community,
which at first was composed for the most part of Greek-speaking members
and consequently used Greek for preaching and the liturgy. Only with
the disappearance of the Greek majority did the necessity arise for trans
lating the Holy Scriptures of the new faith into Latin, of preaching in
Latin, and finally of using Latin as a liturgical language too. The first
traces of the existence of a Latin Bible extend back, as far as Rome is
concerned, into the latter half of the second century, for the Latin trans
lation of the First Letter of Clement must have been made at that
time.
In Africa, at the turn of the century, Tertullian also quoted from a Latin
Bible which he had at hand. The unknown translators thereby initiated
the development of early Christian Latin, and with this achievement
created the conditions for the rise of an independent Christian literature
in the Latin tongue. Old Christian Latin was firmly based in one respect
on the colloquial language of the common people, to whom the missionaries
at first addressed themselves. On the other hand, it borrowed certain words
from the Greek, for many Latin words were impossible to employ because
of their previous use in pagan worship. And, finally, for many central
concepts of Christian revelation and preaching, existing Latin terms had
to be given a new content. In this way there arose, by a lengthy and
extremely important process, a sector of early Christian Latin within the
wider field of later Latin. It is clearly distinct from the language of secular
literature, possessing its own unmistakable style. No single person, there
fore, created early Christian Latin: not even Tertullian, the first writer
to attest its existence through his writings. Naturally, it took a certain
time for this Christian Latin to acquire such flexibility and clarity that
it could be used for more important literary works. It is characteristic
that the theological discussions in Rome at the end of the second and in
the third centuries were still conducted to a large extent in Greek. Justin
wrote his Apologia in Greek; Marcion and the early disputants in the
Trinitarian controversies were from Asia Minor; and even Hippolytus,
the first theologian of rank to live and write in Rome, was of Eastern
origin, and published his works in the Greek language.
243
A further characteristic of Latin Christian theology in the third century

was that it was not developed in theological schools as was its Eastern
counterpart. There was no lack of institutions for the instruction of
catechumens at key points of Christianization such as Rome and Carthage;
but schools where important theological teachers of Origen’s kind provided
an introduction to the Christian religion for cultivated pagans were
unknown in the West. Tertullian, it is true, exercised a strong influence,
and Novatian was certainly a theologian of importance; but neither of
them was head of a school in its proper sense.
The Octavius Dialogue of Minucius Felix presents a defence of Chris
tianity written in a distinguished and polished style by a lawyer trained
in philosophy who was particularly influenced by Stoic thought. Caecilius,
the pagan speaker in this dialogue, views pagan polytheism with marked
scepticism, but, because Rome owed its greatness to it, would give it
preference over the Christian religion, whose invisible God seemed to him
a figment of the imagination, whose adherents were without culture and
gave themselves up to shameless orgies. The Christian Octavius proves by
purely philosophical arguments, without any appeal to Holy Scripture,
that a sceptical standpoint on religious questions is untenable, and he
rejects as calumnies the accusations made against the Christians. The
dialogue does not go deeper into the content of the Christian faith. Its
diction is still free from the typical features of early Christian Latin, and
its style still strongly recalls the artistically cultivated prose of the later
Antonines. One may for these reasons be inclined to date this elegant
apologia before Tertullian’s Apologeticum in the much-disputed and still
open question of priority.
Hippolytus
Hippolytus can be regarded as a link between East and West. His person
and work even today present many unsolved problems for research. It
can be said with certainty that he was not a Roman by birth but a man
from the East, thinking Greek and writing Greek, whose home was
possibly Egypt and very likely Alexandria: a true Roman would scarcely
have expressed as low an opinion of Rome’s historical past as Hippolytus
does. 1 He came to Rome probably as early as Pope Zephyrinus’s time and
belonged as a priest to the Christian community there, in which his culture
and intellectual activity assured him considerable prestige. His influence
is evident in all the theological and disciplinary controversies which stirred
Roman Christianity in the opening decades of the third century. His high
conception of the functions of a priest, among which he emphatically
1 See in particular J.-M. Hanssens, La liturgie d'Hippolyte (Rome 1959), 290 f.
244
DEVELOPMENT OF CHRISTIAN LITERATURE IN THE WEST
reckoned the preservation of apostolic traditions, did not permit him to

shrink from bold criticism of the Roman bishops when he thought those
traditions threatened by their attitude and measures. The position he
assumed in the controversy over Modalism must be mentioned later. His
rigoristic attitude on the question of penance made him an irreconcilable
opponent of Bishop Callistus (217-22), and the leader of a numerically
small but intellectually important opposition group. Nevertheless, the
conjecture that he had himself consecrated bishop at that time, and so
became the first anti-pope in the history of the Church, finds no adequate
support in the sources. And there is just as little reliable evidence that it
was the writer Hippolytus whom the emperor Maximinus Thrax banished
to Sardinia with Pope Pontian, that it was he who was there reconciled
to the latter and died in exile. 2 But it is possible that Hippolytus lived
on through the period of the Novatian schism, belonged to this movement
for a while and after being received once more into the Christian com
munity survived until later than 253.3 Both Eusebius and Jerome give a
list of his writings ; 4 and their titles reveal him as a writer having such
notable breadth of interest as to suggest comparison with Origen, though
certainly he never achieved the latter’s originality and depth. If the statue
of a teacher which was discovered in 1551 actually represents Hippolytus —
an incomplete catalogue of his works and an Easter calendar are carved
on the side of the teacher’s chair — it is tangible evidence of his reputation.
Hippolytus most clearly shares with Origen an inclination to the study
of Scripture, which he expounds in the same allegorical way, though a
more sober use of this method is unmistakable in his case. It is true that
only a small remnant of his biblical writings has survived, but among them
is a significant commentary on Daniel in the Greek original, and an
exposition of the Canticle of Canticles, complete but in translation. In
the Susanna of the Book of Daniel he considers that the Church, the virgin
bride of Christ, is prefigured, persecuted by Jews and pagans. Likewise
the bride and bridegroom of the Canticle of Canticles are understood as
Christ and his Church, and sometimes the bride is considered to be the
soul that loves God, an interpretation that was taken up particularly by
St Ambrose in his exposition of Psalm 118, and so transmitted to the
Middle Ages.
2 There are sound reasons for supposing that confusion later occurred with another
Hippolytus, who was also a priest and who was honoured as a martyr: cf. Hanssens,
op. cit. 317—40. It would then be the latter Hippolytus who was referred to in the
Depositio martyrum of 354.
8 The supposition is based chiefly on a letter written to Rome in 253 by Dionysius of
Alexandria, which presupposed that Hippolytus was still alive; cf. Euseb. HE 6, 46, 5,
and Hanssens, op. cit. 299 f.
* Euseb. HE 6, 12, and Jerome, De vir. ill. 61.
245
Anxiety for the preservation of apostolic traditions was the second

motive determining Hippolytus’s work as a writer. They seemed to him
threatened in doctrine and in the performance of divine worship. Con
sequently, he wrote a Church Order designed to ensure the maintenance
of traditional forms in the most important rules and formulas for con
ferring Orders, the various functions of ecclesiastical offices, the conferring
of baptism, and the celebration of the eucharist. This Traditio Apostolica
no longer survives in its original language, but it forms the kernel of a
series of further Church Orders such as the Apostolic Order, the Testament
of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Canons of Hippolytus and the eight books
of the Apostolic Constitutions. Its principle impact was felt in the East,
especially in Egypt, as the many translations into Coptic, Ethiopic, and
Arabic show, while the Latin version (c. 500) is incomplete. For Hippolytus,
his Church Order probably represented an ideal form which was not
designed for the needs of a particular community, but intended to provide
a norm by which the Church leaders could test the conformity of their
liturgical prescriptions with apostolic tradition . 5* It drew its material
chiefly from Eastern sources, and consequently cannot be regarded as a
Ritual which Hippolytus based on the liturgical forms customary in Rome
at the beginning of the third century.
The anti-heretical dogmatic writings of Hippolytus served to safeguard
apostolic tradition in doctrine. An early work was his Syntagma against
thirty-two heresies, treating of the erroneous doctrines which had appeared
in the course of history down to his own day. Unfortunately only its
concluding part, which refutes the teaching of Noetus, is extant. Another
anti-heretical work is attributed to Hippolytus: The Refutation of All
Heresies, also called the Philosophoumena, which indicated in its first part
the errors of pagan philosophers and the aberrations of pagan religions
(Book 1-4), and then proceeded to oppose the Gnostic systems in particular
(Books 5-9). The argument in this work owes a great deal to Irenaeus. The
Tenth Book provides a recapitulation of the whole work, and adds a brief
account of the content of Christian belief. The chief purpose of the author
is to demonstrate his thesis that the root of all heresies is that they did not
follow Christ, Holy Scripture, and tradition, but reverted instead to pagan
doctrines.® The historical transmission of this work is extremely confused.
The First Book was ascribed to Origen, but the manuscript containing
Books 4-10 was not discovered until 1842 and names no author. Only the
fact that the writer refers to other works of Hippolytus as his own
writings 7 — his Chronicle and his study On the Universe — makes the
5 See Trad, apost., ed. E. Hauler, Didascaliae Apostolorum Fragmenta Veronensia (Leipzig
1900), 56,1-13; 78, 30—5; 80, 30-5.
• Refut., praef. 7 Ibid. 10, 30 and 32.
2 46
attribution to Hippolytus at all possible. The Philosopboumena have very

much the character of a compilation, and give the impression of being a
first draft which did not receive further revision. The polemic is caustic
and oversteps all bounds when a personal opponent is attacked, so that
an Hippolytus different from the author of his other works seems to be
speaking here. 8 The concept of the Church, which the Philosopboumena
express, is particularly striking. In the commentary on Daniel and the
exposition of the Canticle of Canticles the Church appears as the spotless
bride of Christ, permitting no place for a person who has incurred grievous
moral guilt, but here in the controversy with Callistus the Church is
addressed as the bearer and safeguard of truth, whose purity and authentic
ity have to be watched over by bishops in legitimate apostolic succession.
The author turns passionately against those who forget their task and who,
though appointed members of the hierarchy, open too wide to sinners the
gate of the Church of the saints.
Novatian
Novatian may be considered as the first Roman theologian of importance,

but his culture and gifts had to overcome manifold contradictions within
the Roman community. Although he had received only the baptism of
the sick, and so, according to the conception of the time, displayed a lack
of courage to confess the Faith, Pope Fabian had nevertheless ordained
him priest; 9 and about the year 250 he played a decisive role in the Pope’s
collegium. When the papal see was vacant, he continued the correspondence
of the Roman Church with other communities abroad, and in two or three
letters to Cyprian 10 expounded the Roman position concerning the treat
ment of those who had lapsed during persecution, a position identical with
Cyprian’s prudent practice. About 250 Novatian wrote his chief theological
treatise on the Trinity. Here he made use of the work of earlier theologians,
especially Hippolytus and Tertullian, and carefully formulated the state
of the question in clear language of much formal distinction. The theology
of Marcion is rejected in his treatise, as well as the Modalist conception
of the Monarchians; Novatian propounds a very definite Subordinationism,
which however much it emphasizes Christ’s Godhead subordinates him to
8 This caused P. Nautin to ascribe the Philosopboumena, the Chronicle, and the work
On the Universe to another author, whom he called Josipos. Even if his arguments are
not convincing on this, he clearly perceived and rightly emphasized the striking difference
of style and particular range of themes in the Philosopboumena as compared with the
other writings of Hippolytus.
9 See Euseb. HE 6, 43, 6-22; cf. also ibid, for the one-sided characterization of Novatian
by Cornelius.
10 In Cyprian’s Letters, nos. 30, 36, and perhaps 31.
247
the Father almost more strictly than in earlier theology. He expresses

himself very briefly on the relation of the Holy Spirit to the Son and the
Father, but here too emphasizes the subordination of the Spirit to the Son.
He lays great stress on the role of the Holy Spirit within the Church, which
is preserved by his gifts inviolate in holiness and truth. This work of
Novatian brought the theology of the Trinity in the West before Con
stantine’s time provisionally to an end, until Augustine later revived dis
cussion on the subject.
Novatian’s other writings are pastoral in character and belong to the
later phase of his life when, after leaving the Roman community, he led
his own rigoristic, strictly organized society, as its bishop. His separation
from the Roman community was due in the first place to personal motives
especially aroused when Cornelius was preferred to him in the election
of bishop in 251. The rift became irreparable when Novatian tried to
justify his own secession by a concept according to which there could be
no place for a mortal sinner in the Church of the saints, however ready
he might be to atone by penance. While African circles, contrary to
Novatian’s expectation, ultimately refused him a following, he found
numerous adherents in the East, who regarded themselves as the Church
of the “pure” (xaOapof) . 11 Dionysius of Alexandria had difficulty in
preventing a greater defection than occurred, 12 and in the West a synod
of sixty bishops under the leadership of Pope Cornelius clarified the
situation by excommunicating Novatian and his followers. The first of
Novatian’s three pastoral letters to his communities deals with the question
of the obligation of Jewish food laws, which he rejected; the second adopts
a negative position on visits to the pagan theatre and circus; the third, De
bono pudicitiae, presents a lofty exposition of the early Christian ideal of
chastity in which marital fidelity and high esteem of virginity are forcefully
proclaimed. Regarding Novatian’s end, we have only the report of Socrates
that he died as a martyr in the persecution by Valerian. An epitaph found
in a catacomb in Rome in 1932, which reads: “Novatiano beatissimo
martyri Gaudentius diaconus fecit”, appears to confirm this report. 13
Tertullian
The contribution made by the young African Church to early Christian

literature in the third century was of greater weight and consequence. All
evidence seems to indicate that Christianity found its way from Rome to
these provinces beyond the sea, and that the first missionaries still used
11 Euseb. HE 6, 43, 1.
12 He tried to persuade Novatian to return; see his letter in Euseb. HE 6, 45.
13 Socrates HE 4, 28; see Chapter 18, above.
248
Greek in their preaching. Towns provided the earliest points of contact

for Christian teaching, especially and above all Carthage, which had
flourished again under Roman rule and where the upper classes were quite
familiar with Greek. 14 But the transition to Latin for preaching and liturgy
took place earlier in Africa than in Rome. The Acts of the Martyrs of
Sciliy the first dated Latin document of Christian origin (a.d. 180),
probably already presupposes a translation of the Pauline epistles into
Latin; a few years later Tertullian used a Latin translation of the Bible,
which was not to his taste; and, about the middle of the third century,
Cyprian quoted it so habitually that it must have been generally known
by that time. 15
The Christian literature which begins with Tertullian vividly reflects
the special features of the world of African Christianity in the third
century. This area was exposed to most grievous tribulations in the per
secutions of the time and had to pay a very heavy toll in blood for its
steadfastness in the faith, which was rewarded by a proportionately rapid
growth of the Church. The African church was characterized to an almost
equal extent by the internal controversies which it suffered with the Gnostic
sects and Montanism, by the struggles for its unity which it waged against
the schismatical movement of Novatian and Felicissimus and, after the
middle of the third century, by the quarrel concerning baptism conferred
by heretics. All this left its mark on the early Christian literature of North
Africa, and gives it its lively and sometimes pugnacious quality. At the
same time the first differences which were to divide the Greek and Latin
literature more and more sharply from each other are already apparent
within it. The latter was not as much concerned as was the East, in
grasping the metaphysical content of revelation and demonstrating its
superiority over Hellenistic religious trends. Its prime interest lay, rather,
in directly practical questions of actual living in pagan surroundings, such
as logically follow from the Christian doctrine of redemption; and it was
concerned, furthermore, with the translation of belief into action, which
demands a fight against sin, and with the positive practice of virtue as a
contribution of the individual Christian to ensuring salvation.
In Tertullian we meet the first and at the same time the most productive
and distinctive writer of pre-Constantinian literature in North Africa. Born
about 160 in Carthage, he was the son of a pagan captain, received a solid
general education in the humanities, and pursued special studies in law and
14 See J. Mesnage, Le christianisme en Afrique, I (Paris 1915); C. Cecchelli, Africa

Christiana, Africa Romana (Rome 1936); G. Bardy, La question des langues dans Veglise
ancienne (Paris 1948), 52-72.
15 See G. D. Aalders, Tertullianus* citaten uit de Evangelien (Amsterdam 1932); B. Botte
in DBS 5 (1952), 334-7; H. J. Vogels, Handbuch der neutestamentlichen Textkritik
(Bonn, 2nd ed. 1955).
249
Greek. He entered the Church as an adult, as a result of the impression

made on him by Christians’ fidelity to their beliefs under persecution, and
immediately placed his wealth of gifts at her service. The sources do not
make it clear whether he became a priest or remained a layman. The period
of his activity as a writer covers approximately a quarter of a century
(c. 195-220), and comprises two parts of roughly equal length but of quite
contrasting nature. Until c. 207 he was a convinced and declared member
of the Catholic Church, but then he joined the Montanist movement and
rejected wholesale what he had previously revered. This change accounts for
a double feature in Tertullian’s nature which is apparent to every reader
of his works. He is a man who gives himself utterly and uncompromisingly
to whatever he professes at any given moment: anyone who thinks differ
ently than he is not only an opponent of his views but is morally suspect.
His temperament, which inclined him to extremes, led him almost inevitably
out of the Church when he encountered in Montanism a form of Christian
belief in which the utmost rigorism was the law. For the defence of his
conviction of the moment, he had at his command a mastery of contem
porary Latin such as no other writer of those years possessed. In expounding
his own position, he employed an impressive eloquence supported by
comprehensive learning in every field, which he drew upon with brilliant
effect. He had also the gift of that brief incisive turn of phrase which holds
the reader’s interest. His acute intellect relentlessly uncovered the weakness
of an opponent’s argument, and helds up to ridicule those who differed from
him. There can be no doubt that Tertullian’s work was read, but its power
of conviction is open to suspicion. It seems that even Montanism was
not in the end sufficient for his excessive and immoderate nature; and
Augustine credibly reports that before his death he became the founder of
a sect named, after himself, the Tertullianists. 16
In a series of writings Tertullian tried to place before the pagans a true
picture of the Christian religion. After a first attempt in A d nationes, he
found in the Apologeticum a form that suited his ideas. The work is
directly addressed to the praesides of the Roman provinces, but indirectly
to paganism as a whole. Tertullian takes in each case ideas familiar to the
pagans as the starting point of his argument, and contrasts them with
Christian doctrine and Christian life. He effectively makes it clear that
the most grievous injustice is done to the Christians by condemning them
without knowing the truth about them. Tertullian therefore asks not for
acquittal but for justice based on impartial investigation of the truth. In
this way his apologetics advances in content beyond that of the Greeks of
1# De haeres. 86. G. Saflund, De pallio und die stilistische Entwicklung Tertullians

(Lund 1955), would like to consider Tertullian’s De pallio as his last work, and as
giving the defence of that step; but Saflund’s arguments are not convincing.
250
the second century, and at the same time achieves an artistic form superior
to any coming before.
Tertullian also defended the claim of the Church to truth and her
possession of truth against the heresies of the age and especially against
Gnostic trends. This he accomplished in a treatise on principles which
makes brilliant use of his legal knowledge: the De praescriptione haere-
ticorum demonstrates that Christianity, as opposed to heresy, can sub
stantiate a clear legal claim to the possession of truth. Long before heresies
appeared, Christian teachers were preaching that message which they had
received from the apostles and which had been entrusted to the latter by
Christ. Consequently, Holy Scripture is in the possession of the Church
alone; only she can determine its true sense and so establish the content of
belief. A series of monographs was also directed by Tertullian against
individual Gnostics or their particular tenets; such a work was that against
Marcion, mentioned above, which refutes his dualism and defends the
harmony between Old and New Testaments. He seeks to safeguard the
Christian doctrine of Creation, the resurrection of the body and the status
of martyrdom against volatilization by the Gnostics; and against Praxeas
he expounds the Church’s conception of the Trinity with a clarity hitherto
unknown. He deals with practical questions of Christian daily life in his
short works on the meaning and effects of baptism, prayer, theatrical
shows, patience, and the spirit and practice of penance. A rigoristic strain
is often perceptible even here, and it becomes predominant in the works
of the Montanist period. In this latter phase he made demands in utter
contradiction of his earlier views, as for instance when he opposes second
marriages in his De monogamia, military service and all trades in any way
connected with idolatry in the De corona and De idolatria, and proclaims
the most rigorous practice of fasting in De ieiunio. His fight against the
Church took particularly harsh forms; he disputed her right to remit sins,
which he reserved in the De pudicitia to the Montanist prophets alone.
Viewed as a whole, Tertullian’s interests as a writer were not of a
speculative kind, and he gives no systematic exposition of Christian
doctrine. His importance in the history of dogma rests on the value of his
writings as evidence of the stage of development which various particular
doctrines had reached in his time; but it must also be borne in mind that
his adherence to Montanism essentially modified his views. He was speaking
as a Montanist essentially about the nature of the Church when he rejected
an official priesthood and affirmed: ubi tres, ecclesia est, licet laid . 17
A pre-eminent position with the power of binding and loosing belonged
only to Peter, and was not therefore conferred on later bishops. 18 The
17 De exhort, cast. 7; cf. De fuga 14; De pud. 21, 17.

18 De pud. 21, 9-11.
251
conception of original sin as a vitium originis was familiar to him, in the

sense that through Adam’s sin evil concupiscence has poisoned human
nature, but he does not infer the necessity of infant baptism from this . 19
Tertullian thinks in very concrete terms about the Eucharist; those who
take part in the orationes sacrificiorum receive the body of the Lord which
is just as truly the real body of Christ as was the body on the cross; and
the soul is nourished on the body and blood of Christ. 20 In Christology
and the theology of the Trinity, he employs a terminology which influenced
subsequent developments in the Latin West: according to him, Jesus Christ
is true God and true man, both natures are united in one person but not
confused. 21 The expression “Trinitas” as well as the term “persona”, is
found for the first time in Latin literature in Tertullian : 22 in this Trinity,
Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are “unius substantiae et unius status et unius
potestatis ” . 23 The Logos existed already before the creation of the world,
but only became Son at the creation, and consequently as such is not
eternal. 24 The more precise relation of Father and Son is viewed in a
Subordinationist manner: the Father alone has the fullness of the Godhead;
the Son has only a derivative part . 25 The Holy Spirit too is thought of as
a person: he is the real teacher in the Church, who first of all led the
apostles into all truth, but who is also operative as the representative of
God and Christ in every Christian community, 26 especially through Holy
Scripture which is his work and in which his voice is audible. 27
Cyprian
A notable influence on posterity was also exercised by Bishop Cyprian

of Carthage as a writer of the African Church. The authenticity of his
personality and the example of his pastoral care stamped characteristic
features on the Christianity of his native land . 28 The interest taken in his
writings was likewise due to the deep impression produced by these qualities.
In theology he owed much to Tertullian, whom he called his master and
19 De an. 41; De bapt. 18.

20 De or. 19; De cor. 3; De pud. 9, 16; Adv. Marc. 3, 19; De res. earn. 8.
21 Adv. Prax 27; De came Christi 5.
22 Adv. Prax. 3.
28 Ibid. 12.
24 Ibid. 7; Adv. Hermog. 3.
25 Adv. Prax. 9, 13; B. Piault, “Tertullien a-t-il subordinatien?” in RSPhTh (1936),
181-204.
28 De bapt. 6, 12; De praescr. 22, 8-10; 13, 5.
27 Adv. Hermog. 22, 1; De idol. 4, 5.
28 For Cyprian’s influence on Augustine, see J. B. Bord in RHE 18 (1922), 445-68; also
B. de Margerie in Sciences Ecclesiastiques 15 (1963), 199-211.
252
whose works he constantly read . 29 His treatises and letters deal mostly
with the solution of questions of the day, as they arose through persecution
and the threat to ecclesiastical unity from sectarian divisions. A personal
note is struck in the little work Ad Donatum, in which the religious certainty
attained in baptism after long search finds attractive expression. Cyprian
as a pastor turned with a word of consolation to the Christians of North
Africa in time of plague, and summoned them to be ready to make sacrifices
in order to perform works of mercy. This he did in his De mortalitate and
De opere et eleemosynis. He extols the Christian ideal of virginity and
utters warnings against the destructive consequences of dissension in the
De habitu virginum and De zelo et livore and here too he takes up the ideas
of Tertullian in his writings on the Our Father and on patience. His treatise
On the Unity of the Church shows greater independence both in content
and in the personal position it reveals; and it has greater value as evidence
of the concept of the Church held in the mid-third century. The represent
ative and guarantor of ecclesiastical unity is the bishop, who is united
with his fellow bishops through the common basis of the episcopate in the
apostolic office. 30 Among the holders of the latter, Peter had objectively
and legitimately a special position which rested on the power of binding
and loosing imparted to him alone. 31 As this was committed by Christ to
only one apostle, the unity that Christ willed for the Church was established
for ever. 32 Cyprian does not yet infer from this an effective jurisdiction
of Peter over his fellow apostles, nor a transmission of his personal
prerogatives to his successor as Bishop of Rome. Rather does there belong
to the Roman church a position of honour, founded on the fact of Peter’s
work and death in Rome. 33 Cyprian unambiguously rejects a Roman right
of direction, for instance in the question of the validity of baptism for
heretics. The individual bishop is responsible to God alone for the guidance
of his community even in such matters. 34 Cyprian sets a very high value
on membership in the Church of Christ: nobody has a claim to the name
of Christian who has not his own name in this Church; only in her is his
salvation assured, according to the pregnant formula: “salus extra ecclesiam
non est.” 35 Children, too, should share in the membership of the Church
as early as possible, and so infant baptism is a practice which Cyprian
takes for granted . 36 Fidelity to the Church in persecution merits the highest
29 See Jerome, De vir. ill. 53.

30 Ep. 54, 1; 68, 5.
31 De eccl. unit. 4.
32 Ibid. 7.
33 Ep. 71, 3.
34 Sent, cpisc. init., CSEL 3, 1, 435 f.
35 Ep. 73, 21; 55, 24.
38 Ep. 64, 2 and 5.
253
recognition; those who in martyrdom have sealed their testimony to Christ

and his Church with the sacrifice of their lives obtain immediately the
vision of God . 37 In this belief, Bishop Cyprian himself accepted a martyr’s
death in a manner which kept his name in undying remembrance in the
African Church.
C hapter 21
The First Christological and Trinitarian Controversies
T he apologists of the second century in their discussions of pagan poly

theism emphasized above all strict monotheism which they did not consider
imperilled by their conception of Logos-Christology. In the Church’s
defensive action against Gnosticism, the emphatic stress on the unity of
the divine nature was similarly prominent, and so theology in the second
century did not concern itself in great detail with the problem of the
relation between Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. It was obscurely felt that,
in the one indivisible God, certain distinctions were present which were
manifested particularly in the Creation and the Redemption. The apologist
Theophilus had even employed the term “Trias” for this reality , 1 but a
deeper conceptual penetration of this truth of revelation and a correspond
ing linguistic formulation of it had not been attained. Theological reflection
was now, at the end of the second century, to concern itself precisely with
the question of the Trinity. The Logos-Christology presented by the
apologists, and further developed by the second-century writers, was
defective to the extent that it subordinated the Son to the Father. According
to this concept, the Logos, existing from all eternity within God (X6yo<;
evSiaOsTO?), came forth from the Father only as Creator and ruler of the
world (Xoyo<;7tpo<popix6<;), only then was begotten and only then became
the personality distinguishing him from the Father; and, therefore, he was
not eternal in the same sense as the Father. 2 But this Subordinationism at
first less disturbed people’s awareness of the faith, because they saw in it
no direct threat to the divinity of Christ. Emphasis on the difference
between the Father and the Son must, however, have given cause for
hesitation when the unity of God was brought into greater prominence.
In fact this Christological Subordinationism led at the end of the second
century and the beginning of the third to a vigorous reaction by Christian
87 De eccles. unit. 14; Ep. 55, 20.

1 Ad Autol. 2, 15.
2 Already in Justin, Apol. app. 6; Theophil., Ad Autol. 2, 10-22; further in Hippol.,
Refut. 10, 33, 1; Orig., De princ. 1, 3, 5; In Job. 2, 21.
254
CHRISTOLOGICAL AND TRINITARIAN CONTROVERSIES
circles who were anxious at all costs to safeguard the divine unity. The
movement owed its origin to men of the Greek East; but the controversies
about their theories took place chiefly in the West and especially in Rome.
We owe the very name Monarchianism, by which we try to characterize
this theology, to a Latin theologian: the African Tertullian renders by the
formula “monarchiam tenemus” the slogan3 by which its adherents tried
to express their holding fast to the one God and to a single divine principle.
Emphasis on the unity of God, however, necessitated a decision on the
Christological problem, and in this process the Logos-Christology was
contested in two ways. Some regarded Christ as merely a man, but one
born of the virgin Mary and of the Holy Spirit, and in whom God’s power
(Suvoqu?) was operative in quite a special way. This so-called Dynamist
Monarchianism safeguarded the one divine principle but virtually aban
doned the divinity of Christ. Another solution of the problem was proposed
by those who declared that the one God revealed himself in different ways
or modi, now as Father, now as Son. This theory so effaced the distinction
between Father and Son that it was said that the Father had also suffered
on the Cross; and the supporters of this attempted solution are therefore
called Modalist or Patripassian Monarchians. Dynamist Monarchianism,
which is also not inappropriately called Adoptionism, betrays a rationalist
attitude which found the idea of God’s becoming man difficult to accept.
Consequently, it seems to have gained a wider hearing in intellectual circles,
but small support among the common people. The sources name as its first
exponent an educated leather-merchant called Theodotus of Byzantium,
who came to Rome about 190 and there sought support for his theological
ideas. He and his followers tried to prove from Scripture, by means of
philological textual criticism, their fundamental thesis that Jesus, until his
baptism in the Jordan, led the life of a simple but very upright man on
whom the Spirit of Christ then descended. 4 Their interest in logic and
geometry, their esteem for Aristotle and their relations with the doctor
Galen and his philosophical interests gave offence to the faithful. 5
Theodotus’s expulsion from the ecclesiastical community by the Roman
Bishop Victor (186-98) did not mean the end of the Adoptionist movement;
and a series of disciples — including Asclepiodotos, Theodotus the younger,
and later Artemon — transmitted the ideas of its founder. The first two
attempted to organize the Adoptionists in a church of their own, and won
over even the Roman confessor Natalis as its leader, though he shortly
left their movement. 6 Theodotus the younger added a new element to
* Adv. Prax. 3.
4 HippoL, Refut. 7, 35.
5 Euseb. HE 5, 28, 13-14.
6 Ibid. 5, 28, 1-3 and 9.
255
previous theories by designating Melchizedech as the highest power, stand

ing higher than Christ, as the actual mediator between God and man . 7
About the mid-third century a double argument inspired the Adoptionists’
doctrine: on the one hand, they attacked the orthodox view as ditheistic; 8
and on the other, they also claimed that as true guardians of apostolic tradition
they would teach regarding Christ only what had always been believed at
all times. 9 An exponent of a particularly crude Adoptionism in the East,
in the second half of the third century, was Paul of Samosata, a bishop of
Antioch in Syria, whose teaching and life preoccupied several synods. 19
It is true that he employed in his theology the Trinitarian formulas of his
age, but he divested them of their orthodox meaning by teaching that “the
Son” designated only the man Jesus, in whom the wisdom of God had
taken up abode; that, furthermore, “the Spirit” is nothing other than the
grace which God gave the apostles. And by “wisdom of God”, or Logos,
Paul did not understand a person distinct from the Father, but an im
personal power. Although at a first synod in the year 264 he skilfully
evaded being pinned down to definite views, the learned priest Malchion
demonstrated his errors to him at a second assembly of bishops, which
removed him from office and expelled him from the Church’s community.
At the same time, the synod rejected the statement that the Logos is of the
same nature as the Father (ofxoouaiog), because Paul of Samosata meant
by this term to deny the Logos a personal subsistence of his own. The
Catholic community of Antioch, under the new bishop Domnus, was
obliged even to call in the help of the civil authorities against Paul
following his deposition, to make him vacate the episcopal residence.
Yet, even after his condemnation, Paul had a considerable following
in the so-called Paulicians, who were condemned by the nineteenth canon
of the General Council of Nicaea. After his death the leadership of the
group passed to a certain Lucian who later joined the orthodox community.
It is unlikely that the latter is the same man as the martyr, Lucian of Antioch
( t 312), the founder of the school of Antioch, though this Lucian also held a
Subordinationist Logos-Christology.
Modalist Monarchianism
The Modalist attempt at a solution of the Logos-Christological problem

spread relatively widely because it obviously appealed more strongly to
simple religious minds, for whom the biblical statements about the unity
of God and the full divinity of Christ were deep convictions. Any
7 Hippol., Refttt. 7, 36.
8 Novat., De Trin. 30.
9 In Euseb. HE 5, 28, 3 f.
10 Ibid. 7, 27-30.
256
conception which separated the Son or the Word too sharply from the
Father seemed suspect here, because it could lead to the existence of two Gods
being deduced from it. Once again, the first representative of Modalist
teaching whose name is now known was a Greek, by name Noetus, who
according to Hippolytus came from Smyrna in Asia Minor. He vigorously
emphasized the dogma of the one God, the Father, asserted also that Christ
is identical with the Father, and affirmed the inference that the Father
became man and suffered on the Cross. 11 Following two discussions with the
priests of Smyrna, Noetus was expelled from the Church, yet nevertheless
found supporters for his ideas. His disciples appealed to passages in the Old
and New Testaments (such as Exod 3:6;Isa44:6;45:14-15; Jn 10:30; 14:8 fF.;
Rom 9:5), which they construed in the sense of implying an identity of
Father and Son. They countered the difficulty which the Prologue of
St John’s Gospel presented in this respect by allegorical interpretation . 12
Epigonus, a pupil of Noetus, brought the doctrine to Rome, where it was
taken up by Cleomenes. Praxeas, whose character and origin remains obscure,
also perhaps came from the East to Rome, where he was still pursuing
Modalist lines of thought in the time of Pope Victor. According to Tertul-
lian’s polemic against Praxeas, written about 213, the latter taught the
complete identity of Father and Son, and denied that the Logos had any
subsistence peculiar to himself, 13 so that in reality it was the Father who
suffered, died, and rose from the dead. Praexas seems to have modified his
view to the extent that he distinguished the man Jesus from the God Christ,
who was identical with the Father, so that the Father is said to have suffered
together with the Son. 14 Despite their different starting-points, the Dynamist
and Modalist conceptions resemble each other here in a striking way.
Another member of the Patripassianists, as the adherents of this doctrine
were later called by Cyprian , 15 was Sabellius, who is said to have come to
Rome fromLibya when Zephyrinus was bishop (199-217). It was probably he
who gave Modalist doctrine a more systematic character, when he attributed
to the one Godhead three modes of operation, so that the Father was its
actual essence which, nevertheless, expressed itself also as Son and Spirit:
as Father, God was the creator and law-giver; as Son, he was operative in
the redemption; as Spirit, he conferred grace and sanctification. 16 It is
impossible to obtain a completely clear and incontestable picture of Modalist
ideas, since only their opponents — Hippolytus, Tertullian, and Epiphanius —
report them. In Rome, the centre of Modalist propaganda, there was at first
11 Hippol., Contra Noetum, 1.

12 Ibid. 15.
15 Tertull., Adv. Prax. 5 and 7.
14 Ibid. 27.
15 Cyprian, Ep. 73, 4.
18 Epiph., De haeres. 62, 1.
257
no clash with the authorities of the community there. But there was a
reaction by the leading theologian, the learned Hippolytus, who sharply
attacked the Roman bishops Zephyrinus (199-217) and Callistus (217-22),
because of their favouring, as he alleged, and even recognizing this false
doctrine. He accused the former, an “ignorant and uneducated man”, of
maintaining two conflicting theses simultaneously: firstly, “I know only one
God, Christ Jesus and no other, who was born and suffered” ; and, secondly,
“It was not the Father who died, but the Son.” 17 But what is apparent from
these two formulas is rather the concern of the Roman bishop to emphasize
the divinity of Christ on the one hand, and to insist on the distinction
between Father and Son on the other hand, though he lacked an
unobjectionable terminology for his purpose. Hippolytus’s criticism that
Zephyrinus entertained Modalist views was probably provoked by the
mistrust that the latter felt for Hippolytus’s manner of expression, which
sounded to him suspiciously ditheistic. That Hippolytus’s judgment was far
too harsh is plain from his verdict that Callistus had let himself be misled by
Sabellius, though it was Callistus himself who expelled the latter from the
Church. It is clear that Callistus was also trying to pursue a middle course
between the downright Modalism of Sabellius and, in his judgment, the
ditheistic tendency of the learned Hippolytus. In opposition to the latter,
he laid all emphasis on the unity of God, when he said that Father and Son
are not separate beings; in opposition to Sabellius, he held fast to the
distinction between the Father and the Logos, who existed before all time
and who became man. He was conscious, therefore, of the dubiousness of
Modalist doctrine, but he likewise regarded the doctrine of two or three
distinct divine “persons” as an even greater danger to the content of faith
concerning the one God. Yet neither did he, in his search for the right
balance between the two tendencies, have yet the appropriate terminology at
his disposal.
Nevertheless, the struggle of Hippolytus and Tertullian against Modalism
bore fruit, as can be seen from the advance in Trinitarian theology in the
work of Novatian about the mid-third century. The latter turned Tertullian’s
thought and preparatory work to account, and clearly moved away from
Modalism in saying that the Son begotten of the Father, that is the Word,
is not a mere sound but has subsistence proper to him, and thus is a “second
person” ; that the Son was not begotten in view only of Creation, but existed
before all time, .since it is in the nature of the Father as such ever to have a
Son. 18 Novatian seeks with even greater emphasis to reject ditheistic lines
of thought by stressing that the Son is God only in being the Son, who
received his Godhead from the Father, and only as Son is distinct from the
17 Hippol., Rejut. 9,11.

18 Novat., De Trin. 31.
258
Father, so that there is no division of the divine nature. But Novatian does
not express himself so plainly regarding the "person” of the Spirit, whom he
regards as a divine power operative in the prophets, the apostles, and the
Church . 19 According to him, the Son is subject to the Father, is less than the
Father, and is obedient to the Father . 20 Novatian’s manner of expression is,
therefore, strongly Subordinationist; and his progress beyond Tertullian
and earlier theology consists in his recognizing that the personal distinction
between Father and Son does not have its ground in the economy of
salvation, that the Son was begotten before all time, and that he subsisted,
that is as a person, before the creation of the world . 21 This much was
achieved, even if Novatian did not yet clearly grasp the doctrine of an
eternal generation of the Son.
The discussion about Monarchianism extended beyond the West to other
territories where Christianity had penetrated. In Arabia in the time of the
emperor Gordianus (238-44), according to a rather obscure report by
Eusebius, 22 a Bishop Beryllus of Bostra held the view that Christ had not
existed in a way proper to himself before his incarnation, and that he
possessed no divinity of his own but only that of the Father dwelling within
him. This teaching suggests an Adoptionist Christology; and Beryllus’s
doctrine encountered contradiction from his fellow bishops, who devoted
various synods to it and finally summoned Origen to debate the issue. The
latter succeeded in refuting Beryllus and winning him back to the true faith.
Attention was further aroused by the controversy in which Bishop
Dionysius of Alexandria engaged about the year 260 with Patripassianists
of the Libyan Pentapolis. In several letters, 23 of which one was addressed to
bishops Ammonius and Euphranor, Dionysius attacked the Modalist theories
with an incisive yet reckless manner of expression; and he gave such
imprecise formulation to the distinction between Father and Son, whom he
termed a creature (tzoithlol), that the unity of essence of both seemd blurred . 24
A denunciation of this doctrine in Rome caused the bishop there, also
called Dionysius (259-68), to make a pronouncement which in several
respects is important. He requested the Alexandrian bishop to make his
views more precise, and at the same time adressed a letter to the community
of Alexandria expounding the Roman conception of the Trinity. Without
identifying Bishop Dionysius, but with an unmistakably sharp reference to
the school of theologians from which he sprang, he said he had heard that
there were catechists and teachers of theology in Alexandria who split up
19 Ibid. 29.
20 Ibid. 18, 26, 27 and 31.
21 Ibid. 31 and 16.
22 Euseb. HE 6, 33, 1-4.
23 Ibid. 7, 26, 1.
24 According to Athanas., De sent. Dionys. 14-18.
259
the most venerable kerygma of the Church, the monarchy or the unity of
God, into three separate hypostases and three divinities, and taught a
doctrine diametrically opposed to that of Sabellius. Whereas the latter
maintained that the Son was the Father, and vice versa, these men in a certain
way preached three Gods. In contrast with this view, the unity of God
should be held just as firmly as the divine Trinity; yet, on the other hand,
to speak of Christ as a creature, or to assert that there had been a time when
he did not exist, was just as blasphemous as it was to call “his divine and
inexpressible generation” a creation (7uhy)(ji<;).25 Dionysius of Alexandria
thereupon replied with a detailed apologia, 26 in which he admitted that
certain of his formulas were liable to misinterpretation, but pointed out
also that justice had not been done to his view as a whole. He likewise
rejected a separation of Father, Son, and Spirit, but maintained firmly that
they are three “hypostases”, for otherwise the Trinity would be dissolved.
He stressed equally definitely the eternity of the Son. He said he had avoided
the expression ofxoouaioc; (of the same nature) as not biblical, though rightly
understood, it was nevertheless acceptable. 27 His resume of his position, that
the unity of God must be maintained but the three persons must also be
acknowledged, clearly satisfied Rome, since the discussion was not pursued
further. These issues, it is true, involved the problem of correct terminology,
of which the differing senses of “hypostasis” afford a typical example, since
it could be easily identified in Rome with Tertullian’s “substantia”. But
behind these linguistic problems were the different aspects through which
the theology of the Trinity was approached from East and West. In the
West, the “dogma” of God’s unity was sacrosanct, and it was difficult for
people to recognize and acknowledge as “persons” the distinctions in the
Trinity, of which they were convinced. The East was more sensitive to the
mystery in the Trinity, as a consequence of its familiarity with the world of
neo-Platonic thought concerning the hierarchy of being. This difference in
mode of theological thought, together with the imperfection of the
terminology worked out so far, found clear expression in the following
century and gave rise then to a comprehensive discussion of the dogma of
the Trinity.
25 Partly according to Athanas., De deer. Nic. syn. 26.

26 Both Euseb., Praep. evang. 7, 19, and Athanas. De sent. Dionys., quote parts of this
apologia.
27 Athanas., De sent. Dionys. 14-18, tries to represent Dionysius as being orthodox in
every respect. Basil, Ep. 9, 2 (esp. sent. 4), realized with greater penetration that his oppo
sition to Sabellian Modalism made him incline dangerously near to the opposite extreme.
260
C h a pt e r 22
Manichaeism
A few decades after the great Gnostic movement of the second century-
had passed its peak, there was born the founder of a new religion, which
came on the stage with a definite claim to be the most universal of all
religions, and promised true redemption to all nations. It took its name from
its founder, the Persian Mani or Manes, who is called in the Greek and
Latin sources Maviyaio*; or Manichaeus. Until the beginning of the present
century, our knowledge of Manichaeism was mainly dependent on
information from non-Manichaean sources, since a large part of the
abundant Manichaean literature was destroyed as a consequence of the
struggle waged against it by civil authorities and ecclesiastical circles, both
in the Latin West and in the Byzantine East, and later also in lands under
Islamic rule. Since the beginning of the present century, however, a number
of discoveries have brought to light authentic Manichaean sources which
permit a much more exact and comprehensive idea of this religion to be
formed. The first in order of time among these are the texts which were
discovered about 1900 in the caves of Turfan in the Chinese province of
Turkestan and which contain fragments from Mani’s Book of Giants,
liturgical documents, confession formularies, a type of catechism, and
dogmatic texts. But far more important wras the 1930 finding of a
Manichaean library in Medinet Madi in Upper Egypt, which contained
letters and sermons of Mani, the so-called Cephalaea-fragments of a textbook
of Manichaeism and an important large volume of psalms. These texts had
been translated from Syriac into Coptic about the year 400 and they give an
insight into the religious world of a Manichaean group which had created
a powerful centre of propaganda in Upper Egypt about one generation
after Mani’s death. On the basis of these newly-discovered sources, the life
and teaching of the Persian religious founder can now be represented more
or less as follows.
Mani was born on 14 April a .d . 216, probably in the Parthian capital
Seleucia-Ctesiphon, and belonged to a family related on both his father’s
and his mother’s side to the Persian princely house of the Arsacides. 1 Mani’s
father belonged to a religious sect, perhaps the Mandaeans, in which strict
abstinence from meat and wine was combined with purification ceremonies
of many kinds. Mani was at first brought up in this sect, too, but repeated
visions revealed to him very early that he was destined to be the missionary
and herald of a new universal religion, the content of which was made
known to him through further revelations. Mani quickly undertook a
1 G. Widengren, Mani und der Manichdismus (Stuttgart 1961), 30 f.
261
missionary journey to India, where, he preached with particular success in

the province of Baluchistan. After his return home to Persia, he won the
favour of his king, Shapur I (241-73), who permitted him freely to preach
his religious message throughout the Sassanid kingdom. Mani now developed
a comprehensive missionary activity, was himself engaged as a missionary
in the West, as far as Nisibis, and sent out on a systematic plan other
messengers of his faith, who, even during his lifetime, gained entry for his
teaching into Egypt and the eastern provinces of Iran. Under King Bahram I,
however, a radical change occurred affecting Mani’s favour at court. It is
probable that the priests of the Zoroastrian religion accused him of subversive
plans and heresy; and, after a short imprisonment, Mani died in captivity
in 277. His followers described his manner of death as crucifixion, but by the
term was meant only his martyr’s death for his beliefs. Upon Mani’s death
there ensued a powerful wave of persecution against his adherents, some
of whom fled to the West, while others emigrated to India and China,
where they secured great influence which persisted as late as the fourteenth
century . 2
Mani set down the content of his missionary teaching in a series of
writings which soon attained canonical force. The most important of these
are: The Great Gospel from Alpha to Tau, which was provided with an
album of pictures; the Treasure of Life, from which Augustine frequently
quoted; the Book of the Mysteries, in twenty-four chapters; and finally his
letters discovered in Upper Egypt. 3 According to these works, a radical
dualism in the doctrine concerning God characterizes Manichaeism: there
are two highest beings or principles of equal rank, the one of light and the
other of darkness. Both are unbegotten and eternal; both possess equal
power but stand in irreconcilable opposition to one another, each in a realm
of his own: the region of light or the good, which lies in the North, and the
region of evil, which lies in the South. 4 Each realm has a king: the realm of
light is ruled by the Father of greatness; the realm of evil by the Prince of
darkness who commands numerous demons. Between the two primary
principles and their realms a conflict breaks out: the realm of matter seeks to
swallow up the light; and, to defend the latter, the Father of greatness
creates the first man, who with his five sons goes out to battle, but is
conquered by evil. The first man becomes aware of his fate, and begs the
Father of greatness for help. The latter emits from himself, after a series of
intermediary emanations, the Living Spirit, who frees the first human being
from evil matter and so redeems him . 5
2 Ibid. 47; 127-9; 132-5.

3 For a description of this Manichaean literature, cf. ibid. 79-96.
4 See No. 5 in A. Adam, Texte zum Manichaismus (Berlin 1954).
5 Adam, op. cit. No. 7.
262
MANICHAEISM
This mythical occurrence is a symbol and image of the way of redemption

for man, who is a mixture of light and darkness. As soon as a man becomes
aware of this fact, that is to say knows himself, his redemption begins. And
thereafter the Father of light helps him to free himself more and more
from the darkness in him. For this purpose he sends the heralds of true
religion to earth, who give men correct knowledge about themselves. These
messengers are Buddha, Zoroaster, Jesus, and Mani. They are representatives
of the Manichaean redeemer, the emissary of light, and each of them brings
to a part of mankind the true religion or gnosis, whose spread, however, is
impeded from the opposite side. Before Mani, the heralds of religion had
been assigned only certain parts of the world to which they were to bring
true gnosis: Buddha worked in India, Zoroaster restricted himself to Persia,
and Jesus to Judaea, or at least to the West. Neither did these three establish
their message in writing; and consequently the religions they founded,
especially the Christian religion, quickly fell to pieces or were falsified.
Against such a background, Mani’s mission stands out more sharply in its
uniqueness: he is the last envoy of light, the apostle of the ultimate
generation, the “seal of the prophet” ; 6 his message is the last summons to
salvation; the world can now only be converted or for ever perish. Mani
preached the highest, the perfect, gnosis; to reject it, is definitively to refuse
salvation. The movement founded by Mani is, therefore, also the most
universal religion ever known, comprising all earlier religions in itself, and
at the same time leading beyond them. It will conquer the East and the
West, and will be heard preached in all languages. 7
From this Manichaean doctrinal system Manichaean ethics necessarily
follow, the fundamental characteristic being the demand for abstinence
from everything which links men to matter. In man light and darkness
mingle; anyone who forgets this condition, or who does not repent, adheres
more to matter, persists in ayvcocrfa, determined not to recognize his situation,
and so rejects gnosis and thereby salvation. Consequently, the perfect
Manichee renounces this world, seeks to possess nothing in it and subdues
all his appetites; he binds himself by the triple seal of the mouth, the hands,
and the womb; that is to say, he refrains from impure words and pleasures,
and rejects menial work, for by these things the world of light, fragments
of which are present in all visible, tangible things, is violated; he exercises
absolute sexual continence and rejects marriage. In practice these lofty
demands of Manichean ethics could not be fulfilled, a condition which led
to the division of Manichaean believers into the elect, or electi, and the
hearers, or audientes; 8 and there were special commandments for each
• Ibid. No lb.
7 Adam, op. cit. Nos. 3 and 17.
8 Ibid. No. 16.
263
according to their capacities. The hearers or catechumens served the elect,

gave them food and clothing, and so hoped to be born sometime in the body
of an elect and then to attain salvation.
In addition to being divided into such categories as these, the followers
of the Manichaean religion were united in a well-organized church , 9 and
this factor ensured them considerable impact in their missionary work.
At the summit of the Manichaean church was a supreme head, the head
of the apostles or the king of the religion, who had his residence in Babylon.
The first head was naturally Mani himself, from whom every successor
derived his authority. Subject to this supreme head was a hierarchy with
numerous members comprising, in a series of grades, twelve apostles,
seventy-two bishops or teachers of truth, and three hundred and sixty
priests to whom all other members of the elect, both men and women, were
attached as deacons. The great mass of hearers represented the last and
lowest grade. The elect, particularly in China, were assembled in monastic
communities, which were supported by the alms of the hearers. The ascetic
exercises of Manichaeism included an elaborate practice of fasting. By
fasting they prepared for a sort of confession, 10 in which they acknowl
edged transgressions of the commandments of abstinence. In their temples
the Manichaean faithful gathered for a pure divine service of the word,
which consisted of readings from Manichaean writings and the singing of
their own hymns, 11 often possessed of high qualities of form. Other rites
were rejected, since in them the body, which is bound to matter, is active,
and only true gnosis brings salvation.
O f special importance is the marked dependence of Manichaean doctrine
on Christian ideas. The high rank that is attributed to the person of Jesus
is particularly striking. It is true that Mani lists the heralds of true gnosis,
who had preceded Mani himself, as Buddha, Zoroaster, and Jesus and
likewise his brethren; but the chief role is ascribed to Jesus. At the beginning
of his letters, Mani emphatically calls himself “apostle of Jesus Christ” . 12
This Jesus, as a heavenly “aeon”, had appeared on earth with the semblance
of a body, in order to teach mankind its real origin and true way of
redemption. According to Arius, the Manichees called Christ “a part of
the Father having the same nature as he” ; 13 and this use of the homoousios
idea made the Arians their determined opponents. Thus, Jesus has become
the guide of souls, whom the Manichees praised in many of their hymns.
These sound in places so like purely Christian prayers, that the ear of a
simple Christian could scarcely detect the Manichaean undertone when,
9 See Widengren, op. cit. 97-100.

11 For examples of such hymns, ibid. Nos. 24-30.
12 Adam, op. cit. Nos. 10 and 12.
13 Letter of Arius to Bishop Alexander in Epiphanius, Panar. 69, 7-8.
264
MANICHAEISM
for instance, he heard: “Come to me, living Christ! Come to me, O light
of the day! O merciful one, O comforter, I cry to you so that you may
turn to me in the hour of tribulation. Your sweet yoke I have taken upon
me in purity. Honour and victory be to our Lord, the comforter and to his
holy elect and to the soul of the blessed Mary.” 14 Finally, this Jesus has
sent the Paraclete promised by him, in order to free his teaching from
falsification. The Paraclete came down upon Mani, and revealed hidden
mysteries to him; and Mani became one with him, so that Mani could
now come forward and teach as the promised Paraclete:15 from Mani and
through him there speaks the Spirit sent by Jesus. Neither does Mani pass
over and ignore the Holy Scripture of Christianity.16 It is true that he
adopts a critical attitude to the Old Testament, because, in striking
similarity to Marcion, he did not recognize the God of the Old Testament
as the God of light; nevertheless, angels of light laid down some isolated
truths even in the Bible of the Jews. But more important for Mani are the
Gospels and Paul’s letters: these also he considers as interspersed with
Jewish errors, but they contain a rich store from Jesus’ message regarding
the profound structure of the world, the meaning of human destiny, the
battle between light and darkness, and the liberation of the soul from
the fetters of matter. Mani recognized these truths in the New Testament
writings, singled them out and absorbed them into his preaching. Mani-
chaeism showed particular interest also in New Testament apocrypha, such
as the Gospel of Thomas and the legend of Abgar, and made use likewise
of a version of the Shepherd of Hermas. This considerable adaptation of
Christian elements in Manichean preaching was intended by Mani to
facilitate contact with Christians in the West, and to win them over to
his movement, just as he made similar use of the ideas of Zoroastrianism
or Buddhism for his missionary work in the East. By taking over these
various elements, Manichaean doctrine was intended to show that it was
the fulfilment of all the religious aspirations of mankind.
The syncretic character of the new religion certainly ensured those initial
successes which were everywhere apparent. The doctrines which Mani’s
zealous missionaries had to proclaim did not sound alien and did not come
from a distant and unknown world. The fundamental ideal of a safe way
to liberation from the evil in the world and of redemption through true
gnosis was familiar to men of the third and fourth centuries. The Mani
chaean religion quickly spread in Mesopotamia, pressed on from there to
Syria and Arabia, and soon found a particularly firm base in Egypt which
was developed into a propaganda centre for the Mediterranean countries.
14 Psalm 247 ed. by C. R. Allberry, A Manichaean Psalmbook, part II (Stuttgart 1938), 55 f.

15 Adam, op. cit. No. lb.
16 See Widengren, op. cit. 125-7.
2 65
It clearly had marked success in Rome and North Africa, for the extremely
severe edict which the emperor Diocletian issued in 297 to the proconsul
of Africa, against this “pernicious innovation”, 17 was based on the official
complaints of the Roman authorities of that area. Death at the stake was
ordered for leaders of the movement; their followers were to be beheaded,
and Roman citizens of rank among them were to be punished by forced
labour in the mines. Such measures, however, could not prevent the spread
of Manichaeism. It can be shown to have existed in Rome under Pope
Miltiades (311-14); from there it probably found its way to Gaul and
Spain, also appearing in the Balkans.
The emperor Constantine was likewise disturbed by the doctrines of
the movement, and had special reports drawn up on the subject.18 Synods
of the fourth century had to deal with Manichaeism repeatedly. A law of
the emperor Valentinian I in the year 372 ordered the confiscation of
houses in which the Manichees held their assemblies.19 Theodosius II
intensified the sanctions against them, and Justinian I reintroduced the
death penalty for the profession of Manichaeism.20 In North Africa Mani
chaeism exercised a peculiar fascination, to which the young Augustine
succumbed for ten years, as did both with him and after him many members
of the African upper classes. Augustine’s fight against his earlier coreligion
ists introduces us to a number of Manichaean bishops, and reveals their
extensive ecclesiastical organization which is confirmed by archaeological
finds in North Africa. After the Vandal invasion, persecution affected them
just as harshly as it did the Catholics; the formulas of abjuration for former
Manichees on reception into the Church testify to their continued existence
in the West extending into the sixth century. The Byzantine church in the
East had to fight against them much longer, and the neo-Manichaean
movements of the Middle Ages, especially in the Balkans, once again
strikingly manifest the vitality of Mani’s foundation.
Since Mani did not allow his followers to belong to another religion,
the position of the Church in relation to Manichaeism was different from
her defensive struggle against the Gnosticism of the second century. The
penetration by individual Manichees into Christian communities, and the
destruction of these from within, was less to be feared than direct apostasy
or the conversion to the Manichaean religion, for which its missionaries
openly strove. Its claim to sole possession of true and unfalsified Chris
tianity, forced the Church authorities to take up a definite attitude and
17 Adam, op. cit. No. 56. On the question of authenticity, see W. Seston in Melanges
A. Ernout (Paris 1940), 345-54.
18 See Ammianus Marcell. 15,13,1-2.
20 See E. H. Kaden, “Die Edikte gegen die Manichaer von Diokletian bis Justinian”
in Festschrift H. Lewald (Basle 1953), 55-68.
266
MANICHAEISM
to put the faithful on their guard. Moreover, the Church could not but
experience the Manichaean movement as a dangerous rival in her own
missionary endeavour among the pagan population; thus a Christian
defence was initiated relatively early. In a letter to his community21 about
the year 300 a bishop of Alexandria, perhaps Theonas, issued a warning
against Manichaean doctrines of marriage and against their elect. Like
Cyril of Jerusalem, Afrahat and Ephraem in the East, and like Leo the
Great later in the West, other unnamed bishops must have combated the
movement by their preaching. The Church enjoined particular vigilance
when a Manichee wished to become a Catholic; and an attempt was made
to ensure the genuineness of such a conversion by precisely-worded formulas
of abjuration. Just as Augustine himself signed such a formulary,22 so also
it was imposed on others. He himself decreed that trust should be placed
in the Manichee Victorinus only when he had given the names of all the
Manichees known to him ;23 and Cyril of Jerusalem showed similar circum
spection.24 Very detailed formulas of abjuration, which had often to be
signed even on the mere suspicion of Manichaeism, were in use both in the
Latin West and in the Greek East.25
H and in hand with these pastoral efforts to immunize the faithful against
this heresy, there developed the theological defence carried on by writers.
This was waged not only as occasion arose in theological studies, but also
in special monographs, of which some have been lost.26 The success which
the Manichaean mission very early enjoyed in Egypt especially roused
Egyptian authors to counter-measures. Even if Alexander of Lycopolis and
his anti-Manichaean polemical treatise cannot be considered as Christian,27
the work of Bishop Serapion of Thmuis represents an achievement against
the Manichees which won special approval from Jerome,28 and deserved
it. In many of his writings, Didymus of Alexandria attacked this work,
and wrote in addition a short treatise Kara Mavtyawov.29 The four books of
the Arabian bishop, Titus of Bostra,30 against the Manichees have been812
81 Pap. Rylands 469, which is Adam, op. cit. No. 35; Cyril of Jerusalem, Catech. 6,
32, 34 and 36; Afrahat in Adam, op. cit.
82 See Adam, op. cit. No. 61.
29 Ep. 236. The so-called commonitorium Augustini also warns against allowing former
Manichees too readily to be baptized, CSEL 25, 979 f.
24 Catech. 6, 36.
25 Adam, op. cit. Nos. 62—4.
26 See editions listed in Bibliography, p. 491, 2. Indirect Sources.
27 See O. Bardenhewer, Gesch. der altkirchlichen Literatur, III (Freiburg i. Br., 2nd ed.
1923) , 102 f.
28 De vir. ill. 99; on this, see Quasten P, III, 82 f.
28 PG 39, 1085-110.
80 PG 18, 1069-264; Syriac text ed. P. de Lagarde (Berlin 1859; reprinted Hanover
1924) .
267
preserved, as have the Acta Archelae of a certain Hegemonios who came

presumably from Syria. Written in the form of a debate, these severely
attacked Mani, the founder of the religion, and are a rich source for the
early history of Manichaeism.31 The anti-Manichaean works of Eusebius
of Emesa, George of Laodicea, and Diodorus of Tarsus do not survive.
In the Latin West, anti-Manichaean writers were less numerous; but, on
the other hand, the West produced in Augustine the theologian who over
came the threat to the Church through years of reflection and argument,
and in so doing made profitable use of Manichaean modes of thought,
transposing suggestions derived from them into Christian terms.32 From
the evidence of his dialogue with Manichaeism, it is quite clear that the
followers of the latter in Africa did not constitute a mass movement but
were mainly recruited from intellectual circles. The Church’s defensive
struggle derived much benefit from the persecution of Manichaeism by the
State. With Diocletian this persecution was still partly motivated by anti-
Persian feeling; but, when the empire had itself become Christian, it
represented a defence against heresy by means of the civil authority. So
the Manichaean religion won its greatest successes in the Asiatic East;
while, in the Mediterranean area proper, from the fourth century onwards,
despite its obstinate persistence in individual cases, it never again became
a danger to the Church as a whole in the way earlier Gnosticism had been.
C h a p t e r 23
Further Development of the Liturgy
T hegrowth of theological literature within the Church of the third century

was accompanied by an equally important development in the liturgical
domain. Here, too, new creative impulses are perceptible, from which the
forms of divine worship grew, and which answered the needs of the com
munities of the great Church as they increased in strength.
Easter and the Easter Controversy
In the first place the feast of Easter was given an elaboration which made
it in the minds of the faithful the central and pre-eminent celebration and
memorial of Christian redemption. Two factors are especially responsible812
81 Ed. C. H. Beeson (Leipzig 1906); cf. Quasten P, III, 357 f.

82 See especially Adam in ZKG 69 (1958), 6-23.
268
FURTHER DEVELOPMENT OF THE LITURGY
for this development: first of all the unfolding of the previous Easter
festival itself, by increasing the duration of preparation and celebration;
and, secondly, the bringing of the administration of the sacrament of
Christian initiation into the Easter liturgy. The beginnings of this double
movement extend back probably into the second century, since they are
already apparent in an advanced stage early in the third. The sources
which show this development most clearly, such as the Syrian Didascalia,
some writings of Tertullian and the Apostolic Tradition of Hippolytus,
belong in all instances to the third century. The homilies on the Psalms by
Asterius the Sophist were in fact written in the early fourth century, but
often reflect a state of liturgical development which can be ascribed to* the
late third century.
Despite differences of emphasis in detail, considerable similarity of view
concerning the root idea of the celebration of the Easter festival can be
assumed in both the East and West. It commemorated the fundamental
truths and facts of Christian redemption, which were conferred upon
mankind by the death and triumphant resurrection of the Lord.1 In second-
century Asia Minor and a few neighbouring regions, a Christian Passover
was kept which naturally placed the thought of the Lord’s passion in the
foreground, but also included the idea that this passion leads to the
resurrection. In accordance with Jewish custom, 14 Nisan was kept as the
date for this Passover, by the Quartodecimans of Asia Minor and perhaps
generally at first; it was prepared for by a strict fast and included a homily
on Exodus 12 (as did the Jewish Passover). It was not exclusively a day
of mourning nevertheless, and had a joyous conclusion with the agape and
celebration of the Eucharist early on 15 Nisan. The Sunday Passover, the
celebration of Easter on the Sunday following 14 Nisan, such as was known
for instance in Syria, Egypt, Pontus, and the Latin West, likewise in no
way excluded the thought of the Lord’s passion from the fundamental idea
of the feast. This thought was in fact incorporated into it by explicit
commemoration, linked in this case also with a strict fast, because the
recollection of the passion was the necessary condition for significant
celebration of the triumphal resurrection of the Lord. The Easter vigil
brought this Easter fast to an end, and constituted the bridge to Easter joy
in the redemption perfected by the resurrection.
The so-called Easter controversy at the end of the second century is
therefore misconstrued, if its basis is thought to have been a dispute over
Easter festivals with fundamentally different content between the Quarto
decimans2 and the supporters of the Sunday pasch. It was rather a dispute
1 Of fundamental importance: O. Casel, “Art und Sinn der altesten christlichen Oster-
feier” in JLW 14 (1938), 1-78.
2 So, for example, B. Lohse, Das Passafest der Quartadecimaner (Giitersloh 1953), who
does not go into the views of O. Casel.
269
about the date of the same Easter festival, and about the nature and
duration of the same Easter fast. It led initially to no agreement, for both
groups thought they could appeal to apostolic tradition in support of their
own view.3 It is no longer possible to determine when and by whom this
Sunday Passover was introduced in Rome, but it must have become
established there early in the second century, for Irenaeus plainly assumes
the festival to have existed in the time of the Roman Bishop Xystus.4 And
the practice referred to by him is unlikely to have been a special creation
in Rome itself, for such a supposition finds no support in the sources.
Furthermore, the common elements shared by the Sunday celebration of
the *Easter festivities and the Passover feast of the Quartodecimans are
very clear: the introductory strict fast; the reading of Exodus 12 with a
homily appended; and, incorporated into a vigil celebration, a concluding
eucharistic supper. These are best understood if we take the Sunday Easter
celebration as a further development of the original Quartodeciman custom,
but one which made the Sunday after 14 Nisan the culmination of the
festival. This was done in order to emphasize more strongly the contrast
with Judaism, and at the same time to bring more vividly into consciousness
faith in the resurrection of the Lord as the crown of his work of redemption.
The remaining differences in the manner of keeping the feast, whether
according to the Sunday Easter rite or the Quartodeciman practice, were
certainly felt and also disputed, as Irenaeus reports with reference to Bishop
Polycarp of Smyrna and Anicetus of Rome;5 but they did not at first
burden the relations of the communities to one another in such a way as
to endanger peace within the Church. That the differences in practice
easily caused controversy is proved by the debate between Melito of Sardes
and Bishop Claudius Apollinaris of Hierapolis about the year 170 in Asia
Minor: a debate in which Clement of Alexandria also intervened. The
latter based his argument on the Johannine chronology so as to criticize,
in a work of his own, the custom of the Quartodecimans, and emphasized
that Jesus, the true Paschal lamb, died and was buried on one day, the day
of preparation of the Passover. In his reply, Melito justified the Quarto
deciman practice by the dating of the Synoptics, according to which Jesus8
8 Euseb. HE 5, 23, 1; 5, 24, 6.

4 Ibid. 5, 24, 14, and on this see B. Lohse, op. cit. 117. The interpretation of the
passage in Irenaeus suggested by M. Richard seems untenable. Irenaeus definitely
restricts the subject of the dicussion to the date of the already existing feastday, and the
duration and nature of the fast usual before it; there was no question at issue
whether the festival should be celebrated or not. According to M. Richard, a specifically
Roman dispute about the date of Easter is to be postulated, within the Roman
community under Soter’s predecessors, in which the actual introduction of the Easter
feast was controverted.
5 Euseb. HE 5, 24, 16.
270
had celebrated the Passover before his death; and he asserted that this was
what should still be maintained.6
A few years before the turn of the century, the dispute over the date of
the Easter celebration assumed graver forms. The immediate occasion is
most probably found in Rome, where the priest Blastus sought to introduce
the Quartodeciman custom, and managed to secure support among the
Christian immigrants from Asia Minor.78About 195 the Roman Bishop
Victor wished to establish a uniform regulation for the Church as a whole,
and caused synods to be held everywhere for this purpose. Later Eusebius
still possessed the results of the deliberations of some of these synods, which
took place in Palestine, Pontus, and Osrhoene; and he also knew the
corresponding resolutions of a Roman synod, as well as the decisions of the
churches of Gaul and of some individual bishops.8 The majority expressed
itself in favour of the Sunday practice; but determined contradiction came
from the stronghold of the Quartodecimans, the province of Asia, for whose
communities Bishop Polycrates of Ephesus made himself the spokesman. In
accordance with a Roman request, he had likewise summoned the bishops of
the province to a synod. This assembly came to the conclusion that the
traditional practice was to be retained, as in Asia it was founded upon
apostolic tradition.9 The decision of the majority of all the synods moved
Pope Victor to more severe action against the churches of Asia Minor, which
he “attempted”, as Eusebius emphasizes,10 to exclude from the ecclesiastical
community. But his action did not meet with general approval; and Irenaeus
of Lyons resolutely advocated a course of tolerant treatment towards the
followers of the divergent practice, which was evidently adopted.11 The
bishops of Palestine, too, strove for a uniform manner of celebrating Easter
in accordance with the majority decision. The Quartodeciman minority
remained faithful to their previous practice throughout the whole of the
third century, and the Novatians in Asia Minor followed them in this.12
The first canon of the Synod of Arles in 314 imposed the Sunday Easter,
and the Council of Nicaea expelled the Quartodecimans from the ecclesiastical
6 Fragments of Apollinaris from the Chronicon paschale: PG 5, 1297. The title of

Clement’s work, Kav<hv £xxXrjaia<mx&<; r) 7rp6q ’IouSatôvra*; seems to indicate that
in other places the Quartadeciman practice was felt to be a Jewish custom; cf.
A. v. Harnack, Dogmengeschichte, I (Tubingen, 5th ed. 1931), 314.
7 On Blastos, see, as well as Eusebius HE 5,15, Ps.-Tertullian, Adv. haer. 8.
8 Euseb. HE 5, 23, 3-4.
9 Ibid. 5, 24, 1-8.
10 Ibid 5, 24, 9.
11 Ibid. 5, 24, 15-17. It seems impossible to limit Victor’s action to the group of
Quartodecimans at Rome; Eusebius’ account is too plain. Victor would scarcely have
summoned the synods outside Rome for such a limited purpose.
12 Socrates HE 5, 21.
271
community.13 Thereafter, their numbers continually declined, though even

into the fifth century the great Church had to deal with them on occasion.14
According to the most important sources for the third century, the pattern
of the Easter celebration itself was also largely uniform in East and West.
It was introduced by a strictly obligatory fast, which was viewed as an
integral part of the Easter festival. The length of the fast was different
from place to place, and could last for one, two, or even more days, as
Irenaeus already attests.15 It was kept most strictly in the East, where from
the Monday of the appropriate week onwards, only bread, salt and water
were taken, and on Friday and Saturday all food was dispensed w ith.16
Fasting on these last two days was also demanded by the Traditio apostolica,
but could be restricted to the Saturday in special cases.17 Tertullian
emphasizes that this fast gave special character to the days on which the
Church was deprived of the Bridegroom.18 Consequently, it was felt to be
inseparably linked with the festival which had the whole occurrence of
redemption as its content, the passage of the Lord and his community from
death to life and from sorrow to joy.
The heart of the Easter celebration was the nocturnal vigil, for which all
the Christians of a community assembled, so that it was not a family rite
like the Jewish Passover, but essentially a social rite for all members of a
congregation. Participation in it was a strict duty, so that Tertullian was
afraid that the pagan husband of a Christian wife might have hesitation in
allowing her to go to such a nocturnal festival.19 The community assembled
first of all for a service of prayer and readings, which occupied the first
hours of the night; psalms, readings from the prophets and the Gospel are
specially mentioned.20 According to the Didascalia, the vigil belonged
essentially to Easter day and consequently had a joyful conclusion;21 and
this aspect came increasingly to the fore with the further elaboration of the
vigil celebration, such as must have occurred at the beginning of the third
century. The solemn baptism must particularly be mentioned here, since
about this time it was incorporated as a new element into the framework
of the Easter liturgy. Tertullian had already regarded Easter, on account of
15 For Arles: Acta et symbola conciliorum, quae saec. IV habita sunt (Leyden 1954),
23; For Nicaea: Eusebius, Vita Constantini 3, 18.
14 B. Lohse, op. cit. 128 ff.
15 In Euseb. HE 5, 24, 12.
18 Didasc. apost. 5, 18: see ed. by Funk, Didascalia et Constitutiones apostolorum I (Pader-
born 1905), 288.
17 Trad, apost. 29: see ed. by Botte in SourcesChr 11 (1946), 64.
18 Tertullian, De ieiun. 12-13
10 A d uxor. 2, 4.
20 Didasc. apost. 5, 19 (290 Funk); according to Asterius Soph. {Horn. 8 and 9, and 28)
psalms 5 and 15 in particular were used.
21 Didasc. apost. 5, 20 (300 Funk).
272
its festive character, as being a particularly suitable date for baptism,

without actually indicating the vigil in particular. But if Easter were really,
as he says, the “dies baptismo solemnior”, the liturgical location of the
administration of baptism on this day could scarcely be sought outside the
vigil celebration.22 Although Hippolytus’s Church Order does not formally
name Easter day as a date for baptism, its statements concerning the
immediate preparations for baptism make sense only if they refer to the
last days of what was later to become Holy Week. The observation that
people “must keep watch all night and have readings and instructions given
to them (that is, to those to be baptized)” clearly points to the baptismal
rite as part of the Easter vigil.23 Asterius in the early fourth century speaks
so much as a matter of course of the baptismal liturgy as an integral part of
the festival of Easter night that the introduction of this liturgical custom
must be ascribed to the third century according to him also.24 In one of his
homilies there is a hymn of praise to Easter night, which may rightly be
described as a prefiguration of corresponding parts of the later Latin
Exsultet. It gives authentic expression to the high place which the liturgy of
the Easter vigil already occupied in the religious devotion of the early
Christian Church:25 “O night, brighter than day! O night, more radiant
than the sun! O night, whiter than snow! O night, more dazzling than
lightning! O night, more shining than torches! O night, more precious than
Paradise! O night, freed from darkness! O night, filled with light! O night,
which banishes sleep! O night, which teaches us to watch with the angels!
O night, terror of the demons! O night, longing of the year! O night, which
brings the Bridegroom to the Church! O night, mother of the newly
baptized!” The crown and conclusion of the vigil was formed by the
eucharistic celebration of Easter Sunday, which in all probability was very
early distinguished in the East by the Trishagion.26
The third century also produced the first outline of a paschal season
which then became the nucleus and the first ritual cycle, of the developing
ecclesiastical year. For fifty days after Easter the faithful commemorated
22 De bapt. 19: “diem baptismo solemniorem Pascha praestat.” Hippolytus, too. In Dan.
comm. 16, gives Easter as a date for baptisms.
23 Trad, apost. 20 (48 ff. Botte).
24 Asterius, Horn 11, which also makes the ritual use of light in the liturgy of baptism
quite probable.
25 Ibid. Horn. 11, 4, and on this see H. J. Auf der Maur, “Der Osterlobpreis Asterios’
des Sophisten” in LJ 12 (1962), 72-85.
20 Once again Asterius provides the earliest certain evidence in Horn. 16, 15; he says that
on this night the newly baptized would sing for the first time the 6(xvo? tcov 7ticttcov. As
Gregory of Nyssa also views the Trishagion in connexion with the solemn baptism,
it was probably first used in the Easter liturgy. Gregory exhorts a catechumen to
receive baptism so that he can sing it with the faithful (De bapt. PG 46, 461).
273
with joyful hearts the resurrection of the Lord and their own salvation which
this bestowed; the joyful character of this pentecost was emphasized by
refraining from fasting and from kneeling at prayer.27 The development of
a definite octave of Easter is perhaps to be assigned to the end of the third
century or the beginning of the fourth, since Asterius takes it for granted as a
well-established custom. Several of his extant homilies were pronounced
on various days of Easter week to the newly-baptized, and consequently
represent the earliest known example of mystagogic catechetics. He also
accepts the Sunday after Easter as the conclusion of the octave.28
The final day of Pentecost at first had no festive character. A single
reference indicates that in Spain, about the year 300, no uniform practice
was followed regarding the final date of Eastertide: one group of Christians
kept the fortieth day after Easter, while others kept the fiftieth. The Synod
of Elvira disapproved of the former of these customs, and expressly declared
that the fiftieth day after Easter was to be celebrated as the feast which
ended the Easter cycle.29 Since the feast of the Epiphany cannot be shown
with certainty to have existed in the universal Church before the fourth
century, its possible pre-Constantinian roots in Egypt must be discussed later.
The basis for the development of a third-century Christian calendar
of feasts can be observed in the commemoration of the martyrs, which was
already customary in the Church at that time. This practice sprang from
the general honour paid to the dead which was also shown by the Christians
to their own departed. On their private initiative, Christians often had the
eucharistic oblation made for their dead at the grave-site on the anniversary
of death, and customarily remembered them in their prayers. Tertullian
repeatedly attests this custom at the beginning of the third century.30 That
such commemoration was emphatically held in honour of the Christian
martyrs can easily be understood from the deep veneration which was very
early shown them by the faithful. In the East a commemoration for the
martyrs, as can be seen from the account of the martyrdom of St Polycarp
of Smyrna, which in its concluding report speaks of the celebration on his
“birthday”, that is, the anniversary of his death.31 In the West, such a
development is perceptible from the sources only much later.' The
commemoration of a martyr, officially celebrated by the Church, is found in
Rome in the first half of the third century: the Depositio martyrum, the
27 Cf. Tertullian, De cor. 3; De ieiun. 14: “. . . quinquaginta exinde dies in omni

exsultatione decurrimus.” The custom of standing up to pray during Pentecost was
sanctioned by the Council of Nicaea, canon 20.
28 Asterius, in the headings to Homilies 8, 11, 30, 31; cf. Homily 21 as a whole.
29 Synod. Illib., can. 43.
30 Tertullian, De cor. 3; De exhort, cast. 11; De monog. 10.
31 Martyr, polyc. 18; but see on this H. v. Campenhausen, Bearbeitungen und lnter-
polationen des Polykarpmartyriums (Heidelberg 1957), 3.
274
Roman calendar, names the Roman Bishop Callistus (f 222) as the earliest
example of a martyr honoured in this way, perhaps because it was only then
that the Roman community acquired its own cemeteries, and so obtained by
this legal right the possibility of organizing a commemorative ceremony.32
For North Africa, Cyprian testifies to a cult of the martyrs, regulated by
the Church, in which the confessores were also included. He ordered that
the days of their deaths also should be carefully noted, so that the eucharistic
sacrifice might be ofFered33 on those days, too, as well as on those of the
martyrs. The giving of special prominence to the grave of a martyr by the
architectural elaboration of his tomb probably occurred in places even in
the third century, but only the Memoria apostolorum on the Appian Way
outside Rome can be said with certainty to be a construction in that period,
of a kind which was later generally called martyrion.34 There are reasons
for thinking that the pre-Constantinian memorial under the Confessio in
St Peter’s which must be identified with the Tropaion on the Vatican Hill
mentioned by the Roman presbyter Gaius, should also be mentioned here.35
At all events, the organization of a cult of the martyrs as a whole becomes in
the third century a matter for ecclesiastical authority, that is, of the bishop
of the community, whose influence on the development of liturgical worship
is here particularly evident.
Catechumenate and Baptism
With the introduction of the catechumenate under ecclesiastical direction, as

an institutional preparation for the reception of baptism, the growing
Church at the end of the second century and beginning of the third
accomplished one of its most important achievements and one very rich
in consequences. Several causes were decisive in the Church’s gradual
construction of a carefully planned and organized course of instruction,
containing provision for moral and religious training of those seeking
baptism. The first impulse must have come from the considerable missionary
success of the Church which developed towards the end of the second
century. Such progress must have suggested the idea of an intensive
probation of the pagan neophytes, if the previous level in the Christian
communities was to be maintained. The urgent need for better instruction
in the faith and deeper knowledge of it, was also increased by the8234
82 Depos. mart., 14 Oct., ed. H. Lietzmann, Die drei altesten Martyrologien (Bonn, 2nd ed.
1911) 4; cf. A. Stuiber, “Heidnische und christliche Gedachtniskalender” in JbAC 3 (1960),
especially 30 ff.
83 Cyprian, Ep. 12, 2; 39, 3. On the whole question, see Delehaye OC 24-49.
84 See, in particular, F. W. Deichmann in Jdl 72 (1957), 44-110 and, in general,
A. Grabar, Martyrium (Paris 1946).
35 See above, pages 115 ff.
275
threatening growth of propaganda from heretical groups, especially from

the powerful Gnostic movement which penetrated even into the communities
of the great Church. Finally, a systematic introduction on firm principles
into the world of the Christian sacraments of initiation was found desirable,
in view of the rival mystery cults, whose influence on pagan religious
inquirers is not to be minimized.
In the development of the ecclesiastical institution of the catechumenate,
certain earlier forms must be taken into account, which at first lay
principally in the domain of private initiative. In particular, the first
instruction in the faith must generally have been given on a private basis,
but it was placed at a later stage under ecclesiastical supervision or made
to depend on ecclesiastical authorization. Often an individual Christian
was the first teacher of a pagan who had become acquainted with the new
faith, and whose subsequent community membership was in question. Later
it was the educated convert who came forward on his own initiative as a
private teacher of the Christian religion, as the activity of Justin and of
the earlier Alexandrian teachers shows; and who could then be taken into
service by the Church.86 These forms of private preparation of candidates
for baptism were gradually incorporated by the Church, until by the
beginning of the third century the organized institution was in existence,
as it is found in the Church Order of Hippolytus. Concurrently, the
development in North Africa was just reaching completion, as Tertullian
testifies. These sources indicate the following general picture of the
catechumenate in its standard form.
The admission of catechumens to instruction was controlled by the
Church, who submitted the candidate for baptism to a strict examination,
especially of his moral qualities. For this reason she first of all required that
the candidate should name a Christian acquaintance as guarantor, who
could vouch for the seriousness of his intention in conversion.37 One may
generally consider this guarantor to have been an apostolically active
Christian, to whom the candidate for baptism owed his acquaintance with
the Christian religion, and who now introduced him to the leader of the
Christian community. There was as yet no special name for these witnesses
in the catechumenate; they were not identical with a godfather in the later
sense, since they undertook to guarantee only the worthiness of the
candidate, and assumed no responsibility for his future manner of life. The
acceptance into the catechumenate depended, moreover, on an examination
of the candidate by the teacher of the catechumens, who might be a cleric or
layman,38 and whose inquiry extended to the motives of the candidate’s
88 See above, pages 229 ff., and Justin, Apol. 61,1.
87 Trad, apost. 16 (44 Botte).
88 Ibid. 16 and 19. According to Origen, Contra Cels. 3, 51, it was still the
Christians as a whole who had the duty of examining the candidates for baptism.
276
request, his marital status, profession, and social position.39 In the case of
the slave of a Christian master, the latter’s agreement and testimonial were
required; and if this was unfavourable, the candidate was rejected. A
number of professions were forbidden to the Christian of the third century,
and therefore a candidate for the catechumenate might have to abandon
his previous trade. Those occupations in particular were incompatible with
his future status as a Christian which stood in a direct or highly potential
connexion with pagan worship, such as those of a sacrificial priest, temple
guard, actor,40 astrologer, or magician, to which the Synod of Elvira added
that of a charioteer in the circus41. Service in the army or in the civil
administration gave rise also to hesitation. Tertullian could not believe that
soldiers or officials could avoid every situation in which participation in
pagan sacrifice and worship would be required of them, or in which they
would come into contact with the service of the temples, or have to employ
violence or weapons against others.42 Anyone who joined the army after
being accepted into the catechumenate was, according to Hippolytus’s
Church Order, immediately to be excluded from further instruction. The
Christian attitude to sexual offences in the candidate for baptism was quite
uncompromising: every prostitute was to be rejected and, if need be, the
marital situation was to be regularized before admission to instruction. It
is clear that, in the investigation of all these questions, decisive weight was
attributed to the testimony of the guarantor. The precision of all these
regulations shows the mentality of a Church conscious of her responsibility,
who took her moral ideal seriously and courageously laid down clear
conditions for those who wanted to become her members.
A favourable outcome of this initial inquiry opened the way to the
catechumenate, into which the candidate was then received by a special rite,
the marking with the sign of the cross; and thus became a Christianus or
catechumenus.43 A detailed set of rules regulated the life and activity of the
catechumens.44 They were placed under the doctor audientium for three
years, though this period could be shortened in particularly zealous
individual cases.45 Their time was now occupied with special instruction,
introducing them to the world of Christian belief, and with practical
training in Christian spiritual life. The teaching was based on Holy
89 For what follows, cf. Trad, apost. 16 as a whole (43-46 Botte).

40 Cyprian, Ep. 2 also includes a man who instructs actors; the original connexion with
the worship of the gods was still vividly felt.
41 Canon 62. 42 De idol. 17.
43 Cf. F. J. Dolger, Sphragis (Paderborn 1911), 177; Tertullian, De idol. 1 and De cor. 2.
In North Africa the catechumens were also known as audientes or auditores, as opposed
to the fideles, the baptized: Cyprian, Ep. 29.
44 In Hippolytus, Trad, apost. 17-20 (46-49 Botte); B. Capelle has attempted a recon
struction of the Latin translation in RThAM 5 (1933), 136-9.
45 Trad, apost. 17; the Synod of Elvira (canon 42) lays down two years.
277
Scripture, with which attendance at the service of the Word and the homily
also made them more familiar. Every lesson ended with a prayer and
imposition of hands by the catechist.40 The three-year period of the
catechumenate was concluded by yet another examination of the candidate
for baptism extending over his moral and religious performance during
that time. The examination took place a few weeks before Easter, the
principal date for baptism, and was conducted probably by the bishop.
Once again a guarantor was required to appear for the candidate;47 and the
latter’s performance was measured by "good works”, among which
visiting the sick and respect for the widows were expressly included.48 An
eminent form of excellence in a catechumen was arrest for Christ’s sake;
and if thereby death was suffered without baptism, the catechumen was
nevertheless saved, because he had been "baptized in his own blood”. 49
A satisfactory outcome of the second inquiry led to the second and final
stage of the catechumenate, which served directly to prepare the candidates,
now called electi, for the reception of baptism soon to ensue. This stage
was characterized by a greater use of liturgical prayers of purification or
exorcisms, intended to heal and liberate more completely from Satanic
power.50 The bishop as leader of the community came even more promi
nently into the foreground. As the day of baptism approached, he tested
once more by an exorcism the purity of the candidates and excluded the
energumens. He prayed with them on the Saturday before baptism, laid
his hands on them, and blessed their senses with the sign of the cross.51
Perhaps the beginning of this second stage of the catechumenate was also
the special time for the first renunciation of Satan, of which Tertullian
speaks.52 He also mentions that the weeks of final preparation included
more intense practices of penance and frequent prayer and fasting,53 which
emphasized the importance of the event which was to come. A baptismal
fast was imposed on the candidates on the Friday and Saturday preceding
the Sunday when baptism was to be conferred.54 In addition to this
preparation of a liturgical kind, Hippolytus also mentions as a special task
of the electi that "they are to hear the Gospel”. 55 This comment probably
means that they were now strictly obliged, and no longer merely authorized,
to be present at the service of the Word at the celebration of the Eucharist,
and there to hear readings from the Gospels and the homily.56
48 Trad, apost. 18 and 19. 47 Cf. E. Dick in ZKTh 63 (1939), 25-27.

48 Trad, apost. 20, 1.
40 Ibid. 19, 2; Tertullian, De bapt. 12 and 14; Cyprian, Ep. 57, 4; 73, 21 and 23.
50 Cf. A. Stenzel, Die Taufe, eine genetische Erklarung der Taufliturgie (Innsbruck
1958), 62 and 72.
61 Trad, apost. 20, 3, 5 (48 f. Botte).
52 De cor. 3. 53 De bapt. 20. 54 Trad, apost. 20, 5. 55 Ibid. 20, 2.
58 Cf. A. Stenzel. op. cit. 64 ff.
2 78
The act of baptism was enclosed in the impressive framework of a night

long vigil, which time was occupied with readings and final liturgical
instructions. It was chiefly during the Easter vigil that the greatest number
of candidates were baptized; otherwise it was during a Saturday to Sunday
night that the ceremony took place, if a special reason required a different
date for baptism. The break of day, signalized by the crowing of a cock,
brought the beginning of the baptismal action proper.57 The candidates had
set aside their clothes and all ornaments, and advanced to a font with a
flow of clear water. The bishop had first of all consecrated the oils to be
used at the baptism: the oil of thanksgiving and the oil of exorcism, which
were each held ready by a deacon on the left and right of the priest. The
sequence of candidates was prescribed as follows: children were baptized
first,58 with their parents or perhaps a member of their family giving the
answers to the priest’s questions for them; the men came next and then the
women. The priest required each candidate individually to say the words of
baptismal renunciation, turning to the West as he did so: “I renounce you,
Satan and all your pomp and all your works” 59 Then followed the anointing
with the oil of exorcism, together with the formula: “Every evil spirit go
forth from you.” Thereupon the candidate went to the priest by the font,
and a deacon accompanied him into the water. The officiating bishop or
priest laid his hands on him, and asked in sequence three questions regarding
his belief:60 “Do you believe in God the Father almighty? Do you believe in
Jesus Christ, the Son of God who was born by the Holy Spirit of the virgin
Mary, who was crucified under Pontius Pilate, died, and was buried, who
rose alive from the dead on the third day, ascended into heaven, sitteth at
the right hand of the Father, who will come again to judge the living and
the dead? Do you believe in the Holy Spirit, Holy Church, and the
resurrection of the flesh?” To each question the candidate answered “ I
believe” ; and as he did so the officiant poured water over his head.6162A
priest then anointed him with the oil of thanksgiving: “I anoint you with
the oil in the name of Jesus Christ” ; the baptized person now put his clothes
on again, and after the end of the baptisms all went from the baptistery
into the church. There a new rite was carried out with each of the baptized
individually, the consignation2 performed by the bishop. The latter placed
57 Trad, apost. 21, 1 (49 Botte).

58 Infant baptism prevailed everywhere from the end of the second century, though
hesitation was expressed on occasion, cf. K. Aland, Die Sduglingstaufe im Neuen
Testament und in der alten Kirche (Munich 1961).
59 Trad, apost. 21, 6 (50 Botte).
60 Ibid. 21, 8-12.
61 For North Africa, cf. Tertullian, De cor. 3; Adv. Prax. 26. For the accompanying
anointing, De bapt. 7, 1.
62 Trad, apost. 22 (52 f. Botte).
279
his hand on the baptized person, and said a prayer as he did so, imploring
the grace of God for the newly-baptized that he might serve God according
to his will. Then he anointed the head of each with oil, made the sign
of the cross on their brows, and gave each a kiss with the words: “The Lord
be with you” ; whereupon the confirmed person answered: “And with thy
spirit.” Then the newly-baptized joined the congregation of the faithful and
celebrated the Eucharist with them for the first time.
The foregoing account of the catechumenate and the baptismal liturgy are
derived from the Church Order, or Liturgy, of Hippolytus, a document
which is by far the most advanced ritually and, one might say, rubricistically,
in the period. Since this is now considered to have been an ideal liturgical
plan, originating in the East and suitable for adoption by any community,
it can no longer be viewed with complete confidence as the typical baptismal
liturgy of the Roman church.63 The only informative material on the subject
apart from this source and in any way comparable to it, concerns the North
African church. Tertullian’s occasional, but nevertheless valuable obser
vations about the baptismal liturgy and practice of his country show points
both of agreement and difference with those described above. The agreement
is found mostly in factual details: chiefly in the existence of the
catechumenate, the form of administration of baptism, and the way baptismal
symbolism was employed. The differences consist less in the absence of
particular features than in a different kind of assessment of the significance
of preparation for, and administration of this sacrament. There seems to
be no second stage in Tertullian’s version of the catechumenate; the days of
immediate preparation before the date of baptism are not described in detail;
the special work De haptismo gives not a single text of the prayers used in
the administration of baptism: all of these elements being necessarily
related to a stage of organization of the ritual which had not yet been
reached in North Africa. On the other hand, in the catechumenate of North
Africa, the moral and ascetical training of the candidates had clearly greater
weight than their introduction to a knowledge of the faith; the demand
made on their moral quality was very high. The rejection of failures or
dubious candidates was inexorable. The “juridical” evaluation of the act of
baptism was especially marked; the latter appears as the “sacramentum
militiae” or “sacramentum fidei”, as the “pactio fidei” and “sponsio salutis”;
a binding pact is concluded with the Church, which enrols the baptized in
the “militia Christi.” 34
Broadly speaking, at the beginning of the third century the early Christian68
68 Cf. J. M. Hanssens, La liturgie d’Hippolyte (Rome 1959).

84 Cf. Tertullian, De cor. 11; De spect. 24; Ad mart. 3; De bapt. 6; De pud. 9. On
the whole question cf. F. J. Dolger, “Sacramentum militiae” in AuC, II (1930), 268-80.
Fundamentally the pactio is also present for Hippolytus in the baptismal renunciation.
280
Church as a whole had laid down the essential pattern regulating baptism
which remained in force for the two centuries that followed. That pattern
was still capable of completion, and underwent considerable modifications
when peace came, but these only emphasized the quality of the foundations.
The Celebration of the Eucharist
In order to be able to survey more clearly and better estimate the

development reached in the eucharistic liturgy by the end of the third
century, it is well to start with the description given by Justin Martyr
about the year 150. He first sketches the course of the ritual linked to
baptism, then speaks of the common ceremony to which all came “on the
day named after the sun” . 65 From this double description, it can be seen that
the service of readings which opened the liturgy had kept its place on
Sundays: “The memoirs of the apostles or the writings of the prophets are
read aloud” ; the reading is followed by the homily of the man presiding;
and then come the prayers in common “for ourselves, for the newly-
baptized and for all others wherever they may be”. The reference to prayer
for the newly-baptized permits the supposition that it was possible to insert
prayers at this point for some special purpose, their formulation being left
to the leader. The service of prayers and readings was terminated by the
kiss of peace.66 The second part of the ceremony stands out in clear contrast:
it began with the bringing in of the sacrificial gifts though it is not said who
brought the bread and the chalice with wine and water to the president.
The essential element of this part is the prayer of the man presiding, which
is called euxaPlCTTâ? an<^ which he sends up praise and honour to the
Father of all things through the name of the Son and the Holy Spirit, and
gives thanks that the faithful had been given those gifts. The whole
congregation taking part confirmed and ratified the euyapicma of the
president with the Hebrew word “Amen”. The consecrated eucharistic gifts
were then given by the deacons to all present, to be consumed, and portions
were also taken to those who were absent. Justin emphasizes that only the
baptized could receive this food, which was itself called Eucharist.67
Two features stand out in an especially clear manner in this eucharistic
liturgy: first of all, there was its social character, drawing all the participating
faithful into the actual liturgical action; they ratify expressly the thanksgiving
uttered by the leader, and also share as a whole in the eucharistic meal.
Moreover, the eucharistic great prayer is primarily one of thanksgiving.
Justin insists on this idea in other contexts too, as other writers of the second
65 Apol. 65 and 67.

66 Only mentioned in c. 65.
67 Ibid. c. 66.
281
and third centuries do after him,68 so that the word “eucharistia” could now
become a technical term for the Christian celebration of Mass.69 The absence
of explicit mention in Justin’s Apology of the idea of sacrifice in the
eucharistic liturgy may be due to the fact that he does not quote a complete
text of the prayer. The concept was by no means unknown to him,70 and
euxapicmoc could certainly include for him the idea of sacrifice.71 Irenaeus
speaks more clearly on this point, emphasizing especially that the gifts of
bread and wine, which by God’s word have become Christ’s flesh and blood,
represent the pure sacrifice of the New Covenant.72
The elaboration which the eucharistic liturgy underwent between the
period of the Apologists and the first half of the third century is again most
clearly revealed by Hippolytus’s Church Order, which also records a double
description of the celebration of Mass, explaining firstly how it is carried out
in connexion with the consecration of a bishop, and secondly how the
Christian community celebrates Mass with its newly-baptized members.73
The chief value of this source lies in the formulary of the eucharistic great
prayer, of which a text is provided in full. The first of these two Mass
liturgies starts with the introduction of the sacrificial offering carried by the
deacons; the bishop, with the presbyters, stretches out his hands over the
offering as he begins the great prayer of thanksgiving; the latter is introduced
by a prayer of versicle and response between him and the whole congregation,
just as it is found to the present day in the liturgy of the Roman Mass. The
thanksgiving of the great prayer is addressed to the Father “through his
beloved Son Jesus Christ”, whom he has sent as saviour and redeemer. Christ
is the Father’s Word through which he created all things; he took flesh in the
womb of the Virgin and was born of the Holy Spirit and of her; he took
suffering freely upon himself to break the power of death and of Satan, and
made known his resurrection. The congregation is following his example and
command at the Last Supper (here the words of Christ are quoted), when it
is mindful of his death and resurrection, offers to the Father the bread and
the chalice, and gives thanks to him for considering them worthy to stand
in his service. The bishop also prays that the Father may send down his
Holy Spirit on the sacrificial offering of Holy Church, so that they may
strengthen their faith in truth, “so that we may praise and glorify thee
through thy Son Jesus Christ, through whom is glory and honour to thee,
68 Justin, Dial. 41, I; Irenaeus, Adv. haer. 4, 17, 5; Origen, Contra Cels. 8, 57.
69 Cf. T. Schermann in Philologus 69 (1910), 375-410.
70 Dial. 41, 2; 117, 2 and 3.
71 Cf. T. Schermann, loc. cit. 385 ff. On the sacrificial character of the Eucharist before
Justin’s time, see J. A. Jungmann, The Mass of the Roman Rite, I, 25 ff. (New York 1951).
72 Adv. haer. 4, 18,1; 3, 18, 1 and 19, 3.
75 Trad, apost. 4 and 23 (30-33 and 53-56 Botte).
282
the Father and the Son with the Holy Spirit, in thy Holy Church, now and
for ever.” The Amen of the whole congregation here, too, ratifies the bishop’s
prayer.74
Just as Hippolytus’s liturgy of the Mass was intended as a guide, which
the leader of a community could keep to a greater or less extent, so too the
eucharistic great prayer, in particular, was not intended as an obligatory
text for all churches and all purposes, but as a model formulary, the structure
and fundamental ideas of which could be retained, but which might be
varied and developed in detail.75 The bishop could therefore still on occasion
freely create and shape the text, so that various types of eucharistic prayers
of thanksgiving were possible for the celebration of Mass in the third
century; and they can still be traced in the formularies which have been
preserved in more recent liturgies. It is not possible to decide whether the
Trishagion was already present in some of them. Hippolytus does not
mention it; and the way in which Tertullian, and before him Clement of
Rome, speak of the liturgy does not require the assumption that the
Trishagion was always used in the Mass at that time.76 But the “form of
Mass” presented by Hippolytus can be regarded as a basic outline of the
eucharistic liturgy as it was generally celebrated in the Church in those days:
it is a liturgy still quite clear in structure and without much detailed
elaboration. But when Pope Anicetus could invite Bishop Polycarp of
Smyrna, during the latter’s visit to Rome about the year 154, to celebrate the
liturgy in the Roman community, and when in the Syrian Didascalia, about
a hundred years later, it is said that an episcopal guest should be given the
honour of “offering the sacrifice”, 77 such evidence presupposes in different
geographical regions a regulation of the ritual of the Mass which was
uniform at least in its main features.
Occasional observations by other writers confirm and complete this picture
of the eucharistic liturgy drawn by Hippolytus. Tertullian’s writings in
particular show on many points the identity or similarity of the African
Mass liturgy with it.78 In Tertullian’s record also bread and wine were the
gifts which the faithful provided for the sacrifice.79 The eucharistic great
prayer was addressed to the Father “per Christum Jesum” ;80 but Tertullian
74 Ibid. 4 (33 Botte).

75 Hippolytus says quite plainly, Trad, apost. 10 (41 Botte), that the texts he provides
were not to be learnt by heart by the bishop: “Each must pray according to his capa
cities.”
78 Cf. W. C. van Unnik, “1 Clement and the ‘Sanctus’” in VigChr 5 (1951), 204-48.
77 Euseb. HE 5, 24; Didasc. apost. 2, 58, 3 (168 Funk).
78 See on this E. Dekkers, Tertullianus en de geschiedenis der liturgie (Brussels-Amster-
dam 1947), 49-67.
79 De monog. 10; De exhort, cast. 11; and even clearer Cyprian, De op. et eleem. 15.
80 Adv. Marc. 4, 9. *'
283
does not expressly quote from it, though many echoes can be detected in his
style and thought. He explicitly stresses that Christ, with the words “Hoc
est corpus meum”, makes the bread his body;81 but he does not clarify the
position of the Our Father and the place of the kiss of peace in the Mass
liturgy. His remarks about the communion ritual are more informative:82
the Eucharist was received under both kinds, as in Hippolytus’s rite;83 but
while the latter cites the formulas with which the species were distributed by
the bishop or priests to the faithful, that is “panis caelestis in Christo Jesu”,
“In Deo patri omnipotenti”, and “Et Domino Jesu Christo et spiritu sancto
et sancta ecclesia”, with a confirmatory “Amen” from the communicant,
Tertullian mentions only the Amen, which certainly presupposes that there
was some preceding formula.84 He demanded reverent care in handling the
consecrated bread and wine; the faithful could take the former home, in
order to receive the Eucharist privately when they were prevented from
attending divine worship.85 Tertullian also implies the existence of a
formula for dismissing the congregation when he speaks of the people being
sent away at the end of the eucharistic ceremony.86 He does not name
Sunday as the day preferred for celebrating the Eucharist, but he does
mention Wednesday and Friday as days of the Stations, together with
Mass.87 That Mass was also celebrated at the funeral and on the anniversary
of the death of one of the faithful has already been made clear. Since the
second century, the time for Mass had been in the early morning before
sunrise, as Tertullian clearly testifies.88 Therefore, it was not linked, or was
no longer linked, with the agape, which persisted as an independent meal.
The first beginnings of the so-called “discipline of the secret” can also be
traced in the third century. This is a modern term for the early Christian
custom of keeping secret from the uninitiated the most important actions
and texts of liturgical worship, especially baptism, the Eucharist, the Our
Father, and the creed, or of referring to them in the presence of unauthorized
persons in veiled terms only. In particular, the nature and form of liturgical
initiation were to be kept secret, and “discovered” solely through the
initiation itself. As this attitude took shape slowly, its beginnings cannot be
discerned with complete clarity. It is scarcely possible to refer to Tertullian
for elucidation since his occasional relevant remarks are obscure, and he
moreover speaks ironically of the passion for secrets in the pagan mystery
81 Ibid. 4, 40.
82 Cf. E. Dekkers, op. cit. 59 ff.
83 Tertullian, De resurrect, cam. 8; Trad, apost. 23 (54 Botte).
84 De Sped. 25.
85 De cor. 3; De orat. 19; Ad uxor. 2, 5.
86 De an. 9, 4, and cf. F. J. Dolger in AuC, V (1940), 108-17.
87 De orat. 19.
88 De cor. 3; De orat. 19; De fuga 14; cf. also Didasc. apost. 2, 60, 2 (172 Funk).
2 84
cults, in a manner which would hardly have been possible if the North
African Christians had observed a similar custom in his time.89 But the
attitude is apparent in Hippolytus’s Church Order, according to which an
unbeliever was not to be instructed about baptism and the Eucharist before
he had been baptized or admitted to communion.90 The use of the language
of the mysteries was also probably in conformity with a growing discipline
of the secret.91 Similary, in Origen, formulas are found which may be
interpreted as echoes of this thinking when he refrains from disclosing
details to his hearers concerning the Eucharist, or when he tells the future
candidate for baptism that he would later “be initiated into the exalted
mysteries already known to those for whom such knowledge is
appropriate”. 92 Since most of this evidence comes from the East, the place
of origin of the discipline of the secret is perhaps thus indicated. It attained
its real force only in the fourth and early fifth centuries; consequently, its
deeper motives and relation to the pagan mysteries will be discussed in
greater detail later.
The Beginnings of Christian Art
A Christianity which had increased in numbers and self-awareness was

provided for the first time in the third century with the possibility of
engaging in artistic activity inspired by a Christian spirit, for only the longer
periods of peace coming at that time afforded the special conditions required.
Christian art was, however, initially opposed by a trend of considerable
strength within the Church itself that stood in irreconcilable opposition to
artistic activity as such.93 The Old Testament prohibition of images (in Exod
20:4) was influential in this respect. Origen, for example, refers to it in
saying that the Christians abominated temples, altars and images.94 The
pure spirituality of the Christian God was also felt by Minucius Felix to be
an obstacle that obstructed worshipping Him in a special building.95 The
close connexion between the art of antiquity and pagan worship was in the
forefront of Tertullian’s mind when he radically rejected Christian activity
in this domain. The devil alone, he says, had sent sculptors and painters
89 The references usually given are to Apol. 7, 6; Ad ux. 2, 5; Adv. Val. 1. On this
see E. Dekkers, op. cit. 80-82.
90 Trad, apost. 23 (56 Botte), with variants. This is so although Hippolytus himself speaks
in detail of baptism and the Eucharist.
91 Cf. Protr. 12, 118-20; Paed. 1, 5, 26.
92 Origen, In Lev. horn. 9, 10; In Iesu Nave hom. 4, 1: “ s i . . . initiatus fueris venerandis
illis magnificisque sacramentis, quae norunt illi, quos nosse fas est.”
93 Cf. H. Koch, Die altchristliche Bilderfrage nach den literarischen Quellen (Gottingen
1917); W. Elliger, Die Stellung der alten Christen zu den Bildern (Leipzig 1930).
91 Contra Cels. 7, 64.
93 Octavius 32.
285
into the world.96 Even at the beginning of the fourth century the synod of
Elvira decreed for the territories of the Spanish bishops that: “Images are
forbidden in Church; what is honoured and worshipped must not be
represented on the walls.5’97 This hostile tendency to art and images could
not, however, prevail over the positive trend which succeeded in making an
important advance in the third century. Tertullian knew Christians who
possessed drinking vessels bearing the image of the Good Shepherd.98
Clement of Alexandria, for all his reserve regarding a representation of God,
nevertheless suggested to the Christians of his day some symbols which
their signet rings might bear, as the dove, fish, ship, anchor, and fisherman.99
Giving due regard to such a favourable attitude towards art in the private
domain, it was nevertheless the needs of liturgical worship in the stronger
communities of the Church as a whole which finally obtained for art an
official recognition by ecclesiastical authority. Another contributory factor
was the inclination of the Christians, surrounded by a widespread pagan
cult of the dead, to express in artistic form on the tombs of their dead what
ever their faith proclaimed to them concerning death and resurrection.
First of all, the desire must have developed among the Christians for a
place of worship of their own where the worthy celebration of the
eucharistic liturgy would be possible, when the size of the congregations
made this increasingly difficult in private houses. The written evidence for
the existence of specifically Christian places of worship appears at the
beginning of the third century.100 About 205 a flood in Edessa in the East of
Syria destroyed, among other things, “the temple of the Christians”. 101
Hippolytus reports in his commentary on Daniel that the enemies of the
Christians forced their way “into the house of God”, just when the faithful
had gathered there for prayer.102 About the same time, Tertullian spoke of
the “house of our dove”, in a context which most probably indicates that the
Christian place of worship in Carthage was referred to .103 For the second
half of the third century, evidence is available of Christian “churches” in
Palestine104 and Sicily.105 About the end of the third century and the
beginning of the fourth, the Christian churches had become very numerous.
98 De idol. 3.
97 Synod. Illib., can. 36.
98 De pud. 7, 10.
99 Paed. 3, 59, 2, and cf. L. Eizenhofer in JbAC 3 (1960), 51-69.
100 Cf. J. R. Laurin, “Le lieu du culte chr^tien d’apres les documents litteraires primitifs”
in AnGr 70 (1954), 39-57, and W. Rordorf in ZNW 55 (1964), 110-28.
101 Chronicum Edessenum in CSCO 4, 3.
102 In Dan. comm. 1, 20.
103 Adv. Val. 3, and cf. F. J. Dolger in AuC, II (1930), 41-56. See also Tertullian, De
fuga 3; De idol. 7.
104 Euseb. HE 7, 15, 1-5.
105 Porphyry, Fragment 76.
286
Eusebius indicates that the earlier places where the Christians had
worshipped, prior to Diocletian, were everywhere replaced by more
spacious buildings108. Christian places of worship were destroyed in
Bithynia, Galatia and Pontus, Thracia, Africa, Spain, and Gaul, as a result
of the Diocletian decree of persecution107. In contrast to these abundant and
plain statements of the written sources, archaeological findings have not
until now been rich. It has of course been thought, that the remains of older
Roman houses found during excavations under some of the most ancient
titular churches of Rome, such as San Clemente, St Pudenziana, St Martino
ai Monti and others, are the remnants of the pre-Constantinian domus
ecclesiae in each case;108 but definite proof of the liturgical character of these
earlier buildings has not been discovered.109 An undoubted example of a pre-
Constantinian Christian church has, however, been brought to light by
excavations in Dura-Europos, a Roman frontier garrison on the west bank
of the Euphrates, built about 232. The Christian character of this private
house, adapted for use in divine worship, is clearly demonstrated by the
frescoes of a room which was perhaps used as a baptistery: they depict the
Good Shepherd among tombs, the healing of the man born lame, and Christ
walking on the w ater.110
New possibilities of Christian artistic activity presented themselves when
the Church in the first half of the third century came into possession of her
own burial-grounds,111 which were at first called cemeteries. In Rome from
the ninth century onwards these were called the catacombs; this appellation
deriving from the name of the field in or ad catacumbas, at the cemetery of
St Sebastian on the Appian Way. The cemeterium Callisti must be considered
the earliest purely Christian underground burial-place; it stood on land
which Bishop Zephyrinus (199-217) donated to the Roman Church from
his private estate, and the administration of which he entrusted to the deacon
Callistus. The wall and ceiling surfaces in the grave-chambers of the
catacombs were furnished with pictures. The painters were naturally
dependent in form on contemporary secular art, but their choice of themes
was mostly determined by Holy Scripture or other Christian sources. Among
the earliest subjects were, for instance, Daniel between two lions in the den,
Noah in the Ark, Jonah swallowed by the fish and cast out again, or the
108 HE 8, 1, 5.
107 See J. R. Laurin, “ Le lieu du culte chretien, d’apres les documents litt^raires primitifs”
in Studi sulla chiesa antica (Rome 1954), 55 f.
108 Cf. J. P. Kirsch in the Italian edition of Fliche-Martin, III, 537 ff.
109 Cf. A. M. Schneider, “Die altesten Denkmaler der romischen Kirche” in Festschrift
der Akad. der Wiss. Gottingen, II (Gottingen 1951), 195-7.
110 See illustrations 42-51 in Hopkins - Baur, Christian Church at Dura-Europos (New
Haven 1934).
111 Cf. F. de Visscher, “Le regime juridique des plus anciens cimetieres chr^tiens & Rome”
in AnBoll 69 (1951), 39-54.
28 7
New Testament scene of the resurrection of Lazarus.112 They must all be

understood as references to the biblical accounts of the saving of a man
from deadly peril, and consequently aim at proclaiming the Christian hope
of entering into an eternal life, safe from all peril and threat from the
powers of evil. Proceeding from the same current of ideas is the figure of
the Good Shepherd, which is found in the early catacomb paintings and in
epitaphs.113 In this instance Christ is seen as the saviour who, as shepherd,
brings life and, as teacher, brings true knowledge of God. Christ appears
also as a teacher in the early Christian carvings on sarcophagi.114 The image
of Christ in pre-Constantinian times was enriched by a representation in
mosaics in a mausoleum under St Peter’s in Rome. These show the Christ-
Helios journeying from Hades to the Father.115 And so the third century had
already in various ways laid the foundations of the flourishing art of the
Christian empire in the following century.
C h a p t e r 24
Spiritual Life and Morality in the Communities of the Third Century
I f the sources are studied for the essential concepts and convictions which
characterized the piety of the third century, two ideas and realities stand
out, namely baptism and martyrdom. All writers of the period, who discuss
in any detail Christian perfection and its actual realization, speak so
insistently of baptism as the well-spring, and of readiness for martyrdom
as the touchstone of the genuineness of a Christian way of life, that devotion
to baptism and to martyrdom must be generally considered to be the
fundamental twofold attitude to religious life in the early Christian Church.
Baptismal Spirituality
The first attempts of any magnitude to develop a theory of Christian

perfection were undertaken by the early teachers of Alexandria. Clement
of Alexandria tried to trace such a theory in the portrait of the Christian
Gnostic which he sketched in the Paedagogus and the Stromata. There is no
mistaking, in his account, the fundamental importance, theoretical and
112 Cf. J. Kollwitz, Das Christusbild des 3. Jahrhunderts (Munster 1953), 7.

113 Ibid. 11, with illustrations 2-4.
114 F. Gerke, Christus in der spatantiken Plastik (Berlin 1940), 7-14.
115 O. Pcrler, Die Mosaiken der Juliergruft im Vatikan (Fribourg 1953).
288
SPIRITUAL LIFE IN THE THIRD-CENTURY COMMUNITIES
practical, which baptism held for perfection.1 Using the terminology of the
pagan mystery-cults, but in no way abandoning his conviction of the reality
of the Christian sacrament of baptism, he describes its profoundly
transforming effects: it brings complete forgiveness of sins, and liberates
from the dark power of the demons.2 In its positive aspect, it is a rebirth to
new life in the kingdom of the Father, and so grants immortality; and, by
the infusion of the Holy Spirit into the soul, gives also true knowledge of
God, or gnosis.3 Essentially, this gnosis is imparted to every baptized person,
not merely to pneumatikoi, or spiritually endowed persons; and by it the
grace-given root of all perfection is in principle implanted; this must grow
throughout life.4 For, even if the gnosis received in baptism cannot increase
in its essential nature, it can nevertheless grow in extent within the baptized
person; and above all it must stand the test in the struggle with evil.5 In
baptism there is a real, not merely a symbolic, repetition for the Christian
of what baptism in the Jordan once effected for Christ. Consequently, the
life which springs from baptismal grace is an imitation of Christ, with whom
the believer is indissolubly united at his baptism.6
What is expressed by Clement quite plainly, but with some reserve and
a certain formulary concision, is developed by Origen in rich abundance.
This is particularly evident in his homilies, in an ardent metaphorical style
with insistent kerygmatic appeal. It was in this way that Origen became
the most zealous preacher of a deep-felt baptismal spirituality for the early
Christian Church generally. He lays the foundation first of all in a
theology of baptism, which bases all exhortations to live in accordance
with baptismal grace on the supernatural sacramental event which occurs
at baptism. He prefers to explain that event by reference to those principal
Old Testament prefigurations of baptism which were to play such an
important part in the mystagogical preaching of the fourth century.7 He
regards the whole path of the person seeking baptism from his first wish
for instruction in the Christian faith through his acceptance into the
catechumenate and his introduction to the law of God, to the day when
in the midst of the priests he is initiated into the mysteries of baptism as
prefigured in the exodus of Israel from Egypt, the passage of the Red Sea,
the stages of the wandering in the desert and the crossing of the Jordan,
1 W. Volker, Der wahre Gnostiker nach Clemens Alexandrinus (Berlin 1952), 147-53.
2 Paed. 1, 26, 2; 1, 30, 1; Strom. 4, 26, 5; Exc. ex Theod. 77, 3.
3 Paed. 2, 118, 5; 1, 28, 1; Protr. 117, 4.
4 Paed. 1 , 25, 1; Strom. 7, 14, 1 ; 4, 160, 3.
5 Paed. 1, 26, 3; Protr. 116, 4.
6 Paed. 1, 25, 3; Strom. 7, 14, 1.
7 Cf. J. Danielou, “Traversee de la mer rouge et bapteme aux premiers si&cles” in
RSR 33 (1946), 402-30, and F. J. Dolger, “Der Durchzug durch den Jordan als Sinn-
bild der christlichen Taufe” in AuC, II (1930), 70-79.
289
after which the Promised Land is opened to him. Jesus instead of Moses
is his guide on his further paths.8 Just as Israel was then freed from the
power of Pharaoh, so the baptized person is liberated from the dominion
of Satan; and just as Israel journeyed through the wilderness, guided by
the column of cloud and fire, so also the believer, who with Christ passed
through Christ’s death and burial, will rise on the third day through
baptism in water and the Holy Spirit; and God will henceforth lead him
on the way of salvation: “You become healthy, sound, and cleansed from
the stains of sin; you come out a new man, ready to sing the new song.” 9
By this act the Christian is summoned to follow Christ, the new guide
who has been given him in baptism. Before, he was an imitator diaboli;
now in baptism he has found a new example to follow: the Logos with
whom and in whom he sets out on the paths of his spiritual life which is
to lead him to the Father.10 Baptism is, therefore, the beginning of this
new life, since its life-giving power has its source in the death of Christ
on the cross, and the life of baptismal grace derives ultimately from the
crucifixion.11
Origen bases his doctrine of the spiritual life as a baptismal one on these
truths of the faith concerning the nature of baptism. That element which
received its foundation by what happened sacramentally in baptism, must
further develop; the new life then received must prosper in the spiritual
life of the soul, but can do so only if it is renewed daily.12 The Logos must
be able to act in the soul of the baptized person like a vine, whose grapes
reach their full sweetness gradually.13 The Logos already exercises this
purifying power in a soul which is preparing for baptism; the whole
ascetical struggle of the catechumen to train himself in the life of Christian
virtue receives its effectiveness from the anticipatory radiance of the grace
of baptism.14 But the spiritual life receives its accomplishment and stamp
after baptism, and from the sacrament. The apotaxis of Satan pronounced
in baptism must be constantly repeated if the grace of baptism is to be
preserved. Its corresponding syntage, or covenant with Christ, imposes an
obligation of absolute fidelity to the baptismal vow, which some keep
without faltering, but which others break and so bear with them the shame
of Egypt.15 The task set every Christian in his religious life can be expressed,
8 In Iesu Nave hom. 4, 1; cf. also hom. 5, 1; In Num. horn. 26, 4; In Ioann, comm.
6, 42, 220.
8 Cf. the whole fifth Hom. in Exod., especially 1, 2, and 5.
10 In Num. hom. 12, 4; In Exod. hom. 10, 4; In Gen. hom. 2, 5.
11 In Gen. hom. 13, 4; In Exod. hom. 11, 2.
12 In Rom. comm. 5, 8.
13 In Cant. comm. 2.
14 In Ioann, comm. 32, 7; In Iesu Nave hom. 4, 1; In Lev. hom. 6, 2.
15 In Exod. hom. 8, 4; In Iesu Nave hom. 26, 2; 4, 2.
290
according to Origen, in the concise phrase r/jpeiv to (3a7m<7|jLa, that is to

preserve baptismal grace.16 But the obligation of fidelity to the baptismal
vow does not derive simply from the renunciation of Satan’s world. By
baptism Christ becomes the bridegroom and spouse of the soul, and marital
fidelity must be preserved; a return to the impure spirits of the pagan period
of life would break this fidelity and sully the white robe of baptism.17
Fidelity to baptismal vows and to the divine espousals can be kept solely
by a perpetual fight against the powers of the evil one. In this combat the
baptized persons follow once more the example of their master, who was
likewise tempted after his baptism in the Jordan; and so the daily practice
of a baptismal spirituality is an actual imitation of Christ.18 Viewed
positively, the fidelity to baptism ensured by perpetual combat leads to the
abundant development of all virtues. Two attitudes, which early Chris
tianity held in particularly high esteem grow from a baptismal piety truly
lived. These are genuine love of one’s neighbour and readiness for martyr
dom. Brotherly love is a transmission of the Father’s love for us, which
we receive in baptism: we imitate him when we give our love to our
neighbour.19 And, further, the Spirit conferred by baptism bestows the
courage to suffer:20 baptismal renunciation includes a willingness for mar
tyrdom. 21
In their doctrine of baptismal spirituality as the development of the
grace of baptism and the imitation of Christ’s example, the Alexandrian
teachers were not framing the demands of an esoteric teaching on perfection
addressed merely to an elite. Indeed, because in this context Origen was
speaking to all Christians, he was therefore aware of the failure of many
in the face of this lofty religious ideal;22 and that is precisely what led
him to preach repeatedly on a right understanding of the mystery of
Christian baptism, and to call for its realization in daily life. Other pastors
and writers of the third century speak in a similar way to the Alexandrians,
if not with equal force. For Cyprian, Christian life is the continuance of
the renuntiatio saeculi, which, once expressed in baptism, must now be
made effective by following our Lord when God tests the Christians
through persecution.23 Cyprian’s biographer Pontius reveals the same
notion of Christian life as the carrying out of the obligations of baptism
by not beginning his description of the bishop’s life until the latter’s
16 In Ier. hom. 2, 3.
17 In Exod. hom. 8, 5; 1, 5; 11, 7.
18 In Exod. hom. 2, 3; 1, 5.
19 In Cant. comm. 2; In Ioann, comm. 20, 17.
21 Protr. 11, 107.
22 In Rom. comm. 5, 8; In Num. hom. 5, 1.
23 Ep. 13, 5, 3.
29 1
baptism: “The deeds of a man of God should be counted only from the
moment when he was born to God.” He expressly emphasizes that Cyprian
always preached during persecution that Christians must prove themselves
worthy of their birth, and that a man born again of God could not belie
his origin.24 It was in accord with this judgment on the importance of
baptism for the daily religious life of the Christian that such care was taken
by the leaders of the Christian communities to provide a preparation for
baptism in the catechumenate, and to organize a solemn celebration of it.
The whole impact of initiation into the mysteries of the Christian faith
was to work itself out in a religious life which never forgot the radiance
of that hour nor the gravity of the solemn baptismal vow. When Christian
art, in the previously-mentioned baptistery of the house church of Dura-
Europos, represented the Good Shepherd among his sheep,25 (signifying
in this case Christ among the newly baptized Christians), it sought to
inculcate forcefully in the faithful the importance and meaning of the
baptismal sacrament.
Devotion to Martyrdom
Whereas the preaching of baptismal spirituality was to increase in extent

and depth in the spiritual doctrines of the fourth century, devotion to
martyrdom as the second fundamental attitude in the striving for Christian
perfection reached its height in the third. Closely linked with the idea of
the imitation of Christ, esteem for martyrdom as the summit and crown
of all perfection became the most widespread, and ascetically fruitful,
watchword in the world of early Christian spirituality. At the end of the
second century, when the Church increasingly made it a theme of preaching
to her own members, there was already a rich tradition on which to build.
With Ignatius of Antioch the connexion between martyrdom and imitation
of Christ was already clearly grasped and forcefully expressed: a man is
a true disciple of Christ only if he dies for Christ’s sake; anyone who does
not accept death willingly with eyes fixed “on his Passion” has not the life
of Christ within him.26 The recorder of the martyrdom of Bishop Polycarp
of Smyrna expressly drew a parallel between Christ and the martyr; he
saw the justification for the honour which was beginning to be paid to
martyrs in the fact that they are the authentic disciples and imitators of
the Lord. Similarly, the communities of Lyons and Vienne said proudly
that their martyrs of the year 177 were emulators and imitators of Christ.
They expressed the idea in biblical terms, saying of Vettius Epagathus that
24 Pontius, Vita Cypr. 2: “hominis dei facta non debent aliunde numerari, nisi ex quo
deo natus est”; ibid. 9 “quos renatos per deum constat, degeneres esse non congruit.”
25 See above p. 287.
26 Ignatius, Ad Rom. 4, 2; Ad Magn. 5, 2; cf. Ad Rom. 6, 3.
292
“he was a true disciple of Christ, because he followed the Lamb wherever
he went”, even to the death of martyrdom.27 Origen declared the same
view,28 and the pastor Cyprian took advantage of the persecutions to
remind his flock that they had at such times to imitate Christ as a teacher
of patience and suffering, and that in the daily celebration of the Eucharist
they drank the Blood of Christ in order to be able one day to give their
blood for him.29 Anyone who suffers for confessing the name of Christ
becomes thereby a “sharer and companion of his Passion”, as Roman priests
stressed in a letter to Cyprian.30 The concept of following Christ and of
imitating him occurs with especial frequence in the accounts of the martyrs
and in the pronouncements of Christian writers concerning martyrdom.31
Devotion to martyrdom received a particular force of attraction from
the idea that a m artyr’s violent death led in a unique way to union with
Christ. It was a widespread conviction in the third century that this union
with Christ is already manifest when a Christian confesses his fidelity to
his Lord under torture. At that moment it is Christ who strengthens him,
and so fills him with his presence that, in a kind of exaltation, he scarcely
feels the pain of torture and execution.32 Thus, the Christian captive
Felicity replied to the jailer who derided her for groaning at the birth of
her child: “Now it is I who suffer what I suffer; but there (that is, at her
martyrdom), it will be another in me who will suffer for me, because I too
will be suffering for him.” 33 Cyprian comforted and strengthened Chris
tians facing martyrdom with the assurance that the Lord “himself contends
in us, goes to battle with us, and in our hard struggle himself gives the
crown and receives it.” 34 It was this idea which culminated in the custom
of honouring the martyrs with the title of Christophorus: union with Christ
attains perfection by suffering martyrdom.35 The martyrs were convinced
that nothing united them with Christ as directly as a violent death while
bearing witness to him. From this belief sprang the aspiration, found as
early as Ignatius of Antioch, precisely for this kind of death, which is
described by Cyprian as “the baptism which, after our departure from
27 Mart. Polyc. 17, 3; 19, 1; Euseb. HE 5, 2, 2; 5,1,10.

28 In loan. comm. 2, 34.
29 Cyprian, Ep. 58, 1, 3.
30 Ep. 31, 3: “collega passionis cum Christo.”
81 Cf. Passio Perpet. et Felicit. 18, 9; Clement of Alex. Strom. 4, 3, 14; Tertullian,
Scorp. 9; De resurrect, cam. 8; Cyprian, Ep. 76, 7, 1; Pseudo-Cyprian, De laude mart.
6; 26; 29.
82 Cf. Mart. Polycarp. 2, 2 and the Christians of Lyons, Eusebius HE 5, 1, 23, 42.
88 Passio Perpet. et Felic. 15, 3; Cf. Ep. ad Diogn. 7, 9.
84 Cyprian, Ep. 10, 4; 37, 2; 76, 7. Further references in H. v. Campenhausen, Die Idee
des Martyriums in der alten Kirche (Gottingen 1936), 90, note 1.
35 F. J. Dolger in AuC, IV (1934), 73-80.
293
the world, unites us directly to God”, 36 and which consequently, as a

baptism in blood, completely replaces the other baptism, and in fact sur
passes it in efficacy, because there is no danger of later relapse. Ultimately,
the value set on martyrdom as absolute perfection was based on the double
conviction that martyrdom represents the highest form of imitation of
Christ and unites us in a unique way with him. Clement of Alexandria
equates martyrdom with reXetoxTu;, since anyone who dies for his faith
“has accomplished the work of perfect love”.87
There is no plainer way of proving love of God and of Christ than by
suffering violent death under persecution. Consequently, the exhortatio ad
martyrium was a regular part of early Christian preaching and literature;
not a dull cliche, but a very real factor in the actual realities of the third
century itself. Origen and Cyprian are its purest and most convincing
exponents. Origen’s work on the meaning and dignity of martyrdom is the
expression of a genuine readiness and desire for martyrdom, exhorting his
own father in prison not to be dissuaded by the thought of the fate of his
family from bearing witness unto death, and pointing with pride to friends
and pupils who had travelled the road to the end.38 Origen regarded the
times of persecution as the truly great age of the Church because of the
martyrs, whereas he had to recognize with sorrow that long periods of
peace quickly led to slackening of enthusiastic faith.39 Cyprian’s letters to
his flock during persecution present the same picture. In his own behaviour
the Bishop of Carthage displayed the balanced and wise prudence that the
Church demanded, which did not foolishly and fanatically seek martyr
dom,40 yet did not fail in the hour of trial. When, during the Decian
persecution, an alarmingly large number of lapsed Christians created no
small problem for the Church authorities, Cyprian had also to observe that
readiness for martyrdom was found only in an elite.
Devotion to martyrdom is also clearly seen in the efforts of Christian
circles to find substitutes for actual death by martyrdom, when for various
reasons this was not in fact attainable. In very early times there were those
who considered a serious striving for moral purity as an attitude which,
though certainly not equal in value to real martyrdom, nevertheless
revealed in a way a martyr’s mentality which put God first.41 Origen was
convinced that in a community there are Christians “who have taken up
their cross and follow Christ and are ready to shed their blood for him”,
*6 Ad Fortun. praefat. 4.
37 Strom. 4, 4, 14.
88 Euseb. HE 6, 2, 3-6; 6, 3, 4.
39 In Ier. hom. 4, 3.
40 Like the Montanists, cf. Tertullian’s De fuga in persecutione.
41 Already in Clement of Alexandria, Strom. 4, 7, 43.
294
l
and so are martyrs before God.42 Cyprian clearly expressed the difference
between actual martyrdom and martyrdom of desire, and worked out a
spirituality centred on martyrdom.43 What was of essential importance
here was the evolution of martyrdom into a criterion for Christian perfec
tion, even if in detail only a greater or lesser resemblance to martyrdom
was retained. Dionysius of Alexandria judged the self-sacrifice of some
Christians who died in the time of the plague in the service of the sick
almost on the same level as a martyr’s death.44 But a new development took
place when certain ascetic modes of live, such as the state of virginity and
retirement from the world, became considered as real substitutes for actual
death by martyrdom, and were praised as a new way of following Christ.
The Asceticism of the Third Century
Christians of both sexes who renounced marriage, who dissociated them

selves more than others from secular life, yet remained with their families and
put themselves at the service of the Christian community, are not found for
the first time in the third century. The biblical basis for such a mode of life
and the example of a celibate life given by Christ and St Paul produced at a
very early date their effect, for the letter of the Roman Bishop Clement
presupposes the existence of celibates, and the Didache refers to a type of
wandering ascetic which was commonly active in the missionary field.45
Ignatius of Antioch and Hermas of Rome knew of groups of virgins in
their communities who enjoyed high esteem.46 The apologists, in their
descriptions of the life of the Christian communities, did not fail to point
out to the pagans that a notably high number of men and women leading
celibate lives testified to the high moral quality of the followers of Chris
tianity; and the pagans themselves were impressed by this feature of Chris
tian spiritual life.47 Occasional references in second-century texts are
followed in the third century by a series of writings which expressly concern
Christian asceticism, and provide a detailed account of its ideals and of
the dangers which beset it. Its adherents had become so numerous in the
meantime that they represented an important factor in Christian daily
life in the churches of both East and West. They were not yet committed
42 In Num. horn. 10, 2.

43 Ad Fortun. 13; De zelo et liv. 16.
44 Euseh. HE 7, 22, 7.
45 1 Clem. 38:2, which terms this life ^y^paTeia; Did. 11 and 12.
40 Ignatius, Ad Smyrn. 13, 1; Ad Polyc. 5, 2; Hermas, Pastor Sim. 9, 2; 10, 3; vis. 1,
2, 4.
47 Justin, Apol. 15; 29; Athenagoras, Suppl. 33; Min. Felix, Oct. 31, 5. For the judgment
of the pagan Galen regarding the Christians, cf. R. Walzer, Galen on Jews and
Christians (Oxford 1949).
295
to a definite mode of life with a fixed rule; and so they mostly remained
with their families and still disposed of their own private property. Only
the pseudo-Clementine letters Ad virgines indicate a tendency in that
period for closer groupings, just as they also refer to missionary and
charitable activity by the ascetics.48 Moreover, there was still no set rite
by which the Church herself received them into their state of life; they
simply bound themselves by a very serious promise to a life of continence.49
That promise, however, was known to the community authorities, who
punished its transgression very strictly, namely by excommunication. On
the other hand, the promise did not bind for ever; the ascetic for special
reasons could forego his mode of life and contract matrimony.
Within the community and among its rulers, the ascetics enjoyed unique
esteem. For Clement of Alexandria, they were the “elect of the elect”,
while Cyprian saw in them “the more splendid part of Christ’s flock, the
flower of Mother Church”. 50 A new element with increased prestige was
ascetic virginity, since this was connected with the idea of the soul’s
espousal to Christ. Tertullian was already acquainted with the title “bride
of Christ”, used to honour virgin ascetics, both men and women;51 and
the term later became part of the customary official language of the Church.
Origen’s exposition of the Song of Songs,52 in terms of the individual’s
conception of it as a description of the relationship between the particular
soul and its heavenly bridegroom, Christ, inaugurated the triumphant
progress of this idea through the centuries which followed. At first this
notion was at the service of the ideal of virginity; Methodius of Olympus
meant by his lyrical praise of virginity that it is not to be separated from
espousal to Christ. The records of the martyrdom of virgins consecrated
to God, such as Agnes, Pelagia, and Caecilia, are pervaded by this idea.53
A theological basis was sought for the worth of the ascetics. Their mode
of life was declared to be the worthiest substitute for death by martyrdom;
like the latter, it called for total self-sacrifice,54 and consequently, according
to Cyprian’s warning, the spirit of the martyrs must be living in the ascetics
also. Methodius directly compares virginity with martyrdom, while others
list the ascetics immediately after the martyrs: the latter bearing fruit a
hundredfold, the former sixtyfold. The corona virginitatis is accorded to
48 Cyprian, De hab. virg. 7-12, 18-19; Pseudo-Clement, Ad virg. 1, 8, 4; 1, 2; Origen,

In Iudic. hom. 9, 1; In Ier. hom. 20; Contra Cels. 5, 49.
49 Cyprian, De hab. virg. 4 and Ep. 62, 3. Canon 13 of the Synod of Elvira speaks of
a pactum virginitatis.
50 Clement of Alexandria, Quis div. salv. 36; Cyprian, De hab. virg. 3.
51 De orat. 22; De resurr. cam. 61; De exhort, cast. 13.
62 Both in the commentary as well as in the homilies on the Song of Songs.
58 Cf. the texts collected by J. Schmid in RAC II, 560 ff.
54 Methodius, Symp. 5, 4; 11.
296
the virgines utriusque sexus, just as the corona, martyrum is to the martyrs,
for their life is a true following of Christ.55 Such a lofty ideal is liable to
particular perils. Tertullian warned the ascetics especially against pride,
to which the high esteem in which they were held in the community might
tempt them; the pseudo-Clementine letters show a similar awareness of
the threat of vanity and empty show. Cyprian saw clearly the practical
dangers which life in the world involved for the ascetics, and consequently
demanded of them a high degree of all the virtues. Methodius tried to
strengthen them positively by directing their minds to meditation and the
wealth that lies therein; virginity should be a means of individual
sanctification.56
Ascetical excess and a disproportion between the individual’s moral
strength and such lofty idealism explain a grave aberration in Christian
asceticism, especially in the third century. Christian ascetics lived together
as “sister and brother” in a sort of spiritual matrimony, and so imperilled
the virginity they had vowed to keep. N ot only did they expose themselves
to the insinuations and derision of the people around them, but they also
failed grievously themselves. The sources leave no doubt about the existence
and considerable extent of the aberration.57 The system of agapetae
extended through the East, in Syria and Egypt as well as in North Africa,58
and forced the ecclesiastical authorities to decisive action. In Cyprian’s time
a deacon who was guilty in this matter was excommunicated. Cyprian’s
clearsightedness and freedom from illusion made him intervene even where
there were as yet no serious lapses.59 The De singularitate clericorum, an
anonymous treatise of the third century, could not conceal the fact that
the evil had penetrated certain clerical circles, which sometimes employed
biblical texts to justify their attitude. Already in the third century some
synods imposed heavy sanctions on the guilty, but the custom persisted
obstinately in East and West, surviving in Spain down to the sixth century.60
The asceticism of the third century not only continued in its previous
form, but also provided the source of two new developments which were
55 Cyprian, De hab. virg. 21; Methodius, Symp. 7, 3; Pseudo-Clement, Ep. ad virg.

1, 5, 5; 1, 7, 1-2.
56 Tertullian, De virg. vel. passim; Cyprian, De hab. virg. passim; Methodius, Symp. 4,
5; 7, 2; Pseudo-Clement, Ep. ad virg. 1, 3, 2; 1, 4, 2.
57 Especially the Ep. 2 ad virgines of the Pseudo-Clement, Cyprian, De hab. virg. and
De singularitate clericorum.
58 Dionysius of Alexandria (Euseb. HE 7, 30, 12) calls them yuvouxei; auvetaaxToi,
which was later rendered in Latin as virgines subintroductae.
59 Cyprian, Ep. 4 and 13.
60 So the Synods of Antioch (c. 267-8), Elvira (canon 27), Ancyra (canon 19), Nicaea
(canon 3). Jerome, Ep. 117, and John Chrysostom still had to take up a definite position
on the matter. Later Synods: Carthage (348) canon 3; Hippo (393) canon 20; Carthage
(397) canon 17; Arles (443) canon 3; Agde (510) canon 10; Toledo (531) canon 3.
297
rich in consequences. From this practice sprang the early monasticism of

the East, which, in its first eremitical phase, was merely a transference of
the life and activity of the ascetics from the Christian community into
solitude, such as Athanasius’s account of the eremitical period of St An
tony’s life records for the end of the third century. The baptismal spiritu
ality and devotion to martyrdom of the second and third centuries, in
conjunction with ascetical virginity, continued to exert influence as funda
mental ideas of monasticism, and so proved their intense vitality. The
vows taken by the monk were compared in value with a second baptism,
and his life with a spiritual martyrdom which made him, like the actual
martyr, an athleta Christi, while his continence ranked him in the company
of those who are the brides of Christ.61 The ideal of virginity additionally
prepared the way for the concept of priestly celibacy.62
Within the Church as a whole the manner of life of the ascetics was an
highly esteemed ideal, but nevertheless one which was always freely
accepted, and only by a minority. As soon as individual Christians or
groups attempted to make it a norm binding on all Christians, it inevitably
led to conflicts between them and the ecclesiastical authorities. The
Encratites, followers of the Syrian Tatian, represented such an ascetic ideal
carried to extremes; they characteristically named themselves not after
their teacher but after the ascetical principle of their life.63 The Encratites
of Mesopatamia admitted no one to baptism who did not observe absolute
sexual continence, and thus forced married people who did not want to
renounce matrimony into a perpetual catechumenate existence.64 It is true
that the other heretical views held by Tatian were decisive in his expulsion
from the great Church about 172, but his ascetical rigorism certainly
contributed to that judgment. Encratite tendencies are perceptible in many
apocryphal acts of apostles, as well as in the lives of individual Christians.
As long as encrateia was not imposed by these on every Christian as
necessary for salvation, the Church could tolerate them or excuse indi
vidual cases, such as Origen’s self-castration, as ascetical enthusiasm carried
too far. The intense attachment of the third-century Church to the ascetical
ideal can certainly be taken as a general proof of her high moral quality.81
81 Cf. E. E. Malone, The Monk and the Martyr (Diss. Washington 1950); J. Schmid,
“Brautschaft (heilige)” in RAC II, 561.
62 Cf. Origen, In Lev. horn. 1, 6, which demands continence of the priest, for he serves
the altar.
88 01 lyy.p%xei<; according to Irenaeus, Adv. haer. 1, 28, 1; and cf. Origen, Contra
Cels. 5, 65.
64 See A. Voobus, Celibacy a Requirement for Admission to Baptism in the Early Syrian
Church (Stockholm 1951).
298
Prayer and Fasting in Early Christian Spirituality
Prayer not only maintained, as a matter of course, its position in the third
century as an indispensable element in Christian worship of God, but to
an increasing extent became the subject of theological reflection and prac
tical concern for its right performance both liturgical and private.
Alexandrian theologians worked devotedly at a theological interpretation
of Christian prayer and endeavoured to incorporate it into their conception
of Christian perfection as a whole. The Latins, Tertullian and Cyprian in
particular, display in their expositions of the Our Father the greater
interest of the Latin mind in questions of the actual practice of the life
of prayer and in its importance for the detail of Christian daily life. For
Clement of Alexandria the Christian’s duty to pray is self-evident, for
the soul must thank God without ceasing for all his gifts; and in the
striving for perfection, prayer of petition is likewise indispensable, and
it must be used to implore true gnosis and the forgiveness of sins.65 After the
example of his master, brethren and enemies are included in this prayer
of the Christian, and he is mindful, too, of the conversion of the whole
world to the true God. Prayer accompanies him in all he does, binds him
most closely to God, makes him “walk in God”. 66 Clement’s best answer
to the pagan reproach of d<ye(3£t.a (impiety) addressed to the Christians,
is to point out that for them, prayer is the most holy and precious sacrifice
with which to honour God.67 With a certain hesitation he hazards the
definition that prayer is “intercourse with God”. 68 So the Christian con
secrates his everyday life to God when he conscientiously keeps the hours
of prayer and in this way bears witness to the Lord throughout his life.69
The highest form of prayer for the true Gnostic is interior mental prayer,
which Clement clearly distinguishes from vocal prayer. Fie does not, of
course, reject the latter, but unquestionably assigns the highest rank to
interior prayer: it needs no words; it is unceasing; it makes the whole life
a holy day; and gives Oscoptoc, the vision of divine things.70 In this distinction
between vocal and mental prayer the later division of the spiritual life
into active and contemplative is already indicated in a purely Christian
sense. Clement is its first important pioneer.
Where Clement provided an outline sketch of prayer, Origen gives a
whole monograph, which deepens and carries farther what Clement had
begun. In order to gain a full view of Origen’s teaching on prayer one
65 Strom. 6, 113, 2; 6, 102, 1; 5, 16, 7.

66 Ibid. 7, 62, 2ff.; 7, 41, 4, 6; 7, 40, 3; 7, 44, 5; 7, 35, 5.
67 Ibid. 7, 31, 7.
68 Ibid. 7, 39, 6: ofiiXla 7rp&<; t 6 v 0e6v f ) e u x * ) > ebtetv ToXjJtrjpdTepov.
89 Ibid. 2, 145, 6.
70 Ibid. 7, 49, 6ff.; 6, 102, 1; 7, 35, 6; 7, 49, 4.
299
must draw upon his theoretical exposition and upon the lively observations
and the spontaneous prayers found in his homilies and biblical commen
taries. Like Clement, Origen is profoundly aware that the life of the
Christian must be a perpetual prayer, in which daily prayers have their
indispensable place.71 To be blessed, such prayer requires a certain disposi
tion in the soul. Origen very definitely includes in this a continual defence
against sin, lasting freedom from emotional disturbance, and finally interior
recollection and concentration, which excludes all from without and within
that cannot be consecrated to God.72 Under such conditions, a Christian’s
prayer develops in an ascent by stages. The first stage being prayer of
petition, which should request the great and heavenly things: the gift of
gnosis and growth in virtue.73 At the stage of the 7rpo<7£i>xf), the praise of
God is linked with prayer of petition.74 The summit of Christian prayer
is reached in interior, wordless prayer which unites the soul to God in a
unique w ay.75 This mirrors Origen’s basic conception of a spiritual ascent
by stages, ending in the loving knowledge of God in which the soul is
“divinized”. 76 A more concrete view of Origen’s practice of prayer is given
by the many actual texts of prayers which occur frequently in his
homilies.77 Somewhat surprisingly, they are often addressed to Christ,
though in his treatise on prayer, Origen always maintains that prayer is
to be addressed to the Father; theoretical conviction was overborne by the
spontaneous devotion to Christ which is also apparent in many other ways
in the homilies. N ot only does Origen repeatedly exhort his hearers to
pray to Jesus, but in his addresses, he himself continually turns to him in
supplications of his own composition which reveal a rich and heartfelt
devotion to Jesus. It is an eminently important fact in the history of
spirituality, and consequently in the history of the Church, that the theory
and practice of prayer represented by the Alexandrian Origen exercised
an extensive influence. His teaching on prayer decisively affected the
spirituality of the Eastern Church, particularly in its monastic form, and
the practice of devotion to Jesus formulated in his prayers influenced, by
way of Ambrose, Western mystical devotion to Jesus down to St Bernard’s
day.78
The commentaries on the Our Father by the two Latins, Tertullian and
71 Origen, De or. 1, 12, 2.

72 Ibid. 8, 1; 9, 1, 3; Contra Cels. 8, 17; 7, 44.
78 The kinds of prayer are dealt with in connexion with 1 Tim. 2:1 in De or. 14, 2. On
the prayer of petition, see also De or. 1, 17; 2, 2; 13, 4; Contra Cels. 7, 44.
74 De or. 14, 2; 13, 5.
76 In Num. horn. 10, 3; Contra Cels. 7, 44; De or. 9, 2; 10, 2.
76 Cf. K. Rahner in RAM 13 (1932), 113-45.
77 Cf. K. Baus in RQ 49 (1954), 46-55.
78 Cf. F. Bertrand, Mystique de Jesus chez Origene (Paris 1951), 153 ff.
300
Cyprian, introduce us to a view and atmosphere of Christian prayer that

is both independent of, and very different from that of the Greeks. Both
of them, of course, are like the Alexandrians, profoundly convinced of
the obligation of prayer. Both they and the Greeks are inspired through
the example given by Christ, who prayed himself and taught how to
pray;79 they know the same times for prayer and the biblical grounds for
them, and have similar ideas about the mental conditions necessary for
proper prayer.80 But the two Latins are very far removed from the lofty
idealistic strain of the Greeks. Deeper speculation about the nature and
dignity of interior prayer and its significance for growth in the spiritual
life is alien to them, and there is certainly no hint in their writing of a
theory about the various stages of prayer. Their urgent concern is with
the actual concrete form of prayer and its place in the daily life of the
Christian community. For them the form of prayer to be preferred is the
Our Father, the new form of prayer taught by Christ, and known to the
Christians alone, because they alone have God as their Father.81 Both
understand the petition for daily bread in a predominantly eucharistic
sense, which Cyprian expresses with warmth and emphasis.82 For both,
humility is the right attitude in which to pray; all passions and faults must
be laid aside if the prayer is to find acceptance with God.83 A trait of the
Latin organizing spirit is evident in Tertullian’s detailed treatment of
questions concerning the external order of prayer, such as the times for
prayer — morning prayers, evening prayers, grace, prayer at the third,
sixth, and ninth hours — and the physical posture of those at prayer: they
are to pray with hands raised and extended, in imitation of their suffering
Lord on the cross.84 Tertullian propounds an actual theological feature in
what he says about the unlimited efficacy of Christian prayer,85 and in
his exposition of the second petition of the Our Father, which like Origen
he understands in a directly eschatological sense: “Yes, very soon. Lord,
may thy kingdom come; that is the longing of Christians, the confounding
of the pagans, the joy of the angels.” 86 Perhaps Cyprian’s undeniable
dependence on Tertullian has sometimes caused the original contribution
of the African bishop in his exposition of the Our Father to be too easily
overlooked. The much greater religious warmth and persuasiveness with
79 Tertullian, De or. 1; Cyprian, De dom. or. 1 , 3.

80 Tertullian, De or. 11-15; Cyprian, De dom. or. 4-6, 34. For the Greeks, cf. Clement,
Strom. 2, 145, 1; 7, 40, 3; Origen, De or. 31, 2.
81 Tertullian, De or. 2; Cyprian, De dom. or. 9-11.
82 Tertullian, De or. 6; Cyprian, De dom. or. 18.
83 Tertullian, De or. 11-14, 17; Cyprian, De dom. or. 4, 6.
84 Tertullian, De or. 18-25; more briefly, Cyprian, De dom. or. 35-36.
85 De or. 29.
86 De or. 5.
301
which he speaks of prayer are to be appreciated, and he deserves further

recognition for his emphatic identification of the Kingdom of God with
Christ: “For whose coming we daily long, and whose early arrival we
desire and long for.” 87 Of paramount importance however, is the ecclesio-
logical emphasis which he would like to see in the prayers of Christians:
“When we pray, we do not pray for one but for the whole people, for we
are all one” ; the Christian people at prayer is joined together in the unity
of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit; anyone who breaks this
unity sins grievously, and lacks an essential condition for genuine prayer.88
Besides the Our Father, Tertullian and of course, Cyprian too, freely
recognize improvised prayers.89 Early Christianity had also at its disposal
a collection of set prayer texts in the Old Testament Psalter. Its liturgical
and private use presupposed, of course, its Christianization, which must
have taken place in the second century, as the singing of the psalms in
divine worship and at the agape was an established custom by the beginning
of the third century.90 This Christianization took place by way of a typo
logical interpretation of the psalms, which either viewed the speaker in
the psalms as Christ himself addressing the Father, or heard in them the
voice of the Church recognizing in the Dominus psalmorum her glorified
Lord and speaking directly to him. A particularly striking example of the
first kind is Psalm 3, verse 6: “ego dormivi et soporatus sum et exsurrexi”,
which was already regarded by Justin as spoken by the Risen Christ on
Easter morning. This interpretation is also found in Irenaeus and was taken
over by Hippolytus and Cyprian.91 Origen, too, has examples of praying
the psalms to Christ92 and thus illustrates the strength of the trend, for
despite theoretical hesitation he cannot refrain from it. The Christianiza
tion of the Psalter, which made it the prayer and hymn book absolutely
preferred by the early Church, was furthered and facilitated by the impor
tance and extent of prayer to Christ in early Christian popular devotion.
This is strikingly evident in those prayers which rose spontaneously to the
lips of martyrs when they were summoned to bear last testimony to their
Lord. Most of these are words of gratitude to Christ for giving them the
grace of bearing witness to him, or protestations that they accept death
for his name’s sake, or cries of supplication for Christ’s strength and
support in that hour of trial. A comparison of the number of prayers
87 De dom. or. 13.

88 De dom. or. 8, 24, 30.
89 Cyprian, De dom. or. 3; Tertullian, De or. 9.
90 Tertullian, Apol. 39,18; Hippolytus, Trad, apost. (Ethiopic) in Hennecke-Schneemelcher
581; IIpaêK; IlaijXoo (Hamburg 1936), 50ff.
91 Justin, Dial. 97, 1; Irenaeus, Adv. haer. 4, 33, 13; Hippolytus, Comm, on Psalms,
Frag. 37 (GCS 1, 2, 153); Cyprian, Test. 2, 24.
92 Cf. for example, In Ioann, comm. 19, 3; In Psalm. 29, 3.
302
addressed to Christ by the martyrs with those addressed to the Father

reveals their overwhelmingly Christocentric character.83*93 In the domain of
popular piety there are the strikingly numerous prayers to Christ in the
apocryphal acts of apostles,94 and many of the above-mentioned prayers
to Christ in Origen’s homilies must have been an echo from private popular
piety.
Finally, prayer addressed to Christ was expressed by turning to the East
when praying. The first signs of this custom appear a tvthe beginning of the
second century, and it established itself widely in East and West in the
third century. The grounds adduced for the custom are theologically
notable: people prayed facing the East because the return of the Lord was
awaited from that direction and because Paradise, the desire of all Chris
tians, lies there.95 This manner of praying to Christ therefore had an
eschatological significance. For some Christian circles in the Greek and
Syrian East, it was also a way of expressing the theological contrast to
Judaism, whose followers prayed facing the Temple in Jerusalem. Another
custom had been associated with it since the second century, that of praying
before a crucifix, wooden or painted, so arranged that those praying stood
facing the East. Here too the early Christian texts plainly indicate an
eschatological motive for this custom: as a sign of the Lord’s triumph, the
cross will precede him, on his second coming, from the East.96 This
emphasis on the crucifix in the Christian’s position at prayer was probably
based on the extensive use of the sign of the cross in both private devotion
and the liturgy, many testimonies to which are found in the writers of the
third century.97 Tertullian’s statement can stand for many: “Whenever we
go out or depart, at the beginning or end of anything, when we dress or
put on our shoes, before the bath or before sitting down to table, when
putting on the lights, when we lie down to rest or sit down on a chair,
in every action of daily life, we sign our foreheads with the sign of the
cross.” 98 The texts of prayers and the position adopted for prayer therefore
show private prayer in the early Christian Church as a whole that was
centred to a large extent on Christ and on the cross.
83 The proportion is about 6:1; cf. a selection of these prayers by K. Baus in FThT. 62
(1953), 23-8.
94 A survey is found in E. v. d. Goltz, Das Gebet in der dltesten Christenheit (Leipzig
1901), 343-56.
95 Cf. particularly, F. J. Dolger, Sol salutis, 136-70, 198-242. In the first concluding hymn
of Methodius’ Symp., the virgins go in solemn procession eastwards to meet the heavenly
bridegroom, Christ.
96 This has been established by E. Peterson, “Das Kreuz und das Gebet nach Osten” in
Friihkirche, Judentum und Gnosis (Freiburg i. Br. 1959).
97 Cf. F. J. Dolger, “Beitrage zur Geschichte des Kreuzzeichens” in JbAC 1 (1958),
5-19; 2 (1959), 15-22; 3 (1960), 11-16; 4 (1961), 5-17.
98 De cor. 3, 4.
303
The ascetical enthusiasm of the third century also led to a considerable

practice of fasting both in connexion with liturgical worship and in the
private devotion of Christians. The weekly fasts on Wednesdays and
Fridays that had descended from apostolic times" became more firmly
established and received a further development in the statio of the North
African church. In Tertullian’s time the statio was still quite definitely an
ascetical exercise freely undertaken; it lasted until the ninth hour (3 p.m.),
and was linked with a special divine service.99100 This latter, however, must
be understood to have been the celebration of the eucharist, which would
take place at the usual time before sunrise. The high esteem of Station
fasting among Christians of North Africa can be judged from the refusal
of many of the faithful to take part in the celebration of the Eucharist on
Station days, because they thought the reception of Communion would
break the fast.101 In the East, the observation of the weekly fasts was,
according to the evidence of the Syrian Didascalia, early imposed as an
obligation.102 In Carthage, Station fasting was sometimes extended to
Saturday; the Roman church must also have known this custom, and it is
encountered in Spain at the end of the third century.103 The Church had
to defend the voluntary character of Station fasting against the rigorism
of Montanists and Encratites who represented it as an obligation strictly
binding on all Christians. At this period, too, the motive for the choice of
the two fast days in the week changed; while earlier it emphasized the
independence of the Christian custom from the Jewish one (the Jews kept
Monday and Thursday as fast days), now it was the connexion of the two
days with the events of our Lord’s Passion that was indicated: the betrayal
by Judas on a Wednesday and death on the cross on a Friday. Thus fasting
on these days was understood to be a fast of mourning and grief.104
The high value placed on fasting by the Church authorities is particularly
evident from the various ways in which they incorporated it into the
liturgy. As preparation for the feast of Easter, a Passover fast had been
early introduced, but its duration differed from local church to local church
and could extend over one, two, or even six days.105 The baptismal fast
of which there is evidence as early as the Didache, and in Justin, and which
at first only lasted one or two days,106 was now extended further; in the
99 Did. 8, 1; Hermas, Past. Sim. 5, 1, 2.
100 Tertullian, De ieiun. 2, 10, 12-14.
101 Tertullian, De or. 19; De cor. 3.
102 Didasc. 5, 14, 15.
108 Tertullian, De ieiun. 14; Hippolytus, In Dan. comm. 4, 20, 3; Synod. Illib., canon 26,
and cf. J. Schiimmer, Die altchristliche Fastenpraxis (Munster 1933), 152-9.
104 Tertullian, De ieiun. 10; Didasc. 5, 14, 15.
105 Tertullian, De ieiun. 2; Irenaeus, in Euseb. HE 5, 24; Trad, apost. 29 (64 Botte);
Didasc. 5, 18; Dionysius of Alexandria, Ep. ad Basil. 1.
106 Did. 7, 4; Justin, Apol. 61, 2; Trad, apost. 20 (48 Botte).
304
first period of preparation for baptism it consisted of restriction to bread,

water, and salt, but in the days immediately preceding baptism it involved
total abstention from food and drink.107 The baptismal fast was envisaged
in close relation to prayer, which fasting effectively supports; it was also
considered a means of atoning for former sins and of preparing for the
reception of the Spirit.108 Finally, fasting became an extremely important
factor in the penitential discipline of the early Christian Church generally,
which imposed on the sinner for the duration of his penance restrictions
on food and drink and sometimes days of strict fasting as well. Here, too,
the significance of the fast was seen to be in the support it gave to the atoning
prayer with which the sinner turned to God; but the Church always stressed
in addition the salutary character of such penitential fasts in themselves.109
Fasting as a means to gaining mastery over concupiscence and unregulated
sense pleasure and consequently as a way to higher perfection, found special
favour in early Christian ascetic circles. It brought with it the danger of
over-emphasis, and this sometimes found expression in heroic record-
breaking performances such as are reported repeatedly from the monastic
groups which superseded the ascetics.110 As opposed to such aberrations,
Christian authors very early emphasized that what was decisive was the
spirit, a genuine penitential attitude and self-denial, which alone give
bodily fasting its value.111 Others stressed corporal works of mercy to the
neighbour as a motive for fasting, for by its means a brother in need could
be given more help.112 The most valuable views here also are those that
envisaged fasting in close conjunction with prayer; which can be given
greater efficacy by this ascetical attitude.113 Similarly efficacious was the
widespread conception of fasting as an important preparation for every
kind of reception of the Spirit, so that fasting became an indispensable
requirement for men of the Spirit, prophets, teachers, and bishops.114 This
explains the inner link between prophecy and fasting which is encountered
in Montanism; fasting there became an absolutely necessary condition for
the gift of prophecy, and Tertullian in his work De ieiunio bitterly attacked
from his own standpoint the great Church which should not approve such
overrating of an ascetical practice.115
107 Cf. J. Schiimmer, op. cit. 166-8.

108 Tertullian, De bapt. 20; De ieiun. 8, 12; Clement of Alex. Exc. ex Theod. 83, 84.
109 Tertullian, De paen. 9-11; Ad ux. 2, 8; Didasc. 2, 16, 2; 2, 41, 6; Cyprian, De laps. 35.
110 Euseb. De mart. Pal. 3; Palladius, Hist. Laus. 1-2, 11, 18, 22, 36, 38, 43, 45, 48, 52.
111 Hermas, Past. Sim. 5, 1, 4; 5, 36; Justin, Dial. 15; Origen, In Lev. horn. 10, 2.
112 Aristides, Apol. 15.
113 Tertullian, Apol. 40, 13; De fuga 1.
114 Cf. Acts, 13:2 and also Hermas, Past. Vis. 2, 2, 1; 3, 1, 2; 3, 10, 6 If.; Tertullian,
De ieiun. 13; Fragm. Murat. 9-16.
115 Cf. particularly R. Arbesmann, “Fasting and Prophecy in Pagan and Christian
Antiquity” in Tr 7 (1949-51), 52-71.
305
Early Christian Morals
The ideals of Christian perfection just described, represented, as has already

been emphasized, maximum demands, the achievement of which was only
possible to an elite and consequently to a minority among the Christians.
There arises, therefore, the question how the great majority of the com
munity members in town and country lived their daily religious lives in
pagan surroundings and within a secular civilization determined by pagan
principles. Unfortunately the sources, even for the third century, still do
not provide very much information on this, and do not make it possible
to draw a complete picture of Christian life valid for all the territories
where Christianity had spread at that time. Most informative are the
sources for N orth Africa, where the leading writers Tertullian and
Cyprian, because of their marked concern with the practical questions of
daily religious life reveal much that is interesting. In addition to these men,
the Alexandrian teachers Clement and Origen must be mentioned, for they
frequently speak of similar features in the Christian daily life of the
Egyptian communities.
Any attempt to estimate objectively the achievements of Christianity in
this domain must indicate very plainly the difficulties that the implemen
tation of Christian moral ideals inevitably met with day after day. First
of all, there were the afflictions to which Christian minorities are liable in
any period of Christian missionary activity when forced to form and
establish themselves in the midst of a pagan environment encompassing
every section of private and public life. A large number of professions and
trades directly served the polytheism of later antiquity and the Christians
had to exclude themselves from these if they were not to imperil their own
religious convictions.116 The whole pagan atmosphere further presented a
perpetual temptation to relapse into former habits of life, and this de
manded of all Christians a renunciation that had to be continually and
precisely renewed in daily life. The sexual licentiousness which character
ized moral life in later antiquity particularly necessitated a very high
degree of self-discipline. This itself created a test case where the Christian
moral ideal had to prove its real quality.
The sources show that precisely in the third century, the Christian com
munities were exposed to searching trials which they did not entirely
withstand. In the longer periods of peace which that age provided, the
poison of the surrounding pagan atmosphere could exercise its slow but
enduring effect. This became terrifyingly evident when a powerful wave
of persecution such as those of Decius and Diocletian broke upon the
Christian communities as exceptional tribulations. The large number of18
118 See page 277 above, in the description of the catechumenate.
3 06
those who lapsed in the years 249-50 revealed a considerable slackening

of Christian self-discipline, a condition which could oppose no decisive
resistance to the tempting amenities of a pagan civilization. The picture
which Cyprian had to draw speaks for itself.11718 Eusebius too, in his
description of the general situation of Christianity before the outbreak of
the Diocletian persecution was forced to indicate many suspicious features.
Among these were especially the slackening of moral discipline and not a
few lamentable quarrels of Church leaders among themselves. The Chris
tians “like so many pagans . . . piled sin upon sin”, and Eusebius was moved
to explain the persecution as a divine judgment.118 What we have to say
about the question of penance will presently show that grave transgressions
by Christians, especially those of a sexual kind, again and again moved
the Church authorities to serious admonition and strict measures regarding
atonement. But despite these undeniable dark shadows in the picture of
general Christian life in the third century, it is indisputable that Chris
tianity succeeded at that time in raising the moral level of the various
churches and communities high above that of the pagan world around them.
Marriage and the Family
This is particularly striking in the matter of marriage and the family. It

is true that Tertullian’s description of the beauty of Christian marriage
is an ideal picture which transfigures reality, but it proves that this ideal
was recognized and that earnest efforts were made to realize it. Ignatius
of Antioch had already recommended that the contracting of matrimony
be sanctioned by the bishop. In Tertullian’s time, too, Christians celebrated
their marriage in the presence of the ecclesia, and had it sealed with a
blessing, although this cannot have signified an actual liturgical rite or an
indispensable participation of the bishop at the marriage in that period.
The inner harmony of such a marriage derived from the common religious
convictions of the two partners, and it drew its strength in good days and
bad from a common sharing in the eucharistic repast.119 As such conditions
could not be present in marriages between Christians and pagans, these were
disapproved of by the Church. Furthermore the Christian party was exposed
all too easily to contact with pagan worship and the accomplishment of
many religious duties and customs of the faith was made difficult by such an
arrangement. When Cyprian lists the abuses in the North African church
which called down the judgment of the Decian persecution, he assigns a
special place to the marriages between Christians and unbelievers, through
117 See above, page 224.

118 Euseb. HE 8, 1, 7-9.
119 Ignatius, A d Polyc. 5; Tertullian, Ad ux. 2, 8.
307
THE INNER CONSOLIDATION OF THE CHURCH
which “the members of Christ were abandoned'to the pagans”. Consequently,

such marriages were expressly forbidden by the Church, and parents who
gave their consent to the marriage of their daughter to a heretic, a Jew, or a
pagan priest, incurred heavy ecclesiastical punishment.120The indissolubility
of Christian marriage which had since St Paul found its deepest ground in
its symbolical representation of the union of Christ and the Church (Eph
5:32; 1 Cor 7:10 ff.), is emphasized by most writers of the third century.121
The Church was also concerned with maintaining the sanctity of matrimony
by preserving conjugal fidelity and reverence for children. Adultery was
strictly punished by ecclesiastical penitiential discipline, any kind of
abortion was proscribed as murder, and the exposing of children after birth
was condemned. It was here that the demands of Christian ethics came into
sharpest conflict with pagan lasciviousness or the Roman legal view, which
regarded only the born child as a human being.122
Within Christian marriage of this kind, the position of the wife was that
of a partner with equal rights, and Christianity thereby showed in principle
a far higher regard for her than most of the pagan religions held at that time.
Second marriages were not looked upon with favour; they were not of
course forbidden as they were among the Montanists, but in accordance
with the trend of the age towards asceticism, they were viewed as
signs of diminished moral effort and even stigmatized by the apologist
Athenagoras as “a respectable adultery”. This opinion is not merely an
isolated one, it corresponded to the Church’s view which, on account of it,
forbade clerics to take part in the celebrations of such marriages and treated
a second marriage as an impediment to the assumption of or continuance in
the clerical state. A third or fourth marriage was very definitely held to be a
serious failure regarding the demands of Christian discipline and excluded
one, as Origen said, from the circle of the perfect.123
Early Christian Works of Mercy
A criterion of the value of Christian ethical principles in daily life is

provided by the way in which the commandment of Christian love for one’s
neighbour is fulfilled. Practical exercise of active charity towards a needy
120 Tertullian, Ad ux. 2, 4-6; Cyprian, De laps. 6; Synod. Illib., canons 15-17; Synod.
Arel. canon 11.
121 Clement of Alexandria, Strom. 2, 23; Origen, In Matth. hom. 14, 16; Tertullian,
Adv. Marc. 4, 34; De pat. 12; De monog. 9.
122 Synod. Illib., canons 14, 47, 64, 70, 78. Athenagoras, Suppl. 35; Tertullian, Apol. 9, 8;
Min. Felix, Oct. 30, 2; Hippolytus, Refut. 9, 12, 25, and cf. F. J. Dolger in AuC, IV
(1934), 23-55.
123 Athenagoras, Suppl. 33; cf. Hermas, Pastor. Mand. 4; Theophilus, Autol. 3, 15;
Clement of Alexandria, Strom. 2, 23; 3, 11; Origen, In Luc. hom. 17, 10; In Ier. hom.
20; In Matth. comm. 14, 22; Synod. Ancyr., can. 19; Neocaes., can. 3 and 17.
308
brother in the faith or towards a pagan afflicted with illness or misfortune

was, in very striking contrast to the corresponding pagan attitude, an
undeniable title of glory in the early Christian Church. One of the earliest
forms of charitable activity was the “agape”, meals in the Christian
community which were intended to strengthen community spirit among
their members of different social rank, but which at the same time provided
the possibility of extending effective material help, in a tactful way, to the
poor and needy within the community. They were held either in the private
dwelling of a well-to-do member of the congregation or in premises
belonging to the church with the bishop presiding — he could also be
represented by a priest or a deacon — and inaugurating the meal with a
prayer said over the gifts that had been brought. The bishop discussed with
those in charge questions concerning the life of the community, and made
sure that the absent sick and widows also received their share of the gifts.
Sometimes the widows were invited separately by a fellow-Christian or
foodstuffs were taken to them in their houses. The abuses that occurred here
and there in connexion with the agape do not lessen the value of these meetings
which, according to Clement of Alexandria, represented an original form
of Christian sociability in marked contrast to pagan custom, and were
intended to prevent social conflicts arising within the churches.124
Tertullian in his Apologeticum gives an instructive glimpse of the
beginning of the third century. There was a sort of common fund for the
voluntary contributions of members and from it the poor were fed, old
people in need looked after, orphans and destitute children cared for,
brethren in prison helped, and those condemned to forced labour in the
mines given support.125 A special kind of early Christian charitable work
was hospitality, taking in and looking after, with warm generosity, brethren
in the faith who were travelling through. This custom was already praised
in apostolic and subapostolic times and was no less esteemed and recom
mended in the third century. Origen made hospitality the theme of two of his
homilies. Cyprian left money with one of his priests to be spent on strangers
in need during his absence. The Syrian Didascalia insistently urges care for
strangers on the bishop, and the Synods of Elvira and Arles stress it too. In
the fourth century there grew from this charitable obligation a comprehensive
organization which established hostels and hospices.126 The impression made
124 Clement of Alexandria, Paed. 2, 1, 4 ff.; Tertullian, Apol. 39, and cf. E. Dekkers,
Tertullianus en de geschiedenis der liturgie (Brussels-Amsterdam 1947), 67-71; Hippoly-
tus, Trad, apost. 26-7 (57-62 Botte); Didasc. 2, 28, 1-3.
125 Apol. 39.
128 Cf. G. Stahlin in ThW V, 1-36 ((piXoêvta). According to Euseb. HE 4, 26, 2,
Melito of Sardes wrote Ilepl <piXol;evta<;. Origen, In Gen. hom. 4 and 5; Cyprian, Ep. 7;
Didasc. 2, 58, 6; Synod, illib., can. 25; Synod. Arel., can. 9. See also Justin, Apol. 67,
6; Tertullian, Ad ux. 2, 4.
309
on pagan circles by this kind of practical charity is confirmed, despite

himself, by Emperor Julian when he wrote that Christianity had been most
lastingly furthered "by philanthropy to strangers and care for the burial
to the dead”. 127 The last-mentioned feature, concern for the worthy burial
of poor brethren in the faith, was felt to be a duty of love, and was specially
praised as something that characterized Christianity as opposed to paganism.
Whenever possible, the dead were buried among their deceased brethren in the
faith, and love was shown them beyond the grave by having the eucharistic
sacrifice offered for them and by being mindful of them at prayer.128
Pre-Constantinian Christianity had, of course, no slave problem in any
sense that would have made it work for the abolition of slavery, but early
Christian charity could not fail to be interested in the lot of the slaves. It
contributed decisively to the improvement of their condition by recognizing
slaves who became Christians as equal brothers and sisters with the rest of
the faithful and by according them complete equality of rights129.
Ecclesiastical offices, including that of bishop, were open to a slave. It did
not detract at all from the reputation of the Shepherd that its author Hermas
had been born a slave.130 Slaves among the martyrs, both men and women,
were held in unqualified esteem; Blandina, for instance, in Lyons and Felicity
in Carthage. Degrading treatment of slaves by Christian masters was
severely censured and, if need be, punished with ecclesiastical penalties. On
the other hand, slaves who patently misunderstood “Christian freedom” and
tried to have their freedom purchased from the common fund of the
community were reminded of the deeper sense of Christian service which
made it possible for them to bear their position for the honour of G od.131
Christian brotherly love had really to prove itself in the times of
extraordinary catastrophes which were not lacking in the third century.
Dionysius of Alexandria sang a paean to the Christian readiness for sacrifice
which distinguished the laity as well as the clergy in Alexandria during an
epidemic about the year 250. Without fear of infection, they had cared for
their sick brethren and given their lives thereby, while the pagans had
avoided their sick relatives and abandoned their dead without burial. When
plague was raging in Carthage, Cyprian summoned his flock by word and
example to organized relief action which did not deny care and attention to
the pagans. And once again the attitude of the Christians contrasted
127 Sozom. HE 5, 15.

128 Aristides, Apol. 15; Tertullian, Apol. 39; Lactantius, Div. instit. 6, 12; Cyprian,
Ep. 67, 6. Tertullian, De monog. 10; De cor, 3; De exhort, cast. 11; Cyprian, Ep. 1
and 12.
129 Tatian, Or. 11; Aristides, Apol. 15; Irenaeus, Adv. haer. 4, 21, 3; Tertullian, De cor.
13; Euseb. De mart. Pal. 11, 1.
130 See the references in E. J. Jonkers in Mnemosyne 10 (1942), 286-302.
131 Synod. Illib., can. 5. — Ignatius, Ad Polyc. 4, 3.
310
honourably with that of their pagan fellow-citizens during an epidemic in

Maximinus Daia’s time, when they cared for the hungry and the sick without
distinction of creed.132
Practical Christian charity also extended to any communities which were
in special need in any of the territories to which Christianity had spread.
They were helped with an impressive, matter-of-fact spontaneity which
reveals a sense of community among the faithful of the whole Church,
and which was shown by no other religious group of the time. The sources
give the strong impression that the conduct of the Roman church was felt
to be exemplary in this regard. Apparently the church of Rome was
immediately ready to give active assistance whenever news was received
of special need in any community no matter how remote. What Dionysius
of Corinth praised in this respect in 170 is also valid for the third century:
"From the beginning it was your custom to do good to all the brethren in
many ways and to send assistance to many communities in towns everywhere.
In this way you have lightened the poverty of the needy, supported the
brethren in the mines and so, like Romans, held fast to a custom handed
down from of old by your fathers. Your blessed bishop Soter not only
maintained this custom but carried it further.” 133For Dionysius of Alexandria
reports about a hundred years later that Rome regularly sent relief to the
churches in Arabia and Syria, and in Cappadocia it was not forgotten in
the days of Basil that the Roman church under Bishop Dionysius (259-69)
sent funds there so that Christian prisoners might be ransomed from pagan
rulers. A remark by Eusebius implies that Rome gave similar help during
the Diocletian persecution also.134 A similar sense of responsibility for other
churches distinguished Cyprian of Carthage; he had a collection made
among his flock for the communities in Numidia and its considerable yield
was employed in caring for their prisoners.135
The practical accomplishment of the tasks imposed by the duties of
brotherly love required, in the bigger communities of the third century, a
certain administrative organization and personnel. Women were increasingly
employed in order to supplement the efforts of deacons who were the
appointed helpers of the bishops in charitable welfare work; they were in
any case indispensable in the care of their own sex. Widows were the ones
first considered for such work; they were regarded as a special order within
the community and held in high regard on account of Timothy 5:3-16. Only
approved women were received — a judgement on this was a task of the
bishop — without consecration and without prescribed vows. They were
182 Euseb. HE 7, 22, 7-10 and 9, 8, 1; Cyprian, De mortal, passim; Pontius, Vita Cypr.
9.
133 Euseb. HE 4, 23, 10; cf. Ignatius, Ad Rom. proem.: ^ 7rpoxa^Y)[x£vv) t5)<; ayaTO)?.
134 Euseb. HE 7, 5, 2; 4, 23, 9; Basil, Ep. 70.
135 Cyprian, Ep. 7(3-79, especially Ep. 62.
311
particularly employed in private pastoral work in the home and in missionary

work among women. They devoted themselves to educating orphans, worked
as nurses, and sometimes undertook the care of those in prison.136 From the
second century onwards, unmarried women were also admitted for such
purposes, and later for them as well as for the widows engaged in charitable
works the title of deaconess was used. When the order of widows and
virgins, through its adoption of an ascetical manner of life, detached itself
more and more from this kind of task, the function of the deaconess became,
especially in Syrian territory, a definite office in the community; she was
now especially concerned in looking after women catechumens and
candidates for baptism, in domestic pastoral work with Christian women
in pagan families, and in caring for sick women. In the fourth century, as a
consequence of the entry of the pagan masses into the Church, the office of
deaconess increased even more in importance and attained its definitive
form and full development.
As the office of deaconess cannot be shown to have existed in the Latin
West before the fourth century, the widows who were already known to
Hermas in Rome as a special order, probably retained the same functions.137
The deliberate creation of an institution so adapted to the talents and
disposition of women is to that extent a praiseworthy original achievement
of the early Christian Church. The benefits it brought caused later centuries
to maintain it in principle even if in ever-different forms.
Christian charitable activity inevitably confronted the Church with a
series of social problems, such as those of property and wealth, labour and
poverty, which obliged her to adopt definite positions. The most detailed
treatment of these is found in Clement of Alexandria, though his views
cannot be taken as those of the Church as a whole. He maintains in principle
the New Testament detachment from property and wealth, though his
estimate of these is not so pessimistic as that of some other Christians. Wealth
in itself does not exclude from the kingdom of heaven, just as poverty alone
cannot guarantee access to it, but Clement is also profoundly convinced of
the serious danger which wealth brings to any Christian. Whether wealth
and property prove a curse to a Christian depends on whether or not he is the
slave of these possessions and makes them the business of his life. Those who
possess inner freedom in regard to them and bear their loss calmly, belong to
the poor in spirit whom the Lord declared to be blessed. A right use is made
of them when they are put to the use of the brethren.138 Hence the high
188 Clement of Alexandria, Paed. 3, 97; Origen, De or. 28, 4; In Luc. hom. 17, 10; In
Is. hom. 6, 3; Euseb. HE 6, 43, 11; Didasc. 3, 1, 2; 3, 21. Tertullian, De virg. vel. 9; Ad.
ux. 1, 7; De exhort, cast. 13.
187 The name "deaconess” occurs for the first time at the Council of Nicaea, canon 19. —
Didasc. 3 12,1-4; Hermas, Past. Vis. 1, 4, 3.
188 Clement of Alexandria, Quis div. salv. passim; Paed. 3, 35; Strom. 2, 22, 4; 4, 31, 1.
312
praise of almsgiving that is found in most writers of the age culminates, as

far as pre-Constantinian times are concerned, in Cyprian’s special treatise
on this subject. Already in the so-called Second Letter of Clement,
almsgiving had been ranked higher than fasting and prayer and with
Cyprian it attains the rank of a means of grace by which the Christian can
atone for daily faults committed after baptism.139 Without doubt the
bishop’s exhortations to benevolence were willingly followed by many
Christians, as is proved by the forms of Christian charitable action which
we have just described. Some in ascetical enthusiasm gave all they had or
distributed their gifts without discretion, so that Origen for example utters
the warning that the situation of anyone in need should be carefully
investigated and appropriate help given.140
For all her welfare work, however, the Church in no way failed to
proclaim the high personal worth of labour and she opposed the view of
antiquity which regarded manual labour as an evil and a bitter necessity,
as a sign of lack of freedom and of slavery. She followed the Jewish and
New Testament pattern in this and emphasized that even simple work was
estimable and was preferable to the idle luxury of many pagans. Church
ordinances simply regarded work as a duty and proclaimed that a Christian
who was capable of working should not receive any relief from the
community.141 It is only with Augustine that deeper reflection on the moral
and religious meaning of labour began and led to the formation of a
Christian ethic of work. The contribution which the Church of the third
century made to the practical solution of the problem of labour was so
comprehensive that it attracted the attention of the pagans. Tertullian
reports how many of them, in light of this, said with ironic disdain, “Look
how they love one another!” 142 What was meant as derision, was in the last
analysis high praise.
The Attitude of Early Christianity to Secular Civilization and Culture
It was in accord with the fundamentally ascetical attitude of early

Christianity that it regarded with marked reserve the amenities of late-
antiquity civilization. Though Tertullian’s rigorism may have gone too far
in its radical rejection of most of civilization’s benefits as the inventions of
pagan demons, even level-headed men condemned pagan luxury. Clement of
Alexandria, for example, repudiated everything that served an exaggerated
139 Clement, A d Cor. 2, 16; Cyprian, De op. et eleem. 1.

140 Cf. Hermas, Pastor. Mand. 4-6; Origen, In Matth. comm. 61.
141 Did. 12, 2-5; Aristides, Apol. 15; Tertullian, De idol. 5, 12; Apol. 41; Clement of
Alexandria, Paed. 3, 11; Didasc. 2, 4, 3.
142 Apol. 39.
313
cultivation of beauty and the body and which degenerated into pleasure
seeking luxury, though he by no means opposed reasonable care for health
and a moderate use of jewellery.143 The great threats to the Christian ideal
of morality represented by pagan entertainments, gladiatorial contests,
theatrical shows, and dances, were deliberately shunned if for no other
reason than their connexion with idolatry, even though this was often no
longer very perceptible. But the discussions which Tertullian and Novatian
had to engage in on the subject show that many Christians found it difficult
to free themselves from their deep-rooted liking for these things.144
The estimate of pagan literature and learning by Christian writers of the
third century is very mixed. The Greeks with some reservations show
themselves far readier than the Latins (excepting Lactantius) to attribute
importance to them. Clement of Alexandria could not concur in the opinion
of those who regarded philosophy as an invention of the devil. He even
accorded to Greek philosophy a providential significance as a preparation
for Christianity, while admitting that some of its representatives, in their
preoccupation with words and style, had let themselves be misled into
losing sight of the relevant content. Philosophical thought, even in
Christianity, can still help to prepare the way for faith. In literature,
Clement sets a positive value on tragedy because it teaches men to raise their
eyes heavenwards.145 Origen, too, felt and expressed open-minded sympathy
with many achievements of secular learning. In his controversy with Celsus
he defended himself against the latter’s accusation that he was illogical in
adducing the testimony of pagan philosophers in favour of the immortality
of the soul; he also contested the assertion that the dialectical method was
rejected by Christians. Origen recognized the importance of secular studies
for Christian instruction, but compared unfavourably the sophistry and
rhetoric of many teachers with the simplicity and conscientiousness of the
evangelists.146 The attitude of Hippolytus was much more reserved. He
explained the rise of heresies by their dependence on Greek philosophies,
though he still gave Greek literature preference over the wisdom of Egypt,
or of Babylon and the Chaldees.147
On the Latin side, Minucius Felix arrived at a radical repudiation of
pagan poetry and literature, the mythological content of which rendered it
unsuitable, he considered, for use in Christian education of young people.
He was just as unwilling to overlook philosophical scepticism in the question148
148 Tertullian, De cor. passim; De cultu fem. passim; Clement of Alexandria, Paed. 2, 8
and 11-12; 3, 2 and 10-11; Min. Felix, Oct. 12, 38; Cyprian, De laps. 6.
144 De spect. passim, especially 1; Novatian, De sped. 2-3.
145 Clement of Alexandria, Strom. 6, 17, 156; 6, 8, 66; 6, 17, 153; 1, 5, 28; 6, 16, 151;
5, 14, 122; Protr. 4, 59.
146 Origen, Contra Cels. 3, 81; 6, 7; 6, 14; 3, 39.
147 Hippolytus, Rejut. I proem.; 10, 5; 10, 34.
314
of knowledge of God, though he passes a favourable judgment on the

endeavours of other thinkers to arrive at a true conception of God.148
Tertullian’s attitude was of a particularly complex nature and was, of course,
expressed with varying intensity and differently based according to his
theme and the moment of writing. In his early apologetic works, the
possibility of attributing some value to philosophical endeavour is at least
indirectly conceded when Tertullian himself quotes the critical works of
pagan philosophers on religion for the purposes of his own argument.149 In
his polemical works of controversy against heresies his judgment on the
value of philosophy is more sceptical; he makes philosophy at least partly
responsible for erroneous doctrine and its theses are only utilizable when
they agree with Christian tru th .150 His practical, ascetical writings then
reveal intense pessimism in his judgment of all pagan literature, which can
make scarcely any contribution to the formation of Christian moral life.
Consequently, the profession of teacher in pagan schools is intolerable for a
Christian; Tertullian could not conceive of anyone teaching something
of which he was not genuinely convinced.151 Here something of the
contradictions in Tertullian’s soul become apparant. He himself possessed
a comprehensive knowledge of pagan literature and learning which he often
placed in a very distinguished manner at the service of his work as a
Christian writer. Yet he contested in an increasingly radical manner, and as
it were despite himself, the idea that these studies possessed any worth
whatsoever for the culture of a Christian. Cyprian, as a man of deeds, only
expressed himself sporadically on these questions; according to him, the
truths of Christian faith have no need of rhetoric; pagan tragedy only
taught immoral behaviour, pagan ethics failed to provide motives for virtue
and dealt with empty words, “but we are philosophers not in words but in
deeds”. 152 Even more incisive in form is the uncompromising rejection of
pagan literature found in the apocryphal writings of the third century that
are attributed to Cyprian. It is only shortly before the turning-point under
Constantine that in Lactantius there is found a Christian writing in Latin
whose regard for the greatness of the past of Rome made possible a more
favourable estimate of its literary achievements. As a former teacher of
rhetoric, he also saw some value in this branch of knowledge, and he found
more in philosophy, which teaches how to distinguish truth and falsity,
even though pagan philosophy had often failed. Cicero remained for him
eloquentiae unicum exemplar, and he esteemed Virgil as the poeta summits
148 Min. Felix, Oct. 23, 1; 23, 8; 38, 5; 20, 1-2; 14, 2; 31, 1.
149 Ad nat. 1, 10; 2, 4-7; 2, 16; Apol. 14, 19, 24, 46-47.
150 De praesc. 7; 43; De resurr. cam. 3; De an. 2.
151 De sped. 30; De pat. 1; De paen. 1; De cor. 10.
152 Ad Don. 2; 8-9; De bono pat. 2-3.
31 5
of Latin literature, but in regard to the theatre he expressed certain

reservations.153
The counterpart to the predominantly unfavourable estimate of pagan
literature and philosophy made by the majority of third-century Christian
writers was their proud awareness that in the the Old Testament, the
Gospels, Epistles and other documents of apostolic tradition, they possessed
an intellectual patrimony far superior to the wisdom of the Greeks. The
works of the apologists and exegetes and the achievements of the writers of
Alexandria and North Africa who professed the Christian faith, represented
in the eyes of their fellow-believers an intellectual life which provided a
perfectly adequate substitute for what they had given up. If Christianity in
the third century was not yet able to develop any systematic and specifically
Christian ideal of culture, it nevertheless laid foundations upon which a
later age could build.
The Early Christian Church and the Pagan State
Of particular interest is the relation which developed in the third century

between the pagan State and the Church. The Christian society became
clearly aware of her growing inner strength and felt herself to be the "great
Church”. This increase in strength within and without was not hidden from
the pagan State either, and it now reckoned with her as a power that
required the adoption of a new attitude. This consciousness existed on both
sides and is most strikingly revealed by Cyprian’s proud remark that the
emperor Decius heard the news of the rebellion of a rival usurper much more
calmly than the announcement of the election of a new Bishop of Rome.154
Both sides considered the relationship afresh and the outcome was of far-
reaching importance for the period that followed. Among the Christians
there was really only one voice at the beginning of the century that expressed
a radical rejection of the Roman State; Hippolytus saw the power of Satan
behind the Roman imperium, he envisioned it as represented by the first
beast in the Apocalypse (13:1 f.) and the fourth beast in Daniel (chapter 7);
in diabolical imitation the Roman empire copied the faithful Christian
people which the Lord had gathered together from all nations and
tongues.155 Such a judgment expresses the overwhelming pressure that
sometimes weighed upon a Christendom fixed within a structure of power
that worshipped its emperor as a god. The position of the Alexandrian
teachers was quite different. Clement was fundamentally loyal to the pagan
168 Div. instit. 1, 1, 9; 3, 13, 17ff.; Epit. 25, 7ff.; on Cicero and Virgil: De opif. 20, 5;
Div. instit. 1, 19, 3.
154 Ep. 55, 9.
155 In Dan. comm. 4, 9 \D e anticbr. 25.
31 6
State when he affirmed the obligation of taxes and military service and
recognized Roman law; if that State persecuted the Church, the hand of
Providence was to be worshipped.1561758 The only limit to this recognition was
set by the cult of the emperor and the idolatry encouraged by the State.
Origen is the first to attempt to cope theoretically with the relation between
the Church and the pagan State. On the basis of Romans 1:13 fT., he derives
the power of the Imperium Romanum from God, who has conferred
judicial authority on it in particular. To the intrusive and insistent question
of how a State authority that came from God could combat the faith and
religion of the Christians, he answered that all the gifts of God can be
abused and that those who held the power of the State would have to render
an account before the judgment-seat of God.157 God’s providence permitted
persecutions but always gave back peace again.158 In principle the Christian
showed loyalty to this State and followed all its laws as long as they did
not stand in contradiction to the clear demands of his faith, as, for instance,
the required recognition of the cult of the emperor did.159 Origen, however,
thought that a special providential mission had been assigned to the Roman
empire; its unity which comprised the civilized world of that time and the
pax Romana effective within it, had according to God’s will smoothed the
way for the Christian mission and so the empire acted, ultimately, in the
service of the faith.160 Tertullian, too, for all his bold defence of the freedom
of the Christian conscience in the face of the Roman State, was profoundly
convinced that it was under the authority of God. As the God of the
Christians is therefore also the God of the emperor, they pray for the
emperor’s well-being and in fact for the continuance of the Roman
Government.161 Tertullian’s positive affirmation of the Roman State, in
principle, is not altered by the frequent reservations he has to express
regarding political activity by Christians. These latter spring from his
conception of a considerable permeation of public life by Satanic influences
which make Christians strangers in this world despite their loyalty as
citizens.162
It is not surprising that with so much recognition in principle of the
authority of the Roman State, contacts in practice between it and the Church
became frequent in the third century. Origen could lecture to the womenfolk
156 Pacd. 2, 14, 1; 3, 91, 3; 2, 117, 2; 3, 91, 2; Strom. 1, 171 and 4, 79, 1.
157 In Rom. comm. 9, 26.
158 Contra Cels. 8, 70. 159 In Rom. comm. 9, 29.
161 Apol. 30; 32; 39. Dionysius of Alexandria also stresses prayer by the Christians for
the emperor: Euseb. HE 7, 1. The prayer pro salute imperatorum is an inheritance from
very early Christian times, cf. L. Biehl, Das liturgische Gebet fur Kaiser und Reich
(Paderborn 1937).
162 De idol. 17; De cor. 13.
317
of the Syrian rulers in Antioch; his correspondence with Emperor Philippus

Arabs is a significant sign of tolerance. At the beginning of the reign of
Valerian many Christians worked in the Roman imperial palace.163*Emperor
Gallienus ordered by rescript that the Christians should be restored their
consecrated places and he forbade further molestation.104 The Christian
community of Antioch could even dare to appeal directly to Caesar Aurelian
for an edict in a lawsuit between itself and the deposed Paul of Samosata.165
All this shows that in the third century the relation between State and
Church cannot in many spheres be regarded as one of hostility nor, from the
point of view of the Church, even as a matter of indifference. A process is
perceptible which may be described as one of gradual mutual approach even
though the Church unmistakably expressed the limits of her recognition
of Roman power. Only twice, under Decius and Diocletian, was this
development harshly interrupted. This occurred because both still believed
in the possibility of a violent solution. How completely their opinions failed
to recognize the signs of the times was shown by the enormously rapid
change after Constantine’s victory. A view of the exhaustive way the
foundations of a reconciliation between Church and State were laid even
in the third century shows that the events following the failure of the
Diocletian persecution were not as revolutionary a turning-point as they
have often been interpreted to be.
C h apter 25
The Holiness of the Christian and his Church
T he faithful of early Christian times had to conduct their religious life on

the foundation of a baptismal spirituality and “preserve the seal of
baptism”. This implied a lofty awareness of the obligation of all the
baptized to holiness in a holy Church. Despite their vivid knowledge of
this duty, and despite all efforts to conform to it, the ideal was never
carried out by all members of the various communities, and the writings
of the apostolic and sub-apostolic age in particular reveal with perfect
clarity that at no period in the young Church was there complete absence
of sin. Paul himself had to excommunicate an incestuous person from the
church at Corinth (1 Cor 5:1-13), and on frequent other occasions had
to reprimand individual members of a community for sinful behaviour
163 Euseb. HE 6, 21, 3-4; 6, 36, 3; 7, 10, 3.

161 Ibid. 7, 13.
165 Ibid. 7, 30, 18-19.
318
THE HOLINESS OF THE CHRISTIAN AND HIS CHURCH
(Eph 4:17-31; 1 Cor 6). The author of the Apocalypse deplored grave
faults in the communities of Asia Minor (Apoc 1-3). Clement of Rome
had to exhort the Corinthian community not only to avoid as possible
dangers but to give up as deplorable realities a whole series of grave
failings such as sedition, covetousness, licentiousness, fraud, and envy.1
Similar or identical sins are implied in the community of Philippi by the
letter of Polycarp of Smyrna, and the so-called Second Letter of Clement.2
About the middle of the second century the Shepherd of Hermas drew a
grave picture of the failure of many Christians of the Roman community,
in which there were adulterers, swindlers, drunkards, covetous people, and
the like.3 Then the third century sources make it plain that with the growth
in size of the individual congregations, the number of those increased
within them who did not succeed in avoiding sin even in its most serious
forms. The ideal of a holy Church all of whose members persevered in
the grace of baptism until death, remained a high aim which was never
achieved.
This undeniable situation created a serious problem for the individual
Christian, the single community, and the Church as a whole. H ad the
Christian who lost baptismal grace forfeited salvation for ever, had he
definitely left the Church, or was there still a way for him to “recover the
(lost) seal of baptism” ?4 Were some sins perhaps of such gravity that no
penance, however strict, could atone for them? Were they unforgivable,
and did they make return to the Church’s society for ever impossible?
The discussions about the possibility of a penance which atones for
sins committed and gives back participation in the life of the ecclesiastical
community, accompany the Church, it might be said, from her very
first hour, and in the third century they reached an almost dramatic
culmination. The struggle for the holiness of Christians and the sanctity
of their Church assumed concentrated form in the question of penance
and, in the controversies about penance, became a factor of the first
importance in the Church’s own life. This is reflected, too, in ecclesiastical
history research. Until now it has not been possible to reach generally
accepted conclusions, since both the complicated condition of the sources
and the close involvement of the problem of penance with the concept
of the Church made objective decision difficult. To understand the
questions regarding penance in the third century, it is necessary to have
an acquaintance with previous developments; a brief sketch of these must,
therefore, be given first.
1 Clement, A d Cor. 1, 3, 13, 30, 35.

2 Polycarp, Ad Phil. 2-3, 5-6, 11; Ps-Clement, Ep. 2, 4.
3 Pastor Sim. 6, 5.
4 Ibid. 8, 6, 3.
319
Jesus’ preaching indubitably demanded an absolutely radical renuncia

tion of evil (Lk 9: 62; 14: 25), and also judged the situation of someone
who has relapsed as graver than that of someone who has not yet been
converted (Mt 13:3ff.). On the other hand, he knew the sinfulness of his
closest followers and did not exclude even the disciples who were unfaith
ful to him from reconciliation and from responsibility for important tasks
in the basileia of God. God’s readiness to forgive a sinner many times, is
the basis for the precept that they must be equally ready to go on
forgiving their brethren (Mt 18:22; 6:12; 7:11). With the conferring of
the power of binding and loosing on the apostles as bearers of authority,
the Church was appointed to pass judgment on the faithful who sinned,
that is to say, to expel them from the community or to free them from
the bond again, and forgive them their sins (Mt 18:15 ff.; Jn 20: 21 ff.).
That authority was given without restriction; no sin was excepted as
unforgivable, and so no sinner was excluded permanently from the Church
unless he hardened himself impenitently in the “sin against the Holy
Spirit” (Mt 12:31 ff.). St Paul acted in accordance with this when he
“delivered to Satan” the incestuous sinner of Corinth, excluded him from
the sacramental company of the faithful, “excommunicated” him (1 Cor
5:3ff.). In accord with such individual measures, Paul expects that
members of the community who have sinned grievously by lewdness and
debauchery will be converted (2 Cor. 12:21). In other New Testament
writings, too, the view prevails that every sinner can obtain forgiveness
again if he does penance (Jas 1:21; 5:19ff.; 2 Pet 3:9; 1 Jn 2:1 ff.). Only
if he refuses penance and atonement does his fault become for him “the
sin unto death” (1 Jn 5:16). The prayer of the sinner, and that of the
community praying for him, open the way to forgiveness (1 Jn 5:14ff.;
Jas 5:14 ff.); the community of the faithful occupies itself with the sinner
who is doing penance, and who makes his confession before it (1 Jn 1:9).5
The Apocalypse admonishes bishops not to tolerate idolatry and licentious
ness in their communities, but also recognizes that God himself can still
bring the worst sinner to penance (Apoc 2:2; 2:14ff.; 2:20-3).
This New Testament conviction of the possibility of penance and
reconciliation of the sinner with God and with the community of the
faithful, also persisted in the sub-apostolic period. Its writers suffer
intensely when they see that the ideal of a society of brethren sanctified
by baptism is thoroughly disgraced by some,6 but they all issue an urgent
summons to penance, which will restore salvation to each.7 By such
penance they meant genuine conversion, that is, renunciation of sin and a
5 See Did. 14, too.

6 Cf. Ps-Clement, Ep. 2, 14, 1.
7 Ibid. 8, 1-3; Ignatius, Ad Philad. 3, 2; 8, 1; Ad Symrn. 9, 1; 1 Clem 7: 4, 5.
320
return to obedience to God’s commandments.8 This is expressed in prayer

of repentance, fasting, and alms-giving,9 and an integral part of it consists
in confession of sinfulness before God and the community of the
brethren.10 In the sub-apostolic period, too, penance was always something
that concerned the community. The authorities attended to ecclesiastical
discipline and excommunicated the obstinate sinner, that is, they excluded
him from participation in religious life and broke off all association with
him “until he did penance”. During the sinner’s “time of excommunica
tion”, the community tried to help him by its impetrative prayers.11 The
judgment as to when the sinner had, through penance, sufficiently atoned
for his fault, was clearly a matter for the Church authorities. Their
favourable judgment brought him pardon and re-incorporation into the
religious life of the ecclesiastical community, which was convinced that
he had thereby obtained pardon also from God.12
Penance in the Shepherd of Hermas

Gaps occur even in the rather occasional remarks regarding penance which
we can find in the writings of the Apostolic Fathers. They give no details
about the duration of penitential excommunication, nor about its enforce
ment and control, nor about the procedures of release and reception. Yet
they clearly reveal the fundamental affirmation of the possibility of
doing penance for all sins without exception. In this context it is difficult
to understand the attitude of some with respect to Hermas, the author of the
Shepherd. They have assigned the author of this mid-second century work
as the first Christian who attempted to break a previously strict practice
of denying any possibility of penance to a Christian who had placed
himself outside the Christian community by grave sins committed after
baptism. Hermas is said to have proclaimed a single opportunity of
penance after baptism, and this has been construed as a display of
Christendom’s deviation from the original ideal of a Church of the saints.
It is further said that the disastrous consequences of Hermas’ proceeding
are not mitigated even by an attitude regarding these possibilities of
penance as an exceptional measure. This is considered to be similar to the
jubilee of the Old Testament, which by its very nature had time limits set
to it. Such an interpretation of the purpose of the Hermas document13
8 Ibid, 56, 1; Ps-Clement, Ep. 2, 8, 4.

9 1 Clement 48, Justin, Dial. 90, 141; Ps-Barnabas, Ep. 19, 10; Ps-Clement, Ep. 2, 16, 14.
10 Did. 14, 1; 4, 17; Ps-Barnabas, Ep. 19, 12.
11 Ibid, 19, 4; Ignatius, Ad Smyrn. 4, 1; 7, 1; Polycarp, A d Phil. 6, 11; 11, 2;
Ps-Clement, Ep. 2, 17, 3; Did. 15, 3.
12 Ignatius, A d Phil. 3, 2; 1 Clem 57: 2.
13 The latest representative of this view was R. Joly in RHR 147 (1955), 35-49, but
321
is certainly favoured to some extent by its literary genre. Hermas chose

the form of an apocalypse in order to preach his conception of penance
in visions and parables; consequently his basic purpose only reveals itself
on closer examination and even this leaves an obscure and contradictory
residue.
Hermas receives the new revelation about penance in his second vision;
his former ideas regarding the question can therefore be gleaned from his
statements that are prior to this event. In the first vision he states without
reservation that his children are written again in the books of life “when
they do penance from the bottom of their hearts” ; yet these had lapsed
from the faith and had denounced their parents as well.14 Only those who
refused penance, or undertook it merely in appearance, could not reckon
on forgiveness.15 The revelation imparted to Hermas receives a new
element with the announcement that the previous possibility of penance has
a time limit set to it; it lasts until a certain day with a single possibility of
penance for sins committed after bapism. The end of the world, heralded
by an imminent persecution16 is approaching and no further chance is
available for subsequent sins. The modification in the time available for
penance is, therefore, given eschatological grounds. In support of the
thesis that Hermas here proclaims, for the first time in the history of the
Church, a fundamentally new possibility of penance after baptism,
reference has been made in the first place to his conversation with the
Shepherd to whom Hermas submits his doubts. Here: “some teachers”
are said to hold the view that only the penance afforded at baptism and
with baptism brings remission (a<p£<nq) of sins and that no further
possibility of penance exists. The “Shepherd” confirms the correctness
of this view; he says that anyone who has received forgiveness of sins
by baptism ought really (eSet) not sin any more; the mercy of God,
however, grants to those who have fallen again through human weakness
a single, last penance.17 Whether these teachers should be regarded as the
spokesmen of a minority inclining to rigorism, or as the representatives
of a catechetical practice which unswervingly proclaimed the ideals of a
baptismal spirituality and the preservation of baptismal grace,18 may
remain an open question. It remains established in any case that a majority,
including Hermas himself, were aware of a possibility of penance
subsequent to baptism. As compared to the repeatedly proclaimed demand
with the notable qualification that Hermas is said to be here opposing a rigorist trend
in the Roman community.
14 Hermas, Past. Vis. 1, 3, 2; 2, 2, 2-4.
15 Past. Vis. 1, 4, 2; Sim. 8, 6, 4; 8, 7, 2; 9, 26, 3.
16 Past. Vis. 2, 2, 5; 2, 3, 4; 3, 5, 5; 3, 8, 8 f.; Sim. 9, 9, 4.
17 Past. Mand. 4, 3, 1-7.
18 Cf. K. Rahner in ZKTh 77 (1955), 398 f.
322
for the realization of the baptismal ideal in daily life it was less emphat
ically stressed and, according to the "Shepherd’s” words, was only to be
preached with great discretion, out of regard for the newly baptized.19
Hermas is obviously disturbed and anxious over the possibility that
penance after baptism might contain some element of uncertainty; it
might, for example, be prevented by some unforeseen circumstance. In the
mind of the faithful its efficacy must have probably seemed less certain
when compared with the radical effect of baptism. The Shepherd’s answer
gives Hermas confidence again, and makes him hope that his children, and
all who are willing to make use of the proffered second chance of penance
will obtain forgiveness even though a time limit is set.20 While Hermas
unquestionably states that there is only one possibility of post-baptismal
penance, the reason given is not that there is simply no more time left for
penance after the proclamation of his revelation. Rather it is explained as
being something that is unrepeatable in principle, probably on the idea
that just as there is only one baptism which confers forgiveness, so there
is only one penance which blots out post-baptismal sins.21 Furthermore,
Hermas is convinced that the penance of someone who has relapsed a
second time could not have been an irrevocable rejection of evil; it could
not therefore have been genuine penance; and God could not have thereby
granted forgiveness. The principle of the singleness of paenitentia secunda
is clearly formulated for the first time by Hermas and remained in force
for a long time.
Among penitential practices for the sinner, Hermas reckons confession
of sins, prayer, fasting, almsgiving, and the humility with which he takes
all these exercises upon himself.22 When the atonement is complete, that
is to say, when it corresponds to the measure of guilt, its double effect
supervenes: it brings forgiveness of sins, and healing, while restoring life
to the soul, the seal of baptism that had been lost.23 Hermas makes it
clear by his image of the tower, which is symbol of the Church, that
penance is not only a matter between God and the sinner, but involves
the Church. The sinners stand outside this tower, some near and others
farther from it.24 Anyone not in the tower is excluded from the community
19 Hermas, Pastor Mand. 4, 3, 3.
20 Past. Vis. 2, 2, 2-3, 4; Mand. 4, 3, 7.
21 Past. Mand. 4, 1, 8; 4, 3, 6; on. this see K. Rahner, op. cit. 405.
22 Past. Vis. 1, 1, 3; 3, 1, 5; 3, 9, 4-6; 3, 10, 6; Sim. 5, 1, 3; 9, 23, 4; Mand. 8, 10.
23 Past. Vis. 2, 4; 1,9; 8, 6, 3.
24 Ibid. 3, 2, 7 and 9; 3, 7, 1-3; 3, 5, 5. It is not possible to conclude, as Grotz
does in Die Entwicklung des Buflstufenwesens in dcr vornicdnischen Kirche (Frei
burg i. Br. 1955), that there are two groups of sinners, one excommunicate, the other
not, though the latter are subjected to ecclesiastical penance; what is decisive is that
they are all outside the tower. The different distances at which they stand from the
tower is an index of their guilt or of their “excommunication-penance.”
323
of the Church; anyone who is no longer taken into the tower is lost. As,
however, it is the Church which excludes, which, in the sense of that time,
excommunicates the adulterer or the man who has relapsed into idolatry,25
all who stand outside the tower are persons who have been so excommuni
cated by her. Reception again into the tower presupposes an examination
on whether the excommunication penance can be regarded as sufficient or
"completed”. Such an examination was, of course, the prerogative of the
Church authorities26 who either kept the sinner back at a “lesser place” 27
or, granting him complete reconciliation, let him back into the tower again,
received him once more into the community of salvation of the Church.
It is to be noted that Hernias’ intention was not to completely describe
the ecclesiastical penance of his time, but rather simply to preach penance.
Tertullian’s Two Views of Penance

The increased membership of the communities, especially in the phase of
intense growth that characterized the latter half of the second century,
involved more frequent cases of failure in Christian life and so heightened
the importance of the question of penance. Even if convinced in principle
that a second penance was not to be refused to such sinners, it was possible
in the practice of penitential discipline to choose stricter or milder forms
according to whether emphasis was placed on the Christian ideal of
holiness or on the Christian motive of mercy. Both tendencies could be
represented in the same community and both are perceptible here and
there in the sources, too. When Dionysius of Corinth, about 170, requires
that all “who repent of some fall, error or even a heresy”, are to be
received again, he not only expresses the generally recognized view, but
also clearly opposes a tendency of another kind.28 A rigoristic trend
emerged in Phrygian Montanism. At first this appeared to be a protest
against the excessively lax view and manner of life of many Christians,
but later revealed itself as an extremist movement whose first prophet
Montanus upheld the thesis: “Potest ecclesia donare delicta, sed non
faciam, ne et alii delinquant.” “The Church can forgive sins, but I shall
not, lest others fall away.” 29 This amounted to demanding that for the
sake of discipline in its communities, the Church should refuse sinners the
possibility of penance, the granting of which she was in principle admitted
to possess. The initial success of Montanism shows that this demand met
25 Hermas, Past. Mand. 4, 1, 8-9.

26 Cf. Past. Vis. 3, 9, 7-10.
27 On this, see K. Rahner, loc. cit. 410-24.
28 Euseb. HE 4, 23, 6.
29 Recorded as an “oracle” of Montanus by Tertullian, De pud. 21, 7.
324
with a certain amount of sympathy, because it was apparently trying

to achieve an uncompromisingly high ideal of holiness. The question of
penance became a prime problem at one stroke when Tertullian by his
adherence to Montanism made this demand his own. He proclaimed it
with all the subtlety of his intellect and the pitiless rigour of his will.
However, as a member of the Catholic community of Carthage, he had
previously expounded the traditional view of the question of penance in
his own work. The twofold position he adopted offers an exceptional
opportunity of investigating the problem more closely through comparison.
When Tertullian wrote his monograph On Penance in the first years of
the third century, the existence of the possibility of a single penance for
the baptized was something of which he had no doubt whatever.30 God
knows the perils to which the Christian is exposed, even after baptism, and
which are due to the malice of the devil. For those who fall victims, God
has “established the second penance in order to open the door to those
who knock, but only once, because it is already the second time, but not
again any more, because the next time is already too late.” 31 As opposed
to this, Tertullian quite unmistakably expresses his real ideal and in
doing so reminds us by the very words he uses of the same attitude in
Hermas. He speaks of the possibility of this penance only against his will
because it might easily mislead some into far too careless an attitude
towards sin.32 Tertullian also clearly reveals that the loss of baptismal
grace was felt to be a very grave failure in the Catholic community, so
that some almost lost the heart to make a new beginning and in a sort
of despair were no longer willing to undertake the second penance. It is
to them that his admonition was addressed: “ It certainly ought to be
hard for us to sin a second time but to do penance a second time ought not
to daunt us.” 33 It is of special importance for judging Tertullian’s later
attitude to observe that in his Catholic days he maintained the universality
of penance and excepted no sin as unforgivable. Moreover, only grave
sins are in question as matter for penance — penance is of course intended
to restore the lost grace of baptism34 — and he names a few incidentally,
not in the sense of an exhaustive catalogue or list, such as “to succumb to
carnal lust or the allurements of the world, to deny the faith for fear of
the secular power, to stray from the right path as the result of false
teachings”. 35 In another passage he mentions lust (stuprum), eating of
idol-offerings, and heresy (perversa docere).za
80 The chapters 7-12 in De paen. deal with them together.

81 De paen. 7, 10. 82 Ibid. 7, 2. 88 Ibid. 7, 12. 84 Ibid. 7, 11. 85 Ibid. 7, 9.
86 Ibid. 8, 1. Other sins of course are matter for penance in Tertullian’s view and he
mentions them on occasion as grave transgressions in other works. See K. Rahner,
Festschr. K. Adam (1952), 141—4.
325
A radical change in Tertullian’s view about penance is revealed in De

pudicitia, a later open polemic in which he now denies the Church any
right to forgive grave sins and reserves this to the spirituals of the
Montanist movement which he had joined in the meantime. In the very
introduction a Catholic bishop is sharply attacked for publishing a definite
edict saying “I also forgive the sins of adultery and fornication for those
who have done penance.” 37 It was tempting to see in this bishop the then
leader of the Roman community, because the expression pontifex maximus
and episcopus episcoporum, by which Tertullian refers to him, at first sight
seemed to point to Rome. But the alleged identification of the bishop under
attack with Callistus or Zephyrinus of Rome cannot be maintained because
Tertullian himself excludes it by saying later that this bishop presumptu
ously asserted that the power granted to Peter of binding and loosing had
passed to every church, “which is related to Peter” . That can only mean
that Tertullian’s opponent was a (North African) bishop who saw the
power of binding and loosing present in every church that was in
communion with Peter.38 This interpretation gains considerably in weight
from a remark of Cyprian’s that some African bishops had earlier refused
penance to adulterers;39 Tertullian’s African opponent was defending the
view opposed to theirs.40
By praising himself for his unashamed renunciation of his earlier error,
namely the Catholic teaching,41 Tertullian himself says with all desirable
clarity that the attitude expressed in De pudicitia regarding penance
represents something new. This obliged him, it is true, to reinterpret his
earlier scriptural proofs of the universality of ecclesiastical penance by a
display of what can only be called exegetical acrobatics. What is fun
damentally new is his division of sins into remissible and irremissible,
among which those of idolatry, adultery, and murder play a special part.
It is not really admissible to speak of a triad of capital sins in Tertullian,
for he mentions other unforgivable sins as well as the three above named,42
even though he tried to adduce special reasons for these three from the
decalogue and the apostolic decree in Acts.43 To prove the irremissibility
37 De pud. 1, 6.
38 De pud. 21, 9. The attempts of K. Stockius, “Ecclesia Petri propinqua” in AkathKR
117 (1937), 24-126, and of W. Koehler, Omnis ecclesia Petri propinqua (Heidelberg
1938), to show that Tertullian meant the Roman Church here, must be considered to
have failed; cf. C. B. Daly, Studia patristica, III (Berlin 1961), 176-82.
39 Ep. 55, 21.
40 In view of Tertullian’s liking for employing literary fictions in his controversies,
it is not impossible that the episcopus episcoporum is not intended to designate some
particular bishop but to represent all the bishops of North Africa who took up the
attitude which Tertullian was attacking; cf. A. Ehrhard, Kirche der Mdrtyrer, 366 ff.
41 De pud. 1, 10-13.
42 De pud. 9, 9; 19, 25; Adv. Marc. 4, 9. 43 De pud. 5 and 12.
326
of certain sins by the Church, Tertullian appeals to the fact that they
would not be forgiven by God either,44 but he has to contradict himself by
saying, in another passage, that forgiveness of these sins must be left to
God.45 It is not that the three capital sins were treated as unforgivable
in the Church’s penitential discipline before Tertullian’s Montanist period,
for in that case he could not have passed them over in silence in his work
De paenitentia. The triad is rather to be considered a construction of
Tertullian which he thought to use effectively in his polemical writings
against the Catholic Church.
In his monograph on penance and in some parts of the Montanist
polemic, Tertullian becomes the first Christian writer to provide enough
detail about the penitential procedure for a clear picture of its operation
to be obtained. The first stage was an external action that Tertullian
liked to call by the Greek term exhomologesis, confession.46 The sinner
had openly to admit (publicatio sui) that he was in a condition that
forced him to perform the official penance. How this public confession
was actually carried out in fact is not really clear. When penance for
notorious faults was involved, the summons to do penance probably
came from the church authorities themselves, who in particularly serious
cases could on their own initiative inflict exclusion from the ecclesiastical
community, that is, excommunication. The question is more difficult in
regard to secret grievous sins, for which the same duty of penance certainly
existed as for those publicly known.47 Various considerations suggest that,
in this case, the sinner himself spoke to the leader of the community.
For, in the first place, he himself might be in doubt whether his sin
necessitated his doing penance at all. Then, too, the gravity of the works
of penance which was required, and particularly their duration, depended
on the gravity of the sins committed; their allocation presupposes adequate
confession by the sinner to the church authority. This explains Tertullian’s
emphatic admonition to undertake penance whatever the very under
standable obstacles in the soul; for after all it was better for the sinner to
be publicly absolved than to remain hidden in damnation.48
Performance of public penance began with exclusion from participation
in the eucharistic service and the prayer of the community; the penitent
now no longer possessed communicatio ecclesiastical This act, which
belonged to the head of the community, was not identical with the present
canonical procedure of excommunication. It consisted rather of installation
in the status of penitent, who thereby stood "outside the church” (extra
44 Ibid. 17, 8. 45 Ibid. 19, 6. 46 De paen. 9, 1, 5 etc.

47 Ibid. 10, 8.
48 Ibid. 10-12, especially 10, 8: “an melius est damnatum latere quam palam absolvi?”
49 Apolog. 39; De pud. 18, 2.
327
ecclesiam stare).50 The sinner could prepare for the beginning of public
penance by private works of penance. Tertullian is the first to speak of
these in some detail;51 in addition to continual prayer in a contrite frame
of mind, he mentions fasting intended to increase the efficacy of that
prayer, the wearing of sackcloth and ashes as an expression of a penitential
spirit, and restrictions in care for the body. The sinner performed public
penance in two stages. First he stood at the entrance to the church (pro
foribus ecclesiae or in vestibulo), probably in penitential clothes; clerics
and laity passed by him and on his knees he asked for the help of their
prayers and for readmittance into their society.52 The second stage restored
entry to the inside of the church itself, where the penitent again had to
implore the impetratory prayer of the congregation and the restoration of
his former membership.53 Such penance extended over a considerable space
of time, which varied according to the gravity of the fault, and probably
according to the contrite attitude of the penitent; lifelong penance does not
seem to have been imposed in Tertullian’s time.54
To the first act of excommunication at the beginning of the penance
there corresponded the act of reconciliation at the end through which
the bishop granted pardon (venia) and "restoration” (restitutio). The out
ward form in which this took place cannot be clearly gathered from
Tertullian, but most probably it corresponded to the rite customary in
Cyprian’s time: imposition of hands in conjunction with a prayer.65
Although Tertullian does not go into detail about the act of reconciliation
performed by the bishop until the De pudicitia, this certainly existed
already in his pre-Montanist days. A second penance intended to restore
the grace of baptism56 loses its meaning if there is not at the end of it
a recognizable concluding action which incorporates the penitent into the
community again, granting him what he has requested so imploringly.
That this act was definitely performed by the bishop of the community is
demonstrated in the fact of Tertullian’s polemic against the bishop of the
Catholic Church who claimed to pardon sins of adultery. But the
community, too, was drawn into the process of reconciliation by its
impetratory prayer for the penitent, which can certainly be understood
in a deeper sense of collaboration. The absolution and reception again of
a sinner into the sacramental community can be felt as a special concern
of the Christ-society, without any claim being made thereby to share the60
60 De pud. 1, 21.
51 De paen. 9-10.
52 De pud. 1, 21; 9, 4 and 6; 4, 5; 7,10; De paen. 10, 5-6.
53 De pud. 13, 7; 18, 13.
54 De paen. 7, 11; 12, 7.
55 Cyprian, De laps. 16; Ep. 15, 1; 16, 2; 18, 1; 20, 3 etc.
58 De paen. 7, 11; and on this, see K. Rahner, Festschrift K. Adam (1952), 149 ff.
328
sacramental authority of the bishop. 57 The reconciliation pronounced and

accomplished by the bishop gave back to the former sinner pax with his
Church , 58 and conferred and guaranteed at the same time, reconciliation
with God, just as baptism as first penance blotted out sins and gave the
grace of being a child of God . 59 This reconciliation was guaranteed on the
one hand by the power of the impetratory prayer of the Church, which
is at the same time the prayer of Christ, and therefore infallible, and on
the other hand, it was vouched for by the authority of the Church to
forgive sins as God’s representative. In respect to this last assurance, appeal
was made on the Catholic side to Matthew 18:18.60 Immoderate and
lacking in objectivity as the Montanist Tertullian’s controversy about
penance and penitential discipline was in regard to the Catholic Church,
it nevertheless had positive effects. It caused the Catholics to rethink the
biblical and theological foundations of the customary practice of penance
and very likely prompted a more precise formulation of these in their
preaching. Tertullian was not able to win a large or lasting following in
Carthage and N orth Africa.
More serious consequences for ecclesiastical unity seemed at first to
portend from a controversy about the practice of penance that broke out
almost at the same time in Rome. In this dispute the learned priest
Hippolytus sharply opposed the Roman bishop Callistus (217-22) and it
is clear that it had no intrinsic connexion with the African disputes.
Hippolytus here appears as the representative of a rigorist trend such as
had perhaps already existed in the Rome of Hermas’ time. H e accused
Callistus of general laxity in administering ecclesiastical discipline and
alleged a few examples. Callistus allowed a bishop to remain in office
even if he were guilty of grave offences; all clerical appointments were
open to men who had married twice or even three times; clerics who
married were not guilty of sin; and finally Callistus declared that marriages
between free women and men of lower rank, not excluding slaves, were
valid, although these were forbidden by Roman law. Hippolytus summed
up his indictment in the reproach that even as the member of a sect he
would be free from charge for his sins, provided he joined the “school of
Callistus” . 61 It is evident that the actual question of penance was not at
issue here. Callistus issued no regulation introducing innovations in
penitential practice or even any conceding for the first time in contrast to
earlier custom the possibility of penance for adulterers. It certainly was
67 K. Rahner, ibid. 152-4.

58 De pud. 1, 21; 12, 11 (pax); 3, 5; 15, 5 (communicatio).
59 De paen. 7, 14; 10, 8; De pud. 2, 15; 3, 1-3 etc.
®° De paen. 10, 6ff.; De pud. 5, 14. — De pud. 1, 6; 21, 9.
61 Hippolytus, Refut. 9, 12 (the whole chapter).
329
neither a matter of remissible and irremissible sins nor one of the Church’s
authority to forgive sins, as it was with Tertullian. Callistus plainly held
to the general customary doctrine and practice of penance which based
the view that there are good and bad in the Church on the parable of
the tares among the wheat. Hippolytus himself admitted that Callistus had
the majority of the Catholics of Rome on his side. And even Hippolytus
himself cannot be described as an adherent of the opinion that some sinners
cannot be forgiven; perhaps he was only demanding stricter and perhaps
even lifelong penance for some offences. In fact, if the author of the
Philosophoumena is identical with the Hippolytus of the Apostolic
Tradition, he conceded in principle that a bishop had authority to absolve
from every sin. 62 And the practice of reconciling a heretic after he had
performed public penance, was already in existence even under Callistus’
predecessor Zephyrinus (199-217). This is proved by the account handed
down by Eusebius regarding the confessor of the faith, Natalis, who after
rigorous penance was received once more into the community of the
Church by the Roman bishop. 63 Hippolytus’ followers were only a
minority which formed a “school” of their own in Rome, but with
apparently no adherents outside the city and which disintegrated when
Hippolytus died, if it had not done so already.
Penitential Discipline in North Africa in Cyprian’s Time
Renewed discussion of the question of penance in North Africa and

subsequently in Rome was occasioned by the course taken by the Decian
persecution which was so deplorable for the Church as a whole. By the
end of it, the large numbers of lapsed forced the Church’s leaders to
review the previous penitential practice, at least in certain respects. This
phase of early Christian controversies about penance is of the greatest
consequences for the history of the Church, because it substantially
threatened ecclesiastical unity and led in actual fact to divisions which
culminated in the extensive anti-Church of the Novatians.
Bishop Cyprian of Carthage saw himself faced with a new situation
when news came to him where he was hiding from the pagan authorities,
not only of the large numbers who had lapsed during the persecution, but
also about a serious breach of the penitential discipline which had pre
viously been under his own firm control. Some priests were receiving into
the Church again those who had fallen, without requiring any work of
penance from them at all. Many of the lapsed produced “letters of peace”
(libelli pads), which had been issued to them by martyrs before their death.
62 See the prayer of consecration of the bishop in Trad, apost. 3.

«3 Euseb. HE 5, 28, 8-12.
330
or by confessors of the faith, and in which prompt or immediate granting

of their readmission to the community of the Church was recommended.
Cyprian at once forbade his priests under pain of deprivation of office,
to receive the lapsed again; he informed the confessors that he could only
regard their letters of peace as a recommendation to the Church authorities;
they did not represent an ecclesiastical decision having force of law. When
more news arrived about growing unrest in his flock, he gave his clergy
instructions to grant ecclesiastical pax at once to lapsed persons who were
on their death-bed, if they could produce letters of peace from martyrs,
but to other dying persons only if they had previously given proofs of
genuine willingness to do penance; he would make further regulations
for the rest of the lapsed after his return to Carthage . 64 Some of the lapsed
immediately accepted these measures of Cyprian and declared themselves
willing to do penance, although they were in possession of letters of peace.
Others, however, revolted and wrote to Cyprian that they had already
been given back their peace with the Church by a martyr. Cyprian
ironically described these proceedings by saying that the lapsed behaved
as though they were the Church 65 and it was his place to graciously
request from them their admission into the Church. A cleric called
Felicissimus soon put himself at the head of this group. In Cyprian’s
absence and without his knowledge he had been appointed deacon of the
Carthaginian community by the priest Novatus. He was joined by a few
other clerics who were already opposed to Cyprian on other grounds. They
won over a considerable part of the community, regarded themselves as
the rightful Catholic community of Carthage, and developed an intense
propaganda against Cyprian . 66
This was the situation that Cyprian met when he returned to Carthage
at Easter in 251. He soon published his work On the Lapsed, which gives
an instructive description of the general situation of the North African
Church before and after the Decian persecution. In this work Cyprian
once again expounded his standpoint in the matter of penance; he opposed
strongly the lax practice of his opponents and demanded serious and
comprehensive penance from the lapsed as a condition for their reception67.
The opposition group now provided themselves with their own episcopal
leader in the person of the priest Fortunatus and also endeavoured,
through a delegation to Rome, to obtain recognition from Pope Cornelius.
The latter, however, repulsed them and informed Cyprian of his attitude68.
64 Cyprian, Ep. 1; 15; 16; 18 and 19.

85 Ep. 33 and 35, especially 33,1.
68 Ibid., 41, 1 ff.; 42 and 43, 1-7; 52, 3.
87 De laps. 15 and 16.
88 Ep. 59, 1, 9, 16.
331
Cyprian’s energy soon succeeded in ensuring that the ecclesiastical

authorities would alone handle the penitential discipline for the lapsed.
At a synod summoned by him and attended by numerous African bishops
in the year 251, serious penance was unanimously required from all the
lapsed, but with special treatment prescribed for the libellatici and the
sacrificati; the former could quickly obtain the pax after a careful
examination of each individual case; the sacrificati, however, who had
been guilty of downright denial of their faith by a complete performance
of the pagan sacrifice, were only to be received again when in danger of
death. But anyone who thus far had not shown himself ready to undertake
penance should be excluded from peace with the Church even when in
danger of death, because clearly no will to do penance was present at all.
Cyprian justified the milder treatment of the libellatici by the much lesser
gravity of their offence. 69
When a new persecution threatened under Emperor Gallus and seemed
likely to surpass the Decian persecution in intensity, a second synod in
Carthage in 252 again dealt with penitenial discipline for the lapsed. It
was decided, in view of the grave situation, to concede to all the lapsed
admission to the peace of the Church if they had begun their works of
penance from the very day they lapsed. This decision was justified by the
considerations: that peacetime practice could not be maintained now, that
all now needed strengthening by the Church, and that it was impossible
to debar from the Blood of Christ those who were expected and required
to shed their blood for Christ. It was indicated that only those were
capable of accepting martyrdom whom the Church had armed for that
struggle, and that the Holy Spirit could only speak through those who
had received the Spirit of the Father through peace with the Church . 70
As the persecution of Gallus, however, did not assume the proportions
that had been feared, the argument about penance for the lapsi was settled
by the victory of Cyprian’s views, which the North African bishops made
their own. The opposition group round Felicissimus and Fortunatus like
wise lost its importance, so that soon after the Second Synod of Carthage,
peace was to all intents and purposes restored in Cyprian’s community.
This sketch of the course of the N orth African dispute about penance
shows clearly that discussion extended to two definite questions: first
whether the restoration of peace with the Church was possible without
performance of works of penance, and secondly, if a decision about it
belonged to the Church’s leaders or whether a testimonial from martyrs
or confessors of the faith possessed binding force over ecclesiastical
authority. Cyprian’s opponents advocated a relaxation or even abolition
89 Cf. the account of this to Bishop Antonianus, Ep. 55, 6; 55, 13-16; 55, 23.
70 Ibid. 57.
332
of the previous stricter practice and, as opposed to this, Cyprian defended

the maintenance of a full performance of penance and its control by church
authority. His attitude in no respect reveals any break with an earlier
severer practice of a kind which rejected the possibility of atonement by
public canonical penance for the sin of apostasy; in other words the
remissibility or the irremissibility of this sin was not the subject of this
controversy at all. The possibility of admission to penance, or of definitive
reception into the church community again, was in fact presupposed by
both parties. After initial hesitation, Cyprian allowed himself to be won
over to a milder handling of penitential practice on one point only: he
was persuaded to grant reconciliation to the dying even though they had
not yet carried out the customary penance, the only qualifying condition
being the possession of a letter of peace from a martyr or a confessor of
the faith . 71
As regards the outer form of the institution or liturgy of penance, the
following can be gathered from Cyprian’s writings. The first act was the
paenitentiam agere or satisfacere of the sinner, his works of penance, that
is, prayer, fasting, wearing penitential clothes, almsgiving, and other such
works of self-denial. 72 But these acts were not placed at the private
discretion of the penitent; they were carried out with the knowledge of
the Church who supported them with her prayer and determined their
duration . 73 The second stage was the exhomologesis, the part of the
penance which took place in the presence of the community. It consisted
in the request of the penitent to the bishop, clergy, and congregation,
that they should receive him back into the community of the Church and
grant him reconciliation. 74* Whether this happened only once or more
often, cannot be determined with certainty. It nevertheless presupposed
a non-public admission of guilt to the head of the community (the bishop),
which Cyprian terms confessio.75 Cyprian’s exhomologesis is misunderstood
when it is regarded as special form of penance. The “real ecclesiastical
penance” was different from excommunication penance or “full penance”
and is said to have developed from the exhomologesis.™ The third and
final act was reconciliation proper and took place through imposition of
hands by the bishop. It is first mentioned for the Latin church by Cyprian
but it was a long-established rite and one that was, of course, in use even
earlier in the East. 77 The bishop accomplished the act of reconciliation
71 Ep. 8, 3; 30, 8; 18, 1; 29, 2; 20, 3. — Ep. 55, 6; 57, 1; 64, 1.

72 De laps. 24, 30, 35. 73 Ibid. 32; Ep. 4, 4.
74 Ep. 15, 1; 16, 1; 19, 2; 20, 3.
75 De laps. 28, 29; Ep. 55, 17, 19.
76 J. Grotz, for example, in Die Entwicklung des Buflstufenwesens in dcr vornicaniscben
Kirche (Freiburg i. Br. 1955); against this view, S. Hiibner in ZKTh 84 (1962), 171-95.
77 Cyprian, Ep. 16, 2; Origen, In Lev. hom. 2, 4; Didasc. 2, 18, 7; 43, 1.
333
by reason of the power of binding and loosing committed to him . 78 The

community took part in the judgment which decided whether reconcili
ation was to be granted, but no details are given about this collaboration.
Reconciliation, when accomplished, restored to the penitent communicatio
with the Church, he again received the pax ecclesiae. 79 He was thereby
permitted to take part once more in the eucharistic service and to receive
the Eucharist. 80 Furthermore Cyprian was convinced that the pax accorded
by the Church was also ultimately significant for salvation, for by it the
former penitent was again incorporated into the community of the Church
in which alone it is possible to work out one’s salvation . 81
The Roman Controversy on Penance and the Schism of Novatian
While Cyprian had to oppose a tendency to laxity in the imposition of

penance on the part of his own clergy in North Africa, Rome was faced
about the middle of the century, by a rigorist movement which derived
particularly effective and dangerous impetus from the personality of
the man who led it and gave to it theological foundation. In striking
similarity to Tertullian, the Roman priest Novatian also originally upheld
the traditional teaching on penance but soon proclaimed an extremely
rigoristic view though for reasons different than those which motivated
the African. In particular he rejected any reception of the lapsed into
the Church’s community as incompatible with her holiness. The Roman
attitude on the reconciliation of the lapsed was expressed even before
Novatian’s time in a letter which some priests of that church had addressed
to Cyprian; they had demanded even more definitely than the African
bishop that sick persons among the lapsed who repented of their fault
and desired reconciliation should be “helped” . 82 This view was at first
held by Novatian, too. As secretary of the Roman college of priests while
the see was vacant in the years 250-1, he had had to deal with corres
pondence to churches abroad, and his elegant pen was able to express it
eloquently and attractively. When (he wrote to Cyprian) humanly
speaking, the death of one of the lapsed seemed imminent, he should
with appropriate prudence be “helped”, provided he had already per
formed works of penance publicly, had repeatedly expressed abhorrence
for his defection and had demonstrated his sorrow by his tears. 83 There
was agreement between Rome and Carthage on another point, too. Just
as Cyprian was to undertake a definite settlement of the question of
penance upon his return to Carthage, so too a final decision would be
78 Cyprian, Ep. 57, 1. 79 Ibid. 64, 1. 60 Ibid. 4, 4; 16, 2; 18, 1; 55, 29.
81 Ibid. 73, 21; 74, 7; De eccl. unit. 6.
82 Cyprian, Ep. 8, 3. 83 Ibid. 30, 8.
334
given in Rome when the community again had a bishop. In connexion

with this, a principle of Roman practice in questions of law and faith
which was to play an outstanding part in the dispute about heretical
baptism and later on, was here formulated for the first time: nihil innovan-
dum, they would hold fast to tradition . 84 This letter of Novatian’s also
contains an interesting detail in that the Roman confessors of the faith
unlike their friends in Carthage, refused to issue letters of peace to the
lapsed, and were resolute opponents of any relaxation of previous practice
in ecclesiastical discipline; they consequently disapproved the vehement
demand of the African lapsi for immediate reconciliation. To grant it to
them too quickly would be to act like a doctor who only closes a wound
without giving it time to heal and so only makes the illness worse. 85
When Novatian also observes that the apostasy had assumed such
proportions in the whole Church that a final settlement ought only to
be made by common consultation of bishops, priests, deacons, and the
laity who had stood firm, he seemed to have a Roman synod in mind . 86
A further letter to Cyprian, the style of which likewise identifies
Novatian as the author, sharply criticized the lapsed in Carthage who
were not willing to wait for Cyprian’s* return and who despite their
serious offence, demanded the pax with the Church and even asserted
it had already been granted them by heaven. It was high time the letter
states that they did true penance, proved the genuineness of their
contrition, and brought down God’s mercy on themselves by humble
submission. 87 Neither of Novatian’s two letters justifies the view that in
the Roman church until then, no forgiveness had been granted for the sin
of denial of the faith; on the contrary, reception of the lapsed into the
Church is also presupposed by Novatian when he says at one point that
prayer should be made that the penance of the lapsed might obtain
forgiveness for them and at another point, that a humble attitude on the
part of the fallen would facilitate their request for readmission. 88 Two
observations still spring to the mind of one who reads the masterly
formulation provided in these two letters of Novatian. Whilst merciful
love is always perceptible in Cyprian’s whole outlook on the fallen, it is
quite lacking in Novatian; he is cold, almost harsh towards them and
appeals with an undertone of pride to the glorious Roman tradition . 89
It is also difficult to avoid the impression that his suggestion that a
settlement of the whole question of penance for the lapsed could only be
undertaken after the election of a new Roman bishop, was not given
without a certain reservation. Was he perhaps to be the man to whom
this task would fall?
84 Ibid. 85 Ibid. 30, 2 and 3. 86 Ibid. 30, 5. 87 Ibid. 36, 1-3.

88 Ibid. 30, 6; 36, 3. 89 Ep. 30, 2.
335
The change in Novatian’s attitude on penance occurred when the election

of a successor to Pope Fabian, possible with the end of the Decian
persecution, elevated not him but Cornelius as Bishop of Rome. The
picture that Cornelius draws of his opponent in a letter to Fabius of
Antioch 00 is certainly distorted by personal resentment, but it is confirmed
in many factual details by the correspondence of Cyprian, who was level
headed and not easily given to exaggeration, and by other sources.
Novatian had himself set up as a rival bishop in Rome with the assistance
of the priest Novatus from Carthage 91 and tried to win more supporters
with the slogan that the readmission of the lapsed into communion with
the Church was to be refused on principle. A Roman synod of sixty
bishops and numerous other clerics excommunicated Novatian and
confirmed by synodal decree the previous Roman practice of admitting
apostates to penance. 92 Novatian, however, immediately set about building
an opposition church everywhere in East and West. He moved energetically
and with undeniable skill in propaganda, taking the organization of the
universal Church as a model. 93 In Rome and Italy the success of his
endeavours was certainly small, for the prompt action of Cornelius in
calling the Roman synod clarified the situation. According to Cornelius’
ironical account, Novatian adjured and implored his followers to remain
faithful to him, even when he was administering the Eucharist to them,
but their numbers continued to shrink. 94 His propaganda took no root in
North Africa either, because Cyprian had the situation well in hand there
and probably also because the conversion of the leader of the lax party,
Novatus, to the opposite camp did not particularly recommend the
Novatian movement. Nevertheless, Novatian’s letters designed to win
over African bishops actually had a certain effect, as the case of Bishop
Antonianus shows. He had resisted Novatian from the start, but when
he received a letter from him, became hesitant nevertheless and turned
to Cyprian for enlightenment. Cyprian’s answer is available in a long
letter that develops his whole conception of the doctrine of penance. 95
Cyprian also gave Pope Cornelius his support in the struggle against
Novatianism by a brisk exchange of letters with Rome and succeeded in
inducing some of Novatian’s followers to rejoin the legitimate bishop of
Rome. 98
In other regions the successes of Novatian propaganda were more con
siderable. In Gaul, Bishop Marcian of Arles joined the movement and
pitilessly refused reconciliation to the lapsed, even on their death-bed, so
80 Euseb. HE 6, 43, 5 ff. 8081 Cyprian, Ep. 52, 2. 82* Euseb. HE 6, 43, 2.
83 According to Cyprian, Ep. 73, 2, he imitated this.
84 Euseb. HE 6, 43, 18, 19.
85 Ep. 55, which has already been quoted several times.
86 Ep. 44-54.
336
that many of them died in despair. Cyprian took up the case and requested
Pope Stephen (254-7) in a special letter, to excommunicate Marcian and
to give the church in Southern Gaul a new leader. 97 Signs of Novatian
infiltration into Spain also exist but were not really perceptible until later.
Bishop Pacian of Barcelona (f before 329), still remembered a document
shown to him by a Novatian, Simpronianus, containing the assertions,
“After baptism there is no penance any more; the Church cannot forgive
any mortal sin and she destroys herself when she admits sinners.” 98 That
might very well be a sequel to the Novatian doctrine of penance. This
likelihood is increased by the many decrees of the Synod of Elvira, which
by their rigorist tendency show a sympathy of this kind existing very
early in Spain.
What influence Novatian and his doctrine had on many distant
communities in the East is notable; it found supporters particularly in
Syria and Palestine, in the Asia Minor provinces of Bithynia, Phrygia,
Cappadocia, Pontus, Cicilia, and even in Armenia and Mesopotamia.
Novatian took part personally in propaganda in the East by writing
letters to leading bishops. There is for instance a letter to Dionysius of
Alexandria, in which he seeks to justify his step in founding a church of
his own. Dionysius’ reply to Novatian has been preserved. The Bishop of
Alexandria adjures him insistently to desist from his project, to urge his
followers to return to Catholic unity and so at least to save his own
soul. 99 A particular danger of the inroad of Novatian influence existed in
Fabius of Antioch who had a tendency to rigorist views and consequently
“was rather inclined to schism” as Eusebius put it. Dionysius of Alexandria,
however, succeeded in keeping him to the traditional conception by
expounding the doctrine of penance in detail and by providing examples
from real life which showed the longing of the lapsed for reconciliation. 100
Eusebius transmits a few valuable indications about the extent of Dionysius’
correspondence for he still had access to it . 101 From one of these letters
it appeared that Novatian’s schism threatened so strongly to consolidate
itself in the East that the leading bishops in Cicilia, Cappadocia, and
Palestine wanted to discuss the whole question in a synod at Antioch and
had invited Dionysius to it . 102 The latter contributed substantially, by his
vigorous work of making the issues clear through letter-writing, to halting
the Novatian movement. But he was certainly mistaken about the measure
of his success when he later reported to Pope Stephen that peace was
restored to the Church in the East, that “the innovation of Novatus”
(= Novatian) had been “rejected”, and that there was everywhere great
97 Ep. 68, 1-3.

98 Pacianus, Ep. ad Sympronianum 3, 1.
99 In Euseb. HE 6, 45. 100 Ibid. 6, 44, 1-6. 101 Ibid. 6, 44-6. 102 Ibid. 6, 43, 3.
337
joy over the restoration of unity.103 Novatianism still persisted for a long
time in the East, even if only in small sectarian communities which went
further than the rigorism of their first founder and pretentiously called
themselves Cathars, the church of the pure.104
Doctrine and Practice of Penance in the East in the Third Century

A sketch of the doctrine and practice of penance current in the eastern
regions to which Christianity had spread, may well begin with a reference
to Irenaeus of Lyons, who came from Asia Minor. He, too, was one of
those who still represented the strict ideal of holiness inherited from the
beginnings of the Church, and who would have refused readmission into
the Church to those who had incurred the guilt of serious offences. 105
Irenaeus himself was particularly imbued with the thought that the likeness
to God given to man by redemption, obliges him to a perfectly holy and
sinless life. 106 Because Christians had been given such high graces, they
must be subjected to a much stricter judgment than the men of the Old
Testament, and consequently, after their baptism, ought to be on their
guard against any sin, because the death of Christ is not efficacious for
them a second time. 107 On the question whether there is any salvation at
all for a sinner after baptism, Irenaeus makes no pronouncement, but on
another occasion he expresses perfectly clearly the possibility of such
penance; he believes that God gives his peace and friendship to those
“who do penance and are converted” ; only those who persist in apostasy
impenitently are eternally lost. 108 Particularly important is a remark in
the so-called “rule of faith” of Irenaeus (Adv. haer. 1,10,1), that summary
of ancient belief inherited from the apostles, 109 where it is said that God
will “graciously grant life to those who persevere in his love — some from
the beginning, some since penance — will grant them incorruptibility and
surround them with eternal glory”. It follows from this, that the conviction
that men could regain the love of God by penance even after baptism, has
always belonged to the belief of the Church . 1101To designate this penance,
Irenaeus commonly uses the expression exhomologesis; 1U he is in fact
103 Ibid. 7, 5.
104 Ibid. 6, 43, 1; Concil. Nicaeti. can. 8. Some Novatian inscriptions in Asia Minor,
DACL XII, 1759. Also cf. Cod. Theodos. 16, 5, 2; Socrates HE 5, 21, 22.
105 Cf. B. Poschmann, Poenitentia secunda (Bonn 1940), 212.
106 Adv. haer. 3,18, 1; 3, 9,1; Epid. 42.
107 Adv. haer. 4, 27, 1-4.
108 Ibid. 4, 40, 1; 5, 26, 2.
109 Ibid. 1, 10, 1.
110 Cf. K. Rahner in ZKTh 70 (1948), 452-5.
111 Adv. haer. 1, 13, 5, 7; 3, 4, 3.
33 8
silent about a reconciliation of the penitents but this follows indirectly

from his belief in the efficacity of penance. That penance after baptism
is a concern of the Church, is clear from his observation that priests had
the duty of watching over the moral life of Christians and, when necessary,
of expelling a sinner from the Church . 112
The position of the Alexandrian teachers on penance and penitential
discipline is characterized by the fact that it is lacking in the polemic note
of the controversies of the Latin West; their statements were not formu
lated in the heat of argument against hostile views. Clement’s conception
of penance is, in the first place, marked by his idea of purification, which
was influenced by Plato; in accordance with it, he represents liberation
from sin as a rather long process, but one that is not possible without
penance. 113 What is also striking, is his considerable agreement with
Hermas’ doctrine on the subject. Like him, he stresses that the ideal of
Christian life is to avoid all offences after the great forgiveness of sins in
baptism ; 114 God knows human weakness and grants the possibility of a
second, but single, penance; this cannot be repeated because renewed
penances would show that no serious penitential attitude of mind was
present. 115* Clement views the effect of penance in a similar way to
Hermas; it confers indeed, like baptism, forgiveness of sins, but not solely
as a gift of divine pardon, and only after previous painful purification
consisting of prayer, fasting, and works of brotherly love. 118 To penance
there belongs, too, a confession of guilt, but details about the course of
this exhomologesis are not given. 117 No fault is considered irremissible, as
what he has to say about the woman taken in adultery, the good thief, and
heretics, shows. 118 Like Irenaeus, Clement does not speak of a recon
ciliation, but that for him, too, penance ended with readmission into the
Church, follows from his story of the young man who had fallen into
error and whom the apostle John “brought into the Church” again after
long prayer and fasting. 119 Clement is the first writer who recommends
for the penitent a sort of spiritual guide, whose help by prayer and
admonitions would be of great profit to him . 120 Such spiritual directors
are, in addition to the Church authorities, the perfect Christians, the
112 Ibid. 4, 26, 2, 3; 4, 27, 4.

118 Quis div. salv. 40, 3-6; 42, 14, 15; Strom. 7, 10, 56.
114 Strom. 56, 1.
115 Ibid. 2, 13, 56 ff.; 2, 13, 59.
118 Ibid. 2, 12, 55, 6; 2, 70, 3; Quis div. salv. 40, 1; 42, 14, 15; Strom. 2, 15, 71.
117 Strom. 2, 59, 3.
118 Ibid. 2, 23, 147; Quis salv. 38, 4-39, 2; 42, 7; Strom. 7, 16, 102.
119 Quis div. salv. 40, 1. A temporary exclusion from the Church is indicated by Strom.
7, 16, 102, 4; see on this A. M^hat in VigChr 8 (1954), 232.
120 Quis div. salv. 31, 1; 41, 1-6; Strom. 7, 12, 79.
339
Gnostics, and the poor of the community. The efficacy of their help by
prayer and mortification is founded on their personal perfection . 121 In
this way, Clement introduces the pneumatic (Spirit-endowed) spiritual
guide into the penitential practice of the Eastern Church, in which he was
to play an outstanding role after the rise of monasticism.
Like Clement, Origen was less interested in the concrete details of
penitential practice than in its theoretical basis, which, however, he does
not expound systematically, either. His high esteem for baptism and the
effects of its grace made him painfully aware of the gross contradiction
to the ideal patent in the daily life of many Christians. Sin after baptism
in all classes, in all the grades of the hierarchy, as well as in all its forms,
was for him an undeniable fact. Lighter sins, of course, do not lead to the
loss of the grace of baptism and consequently do not exclude from the
sacramental community life of the Church. But the sinner’s grave offences
bring death to his soul and place him in a condition worse than that before
his baptism; such a sin can no longer be wiped out by grace, as in baptism,
there is only forgiveness through an appropriate penance of atonement. 122
The model of this penance was given in the punishment imposed by Paul
on the incestuous Corinthian which was designed “for his salvation on the
day of judgment” . 123 Origen, therefore, taught the possibility of for
giveness of sins after baptism by penance even in fact for those grave
faults which he counts among the deadly sins, such as idolatry, adultery,
unchastity, murder, or other serious offences. 124 He only excepts from
forgiveness the sin of impenitence, which by its nature is an unreadiness
to do penance; 125 penance for grave sins cannot be repeated . 128
Origen makes many remarks which indicate that the Church authorities
were involved in the accomplishment of penance; he compares them with
doctors to whom one must show the wounds so that they might apply the
correct remedy. 127 An important part is played for him by admonitory
reprimand, correptio. Its severest form is excommunication, and Origen
sternly blames those in authority in the Church who through cowardice
omit to impose it where necessary. 128 Even though he also demands that
penance should not be so hard as to discourage the sinner, its duration is
nevertheless greater than that of preparation for baptism. A novelty in
121 Eclog. proph. 15, 2.

122 In Joann, comm. 2, 11; 15, 15; Exhort mart. 30; In Exod. horn. 6, 9; In Lev. horn.
11, 2.
123 In Lev. horn. 14, 4.
124 In Ioann, comm. 19, 4; De or. 28, 9, 10.
125 In Ioann, comm. 19, 13.
128 In Lev. horn. 15, 2.
127 In Ioann, horn. 37, 1, 1.
128 In Lev. horn. 3, 2; In lesu, Nave horn. 7, 6.
340
Origen is the remark that reconciled Christians could no longer be

admitted to office in the Church . 129 The sinner has to open himself by-
confession to the bishop as the physician of souls, and the bishop will also
determine whether the character of the sin makes public penance necessary
at all. 130 In his discussion of the spiritual director, Origen goes further
along the road indicated by Clement; the guide must not be a priest, and
he can be of particular help to the sinner in the blotting out of lesser
offences, if he takes part in the penitential performance of works and
prayer voluntarily undertaken . 131 Sharp disapproval is shown to some
priests who claimed to be able to forgive sins as grievous as idolatry,
adultery, and unchastity “by their prayer ” . 132 In Origen’s perspective,
that can only mean that these clerics ascribed efficacy for forgiveness, even
for such serious offences, presumptuously to their personal care for the
sinner by way of correptio, instead of requiring of him the acceptance of
public canonical penance. In no way can the remark be interpreted in the
sense that Origen taught certain capital sins to be ecclesiastically
irremissible.
Even more definitely than Clement, Origen maintains the thesis that the
priest’s power of remission is bound up with his personal perfection. He
attributes the power of forgiveness even to ordinary Christians who have
attained a high degree of personal perfection. 133 That, however, does not
mean that someone not a priest could accomplish ecclesiastical reconcilia
tion, for Origen reserves this, as well as excommunication, to the bishops.
But it remains true that the Alexandrian theologians attributed quite
special value to the collaboration of a perfect Christian in the performance
of penance. With Origen, this view is connected with the importance that
he ascribes to the “saints” in the life of the Church; just as the sin of one
of her members always affects the whole Church, so, too, she is involved
as a whole in reparation. The reincorporation into the Church that follows
on reconciliation has a salutary effect, because the salvation of the
individual and his membership of the Church are inseparably bound up
with one another. 134 Consequently, the act of reincorporation must in fact
also effect forgiveness of sins, even if, for Origen, this effect is not as
predominant among his interests as desire to emphasize the task of the
spiritual physician of the soul in the process of freeing the penitent from
sin.
129 In Ioann, comm. 28, 7; Contra Cels. 3, 51.

130 In Lev. horn. 2, 4; In Matth. comm. 13, 30; In ps. 37 horn. 2, 6.
131 In Lev. horn. 5; In Matth. comm. 4, 16, 8. These texts cannot be used to prove
the existence of private penance in the present-day sense in Origen: cf. K. Rahner in
RSR 37 (1950), 452-6.
132 De or. 28, 10. 133 De or. 28, 8; In Matth. comm. 12, 11-14.
134 In ps. 36 horn. 2, 4; cf. In Ezech. horn. 10, 1.
341
Particularly informative on the penitential liturgy in the East is the

Syrian Didascalia, the composition of which can be assigned to the first
decades of the third century. This is especially true since alleged anti-
Novatian features cannot definitely be established in it or in any case can
be regarded as later additions . 135 It emphasizes most persistently the duty
incumbent on the bishop of care for sinners; to him also belongs the
occasionally indispensable exclusion of an obstinate offender from the
ecclesiastical community, which should be carried out without respect
for persons, without favouritism. The bishop’s authority in the whole
matter of penance is founded on the power of binding and loosing
committed to him . 185186*18The measures he takes in regard to the sinner have
always a double aim; they should strengthen the community of the faithful
in what is good, while giving the sinner hope of forgiveness. The bishop
should act on the model of the Good Shepherd, who is forgiving sins and
imparting peace through him . 137 No fault, however grave, is excluded
from the bishop’s power to forgive. 138 According to the Didascalia, the
process of penance takes more or less the following course: when the
bishop has heard of a sinner in his flock, he takes him to task, reproaches
him sharply with his faults and then excludes him from taking part in the
common life of the Church; members of the community, too, castigate his
sinful behaviour. 139 After a certain time, however, they intercede with the
bishop for him, especially through the deacons; the bishop assures himself
of the genuine quality of the sinner’s repentance and, with renewed
admonitions and advice, imposes on him a penance, in which fasting
occupies a special place, proportionate to his guilt. 140 With the acceptance
of this penance imposed by the bishop, the “liturgical” phase of the
sinner’s penitential course begins and this lasts until the act of reconcilia
tion proper. The Didascalia warns the bishop when a sinner is denounced
by members of his flock, not only to check conscientiously the foundation
of the accusation but also to consider the motives of such denunciations. 141
During the official period of penance the sinner is admitted to the readings
and the sermon; consequently the excommunication is already in a sense
mitigated. 142 Full reconciliation is only granted with the imposition of
hands by the bishop which takes place to the accompaniment of prayer
by the congregation; it makes the sinner a member of the Church again
185 Cf. P. Galtier, “La date de la Didascalie des ap6tres” in Aux origines du sacrement
de penitence (Rome 1951), 189-221.
136 Didasc. 2, 20, 3-4; 2, 8, 4; 2, 10; 2, 11, 1-2; 2, 18, 2.
137 Ibid. 2, 15, 8; 2, 20, 9.
188 Ibid. 2, 22-23, 1; 2, 24, 3.
139 Ibid. 2, 16, 1-2.
149 Ibid.
141 Ibid. 2, 37, 4-5. 142 Ibid. 2, 39, 6; 2, 41, 1.
342
and restores to him the Holy Spirit, lost by sin. A special reference is here
made to the parallel giving of the Spirit by baptism . 143 The ecclesiastical
nature of penance is made clearer in the Didascalia than anywhere else,
for it is linked with the episcopal head of the community. Consequently
the sacramental character of the forgiveness of sin, conferred by him, is
apparent too.
A special feature of the doctrine of the Didascalia on penance must also
be particularly noticed; it is nowhere said that the post-baptismal penance,
described at such length and with such care, was unique and unrepeatable.
That is striking in a work that so often emphasizes the remissibility of
sins committed after baptism. The Didascalia seems rather to presuppose
that penance can be repeated after a reconciliation has already taken
place, because it does not concede this in one particular case, that of an
informer who lapses. Yet it could have simply appealed here to the
principle that penance is only possible once; in fact, however, it adduces
the reasons for this case at length and in detail, giving different grounds. 144
The supposition that the Didascalia recognized the possibility of repeated
penance and reconciliation after baptism, is strengthened by a further
observation, that between the practice of canonical penance in the
Didascalia and the practice of excommunication from the synagogue there
are so many striking parallels, 145 that some features in the Didascalia
account are only intelligible as a slightly developed continuation of the
synagogue custom. But in this, every excommunication could be lifted
repeatedly. If we add that the Apostolic Constitutions, which also
originated in Syrian territory, likewise do not recognize ecclesiastical
penance as occurring only once, 146 the conclusion becomes inescapable that
the single unrepeatable canonical penance was not everywhere current in
the East, and that this cannot simply be held to have been the original
practice. In the West, as has been shown above, it appears for the first
time with Hermas, and pastoral reasons are given for it. If he was the
very first to introduce it, perhaps as a concession to a rigorist trend, this
would permit the whole attitude of the Church to penance before his
time to be characterized as a period of greater mildness, and the assump
tion of a contrary development from an original strictness to a growing
laxity, would be shown to be erroneous.
With a single exception other accounts from the East regarding the
question of penance give no new information at variance with the picture
that has been drawn . 147 Origen’s pupil, Gregory Thaumaturgus, mentions148
148 Ibid. 2, 41, 1. 144 Ibid. 2, 43, 1-4.

145 Cf. K. Rahner in ZKTh 72 (1950), 278 ff.
140 Const. Apost. 2, 40, 1.
147 On the view of Bishop Dionysius of Alexandria, see above, p. 337.
343
the division of penitents into various classes as an arrangement established

long since, but the terminology he uses was, it seems, not yet fixed. 148
Some consider the classes of the “hearers” and “fallen” as definitely
attested, others think that those of the “weepers” and “bystanders” are,
too . 148149 The synods of the fourth century gradually gathered penitential
regulations into canons and so formed the transition to the juridically
formulated canonical penance of succeeding generations.
Disputes Concerning Penance after the Persecution of Diocletian

The Diocletian persecution again made the question of the treatment of
apostates a topical one. For this time, too, in various regions the Church had
to deplore lapsi, even though, as will presently be shown, the whole
outcome on this occasion was far from being as deplorable for her as
it had been during and after the wave of attack under Decius. As regards
Rome, the fact of disputes about the question of penance under Pope
Eusebius (310) is established, but the circumstances remain obscure. An
inscription dedicated by Pope Damasus (366-84) to his predecessor
Eusebius, says that the latter had required the fallen to do penance, but
had met with contradiction over this from a certain Heraclius, who
“forbade” penance to the lapsi. 150 The text does not permit us to attribute
with certainty to Heraclius one of the two possible extreme positions, the
rigorist view, which refused penance to the apostates or the laxist view,
which demanded their reception without penance, though the first is more
likely. According to Damasus, the discussion of these matters led to
serious unrest and to a split in the community; the dispute brought about
the intervention of the emperor, Maxentius, who banished the leaders of
the two parties, Bishop Eusebius and Heraclius. On the other hand, a
connexion between the disputes about penance under Eusebius’ predecessor,
Marcellinus (296-304), and the Diocletian persecution, can no longer be
maintained. Marcellinus, 151 too, Damasus reports in another epigram , 152
required the performance of penance from the fallen and had met with
strong opposition over this. As Marcellinus did not live to see the
beginning of the Diocletian persecution, the offences of these lapsi cannot
be determined more precisely.
148 In his so-called Epistula canonica, PG, 10, 1019-48, and J. B. Pitra, Iuris eccle-
siastici Graecorum historia et monumenta, I (Rome 1864), 562-75.
149 B. Poschmann, HDG IV/3, 39. — J. Grotz, op. cit. 400-8.
150 Ferrua, Epigrammatica Damasiana (Rome 1942), 129: . . . “Heraclius vetuit lapsos
peccata dolere, Eusebius miseros docuit sua crimina flere.”
151 Damasus actually names Marcellus, but he is probably to be identified with
Marcellinus. Cf. R. H. Rottges in ZKTh 78 (1956), 385-420.
152 Ferrua, op. cit. 181.
344
The controversy connected with the Diocletian persecution in North

Africa cannot, strictly speaking, be considered as a dispute about penance.
Many Christians had submitted to Diocletian’s demand that they should
hand over their holy books, and were regarded as traditores. The consecra
tions of bishops who were traditores were held by a rigorist section to be
invalid. When in 311 the newly-elected bishop of Carthage, Caecilian,
was consecrated by an alleged traditor, Bishop Felix of Aptungi, the
violent Donatist conflict burst out. An account of this belongs, however,
to the history of the fourth century.
The problem of the lapsi occupied the Alexandrian church, too, when
the Diocletian persecution abated, and its bishop, Petrus, laid down in an
epistula canonica the principles on which penitential practices were there
to be determined. These canons which are still extant, show no real
development in penitential practice since Origen, but they reveal a warm
sympathy for the fate of the fallen. 153 Bishop Petrus, however, is also
named as one of the leaders of the two parties which opposed one another
over the question of penance in an early phase of the so-called Meletian
schism154 in Egypt. The leader of the other group was Meletius himself
who, according to the admittedly late account of Epiphanius, firmly
opposed, with numerous confessors, the readmission of the lapsed. 155 The
question of penance was, however, not the starting-point of this division
in the Egyptian church; it was provoked rather by Meletius, bishop of
Lycopolis, in the Thebaid, who encroached upon the bishop of Alexandria’s
rights of consecration. Meletius, however, used the question of penance to
win supporters in the struggle against the bishop of the Egyptian capital
and to give the churches dependent on himself a distinctive and effective
slogan. After a few years the question of penance ceased to be topical in
the Meletian disorders and Meletius’ supporters soon joined the Arians and
made common cause with them against Athanasius.
After the revolutionary change under Constantine, the controversies
about the problem of penance ceased. It is the lasting merit of the Church
of the third century, in the often intense struggles for a right under
standing of Christian penance in the face of the rigorism that kept flaring
up again and again, to have defended the spirit of compassionate
understanding for the sinner which the founder of the Church had
preached, and yet to have prevented the incursion of lax tendencies into
Christian penitential discipline.
158 The Canons are given in J. B. Pitra, op. cit. 551-61; cf. J. Grotz, op. cit. 409-13.
154 Cf. K. Baus in LThK VII, under Meletius of Lycopolis.
155 Epiphanius, Haer. 68.
345
C hapter 26
The Development of the Church's Constitution in the Third Century
T he third century led in many ways to a further development of the

Church’s constitution. In addition to the three grades of the ministry in
the second century, new lower clerical grades develop, the episcopal office
is increasingly consolidated and gains in prestige, the organization of the
various individual communities becomes more complex, and in the East,
in particular, ecclesiastical provinces take form; the system of synods
receives new and intense impetus, and finally, the pre-eminent position of
the Roman church and its bishop grows unmistakably stronger by
recognition and by contradiction. The sum of these developments in the
Church’s constitution confirms that here, too, Christianity had grown from
its origins into the "great Church” of early Christian times.
The Clergy
The existing orders of bishop, presbyter, and deacon remained unchanged
in intrinsic significance, of course, but in many ways were more sharply
differentiated, and to some extent, too, underwent an extension in the
scope of their functions. The conditions for admission to a particular
ministry were further developed, and for the office of bishop a deeper
theological grounding was attempted. This strongly emphasizes the ever
growing importance of the bishops for the life of the Church as a whole
in the third century. The various problems within the Church, such as
the defence against Gnosticism and Montanism, the greater demands made
on the authorities by the various waves of persecution, the elucidation of
the question of penance, and the struggle against threats of schism, display
a monarchical episcopate functioning fully in the third century and in
unquestionable possession of the plenary powers that its ministry conferred.
The bishop was now the undisputed leader of the ecclesiastical community
in all the expressions of its life; he proclaims the faith to it by preaching,
and is ever vigilant for the purity of the faith, the correct performance
of the liturgy, especially in baptism and the celebration of the Eucharist;
he is the guardian of Church discipline and responsible for the observance
of the Christian ideal of life by his flock. He guides its works of charity
from day to day, and organizes its relief measures in times of need and
crisis. He represents his community in its relation with other local
churches or at the synodal assemblies of church leaders of a province,
which were now becoming important, or at even larger regional assemblies.
In this way the bishop became an important link between the individual
346
THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE CHURCH’S CONSTITUTION
community and the Church as a whole, and an effective furtherer of

Church unity.
It is understandable that theological reflection, too, turned more and
more to an office in the Church, the holder of which occupied so central
a position in Church life and in the minds of the faithful. A deeper grasp
was sought of its nature and basis, with a consequent emphasis on the
duties that such an office imposes. Origen, more than any other writer
of the third century, concerned himself with the ecclesiastical ministry.
He met many of its representatives during his lifetime and in his maturity
was himself ordained priest. N ot for a moment did he doubt the right
and justification of the ministry. The bishop’s authority is founded on
our Lord’s words conferring the power of the keys on Peter; consequently,
it is God who calls a man to such an office, and the choice should always
be left to God when it is a question of appointing a new bishop in a
community. 1 The holder of this office has the task of leading men to
the kingdom of God, consequently, he should be a model of every
virtue . 2 He has to preach the word of God, therefore he must read and
meditate the Holy Scriptures, not preaching his own ideas, but what
the Holy Spirit has taught him . 3 He has to accomplish liturgical worship
and he should only raise in prayer hands that are undefiled. 4 Origen
evidently holds the view that the efficacy of priestly authority is bound
up with the personal holiness of the man who bears it . 5 Hence his
unmistakably sharp judgment on the clergy of his time, when he compared
the reality with the ideal held out to them. The Church which ought to
be the temple of God and the house of prayer, had become a den of thieves;
bishops, priests, and deacons were full of avarice, ambitious of power,
ignorant and even irreligious; ambitious men intrigued for these offices
which had become a traffic and which were transmitted from unworthy
occupants to unworthy successors. 6 In the choice of a new bishop, there
fore, the community should be present and take care that the man chosen
is outstanding by reason of his learning, holiness, and virtue . 7
In the West, it was Cyprian who, a few years after Origen, was the
first Latin writer to try to determine the nature and function of the
office of bishop in the Church. There can be only one bishop in the local
church, who is its judge, and takes the place of Christ. 8 The bishop is in
1 In Matt. comm. 12, 14; In Lev. bom. 6, 6; In Num. horn. 22, 4; In Jesu Nave bom.
32, 2.
2 In Matth. comm. 14.
8 In Ezech. bom. 2, 2.
4 In Rom. comm. 9, 42.
5 In Matth. comm. 12, 14; De or. 28, 8.
6 In Matth. comm. 16, 21-2; 15, 26; In Ezech. bom. 10, 1; In Num. bom 22, 4.
7 In Lev. bom. 6, 3. 8 Ep. 59, 5.
347
the Church, and the Church in the bishop; anyone who is not with the
bishop, is not in the Church, either. 9 The Church, by the will of her
founder, is an episcopal Church; “it is built up on the bishops and is
ruled by them as overseers.” 10 At his election, God in some way expresses
his consent, and consequently, the bishop is responsible to God alone. 11
But the responsibility is not limited to his own community; it extends to
the whole Church. Origen, too, emphasized that a bishop is called to
the service of the whole Church . 12 With Cyprian, this responsibility is
expressed in the serious concern of the bishop for maintenance of
ecclesiastical unity . 13 He links the idea of succession with the office of
bishop by saying that it is founded on our Lord’s words to Peter (Mt
16:18), and from there proceed the ordination of bishops and the
organization of the Church through the changes and succeeding course of
time. 14 According to Cyprian, Bishop Stephen of Rome, too, claims to
have the see of Peter per successionem. 15
On account of the importance of the office of bishop, the appointment
of a man to the position had to be ensured by a sound method of choice.
Like Origen, Cyprian, too, expects the community to collaborate in it.
This was required because the congregation would be acquainted with a
candidate who was a member of it, and be able to form a judgment of
his manner of life. 16 The bishops of the province were to play a decisive
part in the choice, too, and its validity depended on their consent, which
included a judgment about the legitimacy of the way in which the election
had been carried out. 17 The right of consecrating the chosen candidate
also belonged to these bishops; the Canons of Hippolytus had already
recognized this . 18 When it is stated, with a certain emphasis, that the
bishop to be consecrated must have been chosen by the whole people,
that must be understood in a way that does not exclude the collaboration
of neighbouring bishops. 19 Cyprian regards the method of election observed
in North Africa as a divine tradition and apostolic custom, and one that
was widespread . 20
9 Ep. 66, 8.
10 Ep. 33, 1: “. . . (ut) ecclesia super episcopos constituatur et omnis actus ecclesiae per
eosdem praepositos gubernetur.”
11 Ep. 59, 5; 55, 21; 69, 17; 72, 3.
12 In Cant. comm. 3: “qui vocatur ad episcopatum, non ad principatum vocatur, sed ad
servitium totius ecclesiae.” 13 Ep. 73, 26.
14 Ep. 33, 1: “inde per temporum et successionum vices episcoporum ordinatio et
ecclesiae ratio decurrit.” 15 Ep. 75, 17.
18 Ep. 67, 5; 59, 5 (populi suffragium); 55, 8.
17 Ep. 67, 5 (episcoporum indicium); 59, 5 (coepiscoporum consensus).
18 Ibid. 67, 5 and Trad, apost. 2 (26, Botte).
19 Cf. K. Muller in ZNW 28 (1929), 276-8.
20 Ep. 67, 5: “traditio divina et apostolica observatio.”
348
The Syrian Didascalia indicates in a very special way the pre-eminent

position of the bishop in his community and pays homage to his dignity
by the most laudatory expressions; he takes God’s place in the community,
he is the image of God and the mediator between him and the faithful. 21
In his office as preacher, he is “the mouth of God”, encouraging righ
teousness, urging on to good works, enthusiastically extolling God’s
benefits, but speaking, too, of the future wrath at God’s judgment. 22 The
Didascalia speaks more insistently than any other pre-Constantinian work
of the qualities required by the episcopate and the shortcomings that
would exclude one from it. The first requirement is close familiarity with
Holy Scripture, of which the bishop must be the interpreter. A wider
intellectual formation is desirable, but is not an indispensable condition. 23
As all his conduct is to be a model to his flock, he must fulfill the
highest demands on moral qualities and character. 24 Guarantees of this
are more likely to be provided by a certain maturity in age and so the
bishop chosen should be fifty years old if possible, and in the case of a
younger candidate, his real suitability should be determined by conscien
tious investigation. 25 Access to episcopal office was barred to a man who
had been married more than once; the manner of life of the wife and
children had to be in harmony with the high dignity of the head of the
family . 26 The presbyters or priests occupy, generally speaking, in the
Didascalia, the position that the Letters of St Ignatius of Antioch had
already assigned to them; they are the advisers and associates of the
bishops, and collaborate particularly in judicial proceedings against a
Christian, but have no claim to share by right the gifts of the community. 27
The third century, however, also saw signs of increasing importance in
the office of priest, at least in some of the regions to which Christianity
had spread. This was connected with growing numbers of Christians in
country districts for whom no bishop, but only a presbyter, could be
appointed as leader of the community. This was certainly the case in
Egypt after the middle of the century as Dionysius of Alexandria testifies. 28
It can scarcely be doubted that a village presbyter, appointed to such
small communities, had also the right of celebrating the Eucharist. An
extension of priestly faculties was also granted in times of need, such as
persecutions, when the bishop, through arrest or flight, could no longer
21 Didasc. 2, 18, 2; 2, 11; 2, 25, 7.

22 Ibid. 2, 28, 9; 2, 17, 6. 23 Ibid. 2, 1, 2; 2, 5, 3. 24 Ibid. 2, 6, 5.
25 Ibid. 2, 1, 1-3.
26 Ibid. 2, 2, 1-4. There was, therefore, no obligation to celibacy yet in the third
century; Canon 6 of the Synod of Elvira then imposed it on clerics from deacons
upward.
27 Ibid. 2, 34, 3; 2, 46, 6; 2, 48, 4.
28 In Euseb. HE 7, 24, 6-9; cf. also ibid. 6, 44, 2-5.
349
personally care for his flock. A letter of Cyprian is instructive here, which
empowered presbyters and deacons in times of special peril through
sickness, to hear the confessions of the lapsed and to reconcile them. 29
Finally, the growth of priestly functions was due to the growth in this
century of large Christian communities, often with several thousand
members in the more important towns of the Roman Empire such as Rome,
Carthage, Alexandria, and Antioch. The frequent mention of priests at
the administration of baptism in the rite described by Hippolytus, is just
as noticeable in this respect as the emphasis on the part they played in the
ordination of new priests, on whom they laid hands with the bishop. 30
In Rome, the setting up of the tituli as actual pastoral districts 31 gave a
more independent position to the priests to whom they were entrusted
than was possible in smaller communities. The care of Christians in the
countryside around Alexandria by travelling priests (7rspioSeuTat) 32 at
the beginning of the fourth century, already points clearly to the incipient
development that led to the “parish”, which likewise was to give the
presbyter a new and wider sphere of activities, and so bring increased
importance to his office.
In the daily life of an average Christian community, the presbyters,
however, were still less prominent than the deacons. As the chief official
assistants of their bishops, especially for the care of the poor, and in the
administration of funds, they came into more frequent contact with
individual members of the congregation and so, as the Didascalia says,
were the bishop’s “ear and mouth, heart and soul” . 33 As the deacon had
to keep the bishop informed about all that happened in the community,
discussions of its affairs gave him, by the nature of things, much influence.
The Didascalia considers that the well-being of the community depended
on harmonious collaboration between bishop and deacon. 34
The growing needs of the communities in the third century finally led
to the development of further grades in the series of clerical ministries
which, however, all remained below the rank of deacon. They are listed
in the catalogue of the Roman clergy which Bishop Cornelius drew up in
a letter to Fabius of Antioch . 35 According to this, there were seven
subdeacons, forty-two acolytes, and fifty-two exorcists, lectors, and
doorkeepers, in the Church’s service. The holders of these offices mostly
29 Ep. 18, l.
30 Trad, apost. 8; 21 (37, 49-51 Botte).
31 See below, page 380.
32 Euseb. HE 8, 13, 7; Epist. episc. Aegypt. in PG 10, 1566.
33 Didasc. 2, 44, 4.
34 Ibid, and 3, 13, 7.
85 Euseb. HE 6. 43, 11; they are also all mentioned, with the exception of the
ostiarius, by Cyprian.
350
figured in a liturgical role, others had special tasks in connexion with

corporate works of mercy, such as care for those mentally ill and for
epileptics. The exorcists had charge of this latter task, whilst the sub
deacons are to be regarded as direct assistants of the deacons, with the
acolytes, in turn, as helpers of the subdeacons. The most frequently
mentioned office among the minor orders is that of the lector, 36 whose
duty was to read aloud at divine service; this presupposed a certain
education in the man entrusted with it, and gave special prestige. The
doorkeeper looked after the entrances to the place of divine worship,
and kept out unauthorized persons.
Appointment to these offices, as to those of priest and deacon, belonged
exclusively to the bishop who, of course, could consult his flock about
suitable candidates. The bishop handed the lector the book of readings
when he was inducted into his office, but as the Traditio apostolica
emphasizes, he received no ordination. The subdeacon was not ordained
by imposition of hands, either. 37
The beginnings of the so-called “irregularities”, or canonical impedi
ments are already clearly perceptible in the third century. As has already
been said, anyone who had once been obliged to perform public canonical
penance was incapable of receiving holy orders; similarly, baptism
received in sickness (baptismus clinicorum), which was considered to show
a lack of courage to confess the faith, excluded from ecclesiastical office;
finally, voluntary self-mutilation was regarded an an impediment to orders,
though in Origen’s time this was not yet generally recognized.
As the bishop and deacons were completely occupied with their duties,
in the larger communities, it was the obligation of the faithful to see to
their upkeep; this was a charge on the general gifts of the faithful for the
whole needs of the Church . 38 The other clerics were dependent on private
means, or on their income from a profession in civil life. Cyprian even
had to complain of the excessive acquisitiveness of some bishops, and
the Synod of Elvira was obliged to lay down quite definite regulations
about the clergy’s commercial transactions. 39
Little information is available about the training of the clergy for its
religious and ecclesiastical tasks at this period; it was not yet subject to
fixed rules laid down by the Church authorities. Consequently, the cleric
obtained his theological knowledge first of all in the lessons of the
catechumenate and further by private study, sometimes, perhaps, with
a learned Christian teacher, who after the fashion of the philosophers of
88 Tertullian De Praescr. 41 mentions it; the East at first only had the grade of lector,
reader (dvayvcoaTT)^).
87 Trad, apost. 12 and 14 (43 Botte). 8889Didasc. 2, 25,4 and 14.
89 Cyprian, De laps. 6; Synod. Illib. can. 19.
351
antiquity, now also gave lessons in the “philosophy” of Christianity.

Knowledge of liturgical functions was provided by direct participation
in the prayer and worship of his church. The growing variety of ecclesi
astical orders provided the possibility of being tested in a lower grade,
and of gradually acquiring deeper religious knowledge and increasing
familiarity with the tasks of a higher office. 40
The Bishop and his Church

The growth of the Christian communities in the third century and the
development of their organization which this involved, has already been
pointed out several times. The elaboration of divine worship in the liturgy
of baptism and the celebration of the Eucharist, and the creation of more
grades in the ministry, are among the most significant phenomena of this
kind. In this connexion, we have still to speak specifically about the
position of the individual church under its bishop as the holder of
ecclesiastical property. This, particularly in the large town communities
of the third century, was becoming of considerable importance. The gifts
of the faithful which were expended on the manifold activities of the local
church, were collected in a common fund which probably became a
permanent institution quite early . 41 In Tertullian’s time, these gifts had
assumed the character of a voluntary monthly personal contribution, the
proceeds of which were placed in the community chest (area).*2 In this
way, the local churches everywhere acquired property and funds, the
control and administration of which ultimately belonged to their bishops.
As well as contributions in money and things in daily use (foodstuffs and
clothes), there soon came gifts of houses and land, so that even before
Constantine’s time, the property of the church communities consisted of
money and real estate. 43 The existence of this church property was not
unknown to the civil authorities; Tertullian and Origen, of course,
discussed quite openly the problems connected with it. Since this property
was not touched by the State, except in the abnormal circumstances of
various particular persecutions, this presupposes the recognition of the
individual communities as the legal owners in civil law . 44 The decrees of
40 On this, see Harnack Miss 860-6.
41 Ignatius of Antioch was already familiar with it: Ad Polyc. 4, 3; and so was
Justin, for Apol. 67, 12 implies its existence.
42 Apol. 39; the common chest of Alexandria was called Y^£°acJ^X0tjL0V, cf. Origen,
In Matth. comm. 11,9.
48 Cf. Tertullian, Ad Scap. 3; Origen, In Lev. horn. 11, 1; Cyprian, De op. et eleem.,
passim. On the property of the Roman church in houses and cemeteries, cf. Liber
pontif. 26; Euseb. HE 4, 23, 10; for Antioch, ibid. 7, 30, 7.
44 Cf. G. Kriiger, Die Rechtsstellung der vorkonstantinischen Kirche (Stuttgart 1935,
reprinted Amsterdam 1961), 191-226.
352
the State authorities after the end of the Diocletian persecution, which
provided for the return of the confiscated property to the various
Christian communities as its legal owners, similarly indicate that the
capacity of the churches to own property was recognized by the State
in the third century . 45 This development, too, shows clearly that the
Church of the third century had grown into a condition and circumstances
which plainly distinguish it from the preceding period, and justify the
designation "great church” of early Christian times.
Another development in the sphere of organization was also important
for many episcopal churches. They grew not only in numbers, but also in
geographical extent. When, in Egypt, 46 there were churches in the country
which were served either by a resident priest or by a cleric from the
bishop’s centre, it followed that as the communities came into existence,
they did not automatically receive a bishop as their head, but remained
subject to the bishop of the nearest larger community. In that way a
development began in the third century which led in the direction of a
bishop’s centre, it followed that as the communities came into existence,
A reshaping of organization was taking place which led to two new
forms: a bigger episcopal diocese comprising several Christian communities
in town and country, but with only one bishop at their head, and a
Christian community which received a pastor of its own for its immediate
religious needs; he however, whether priest, or, as in a few places,
chorepiscopus, 47 was always subject to the bishop.
Forms of Organization Larger than the Local Community

The coming into existence of the "great church” is made very tangibly
clear by the association of the various individual communities under their
bishops into a higher structure, the church province. The rise of this was
determined particularly by two factors. One of these followed from the
method of the early Christian mission which first tried to gain a footing
in populous towns, which would mean the provincial capitals in the
Roman Empire, and attempted to found its first communities there.
Normally, the evangelization of further larger centres in the province
would begin from the bishop’s community in the provincial capital, and
the new churches that had come about in that way naturally maintained
close relations with the mother-church. Consequently, all the daughter
communities founded by a central episcopal church were bound together
45 Ibid. 231—42.
46 Cf. Euseb. HE 7, 24, 6. On the division of the Roman community into districts for
pastoral purposes, see Harnack, Miss 854-60.
47 Euseb. HE 7, 30, 10; Syn. Ancr., can. 13.
3 53
by mutual ties. In this association a certain leading role naturally fell to

the bishop of the mother-church, and from the fourth century, this was
expressed by the title “metropolitan”. But more decisive than the link
created by such missions, was the formation of ecclesiastical provinces
by the establishment of synods which, from the end of the second century,
brought together the bishops of specific regions to discuss important Church
affairs. The question of the date of Easter, and the Montanist movement,
are mentioned as motives for such meetings which, of course, were not
limited to the bishops of particular political provinces, but extended
beyond these. In this way, a synod on the occasion of the Easter contro
versy brought together the bishops of Caesarea in Palestine, Aelia,
Ptolemais, and Tyre, whose sees, in fact, lay in two provinces, namely,
Syria and Palestine. These bishops also kept in touch with the bishop of
Alexandria and came to an agreement with him about the date of Easter.48
In the same way, bishops from various civil provinces such as Cappadocia,
Galatia, Cicilia, and others, took part in the middle of the third century
in the Synod of Iconium in Asia Minor. 49 In any case, such synods were
a regular custom in the East at the beginning of the third century, while
in N orth Africa they were still unknown, as appears from a remark of
Tertullian which also shows that such synodal assemblies were felt to be
an important and impressive outward manifestation of Christianity . 50
It is clear from the list of those who took part in the Council of Nicaea
that, at least in the East, the association of the local churches into church
provinces was later adapted to the frontiers of the political provinces, for
the list follows the order of the latter . 51 The same Council took for
granted the existence of the ecclesiastical provinces by assigning to all the
bishops of a province the right to install a bishop in his diocese and
reserving the right of confirming this to the metropolitan of the province . 52
In the Latin West, the tendency for wider associations of this kind
only appeared later, and then assumed different forms. What happened
was not really the formation of several ecclesiastical provinces in the
proper sense, as in the East, but directly a supra-provincial association of
all the episcopal sees in North Africa on the one hand and of central and
southern Italy on the other. The leadership of these forms of organization
fell to the bishops of Rome and Carthage, particular weight attaching to
the fact that the communities of these great cities had been the starting-
points in the Christianization of the territories of which they were now the
48 Euseb. HE 5, 23, 25.

49 Cf. Cyprian, Ep. 75, 7.
50 Tertullian, De ieiun. 13.
64 Cf. E. Schwarz in AAM NF 13 (1937), 14 ff.
52 Cone. Nic., can. 4.
354
ecclesiastical leaders. When the Bishop of Carthage summoned synods in

the third century, his invitation was addressed to the bishops of all the
civil provinces in North Africa, and was so accepted. 53 Similarly, the
synods held by the Roman bishops of the third century brought together
all the bishops there were in Italy at that time. Consequently, Rome and
Carthage were ecclesiastical administrative centres of a rank far superior
to that of a mere ecclesiastical metropolis. Two such higher centres also
became increasingly prominent in the third century East, Antioch and
Alexandria. In Antioch, synods met which were attended by the bishops
of all Syria and of eastern Asia Minor, like the one planned in 251 against
Novatianism , 54 or those of the years 264-8, which were particularly
concerned with the case of Paul of Samosata. 55 The missionary interests
of the Antioch bishops extended further than the territory of a church
province, too, as their concern about Cicilia or Osrhoene shows. 56 The
same applies to the episcopal see of the Egyptian capital, whose occupant
controlled the affairs of the episcopate of the Lybian Pentapolis, although
this belonged administratively to Crete. Here, too, the third century
development was confirmed by the Council of Nicaea : 57 all the bishoprics
of Egypt, Libya, and the Pentapolis were made subject to the bishop of
Alexandria, and at the same time, express reference was also made to
the similar pre-eminence of Rome. Antioch had similar rights, obviously
in the sphere of the political diocese of Oriens. In this way, the occupants
of these two eastern episcopal sees were recognized as a sort of higher
metropolitans, and so the foundation was laid for the development of
later patriarchates. There is only a hint in Canon 6 of the Council of
Nicaea that similar tendencies were showing themselves in other places.
It is only Canon 2 of the Council of Constantinople (381), that makes it
clear that the bishops of Ephesus, Heracleia, and Caesarea were also trying
to obtain such supra-metropolitan rights for the political dioceses of Asia,
Thrace, and Pontus — without, in the long run, succeeding.
The Pre-eminent Position of Rome and its Bishop

The preceeding account has repeatedly had occasion to indicate the special
influence which the Roman community exercised on questions and events
that exceeded the sphere of interest of an average episcopal community.
53 Cf. for example, the introduction to the Sententiae episcoporum. They come from
the provinces of Africa (proconsularis), Numidia, Mauretania; cf. the list of the synods
from 251-6 with the numbers of those taking part and the names of the provinces
represented in DHGE 1, 747-50.
64 Euseb. HE 6, 46, 3. 65 Ibid. 7, 5, 1-2.
56 Ibid. 6, 12, 2; see below, chapter 27, p. 372.
87 Cone. Nic., can. 6.
355
Similarly, too, there was perceptible the echo of a claim to a pre-eminent

position, of a kind that revealed special recognition and regard for the
Roman community within the Church as a whole. In that way a develop
ment was powerfully pursuing its course, the bases of which were clearly
visible in the sub-apostolic period . 58 The features already indicated must
now be brought together into a unified view with other facts and
statements of ecclesiastical writers that have not yet been mentioned.
In the description of the Church’s fight to defend herself against
Gnosticism, the importance which Irenaeus of Lyons attributed to apostolic
tradition for the recognition of true doctrine has already been mentioned. 59
Now it must be particularly stressed that he ascribed very high value to
the Roman church for the ascertaining of apostolic tradition. This latter
can, indeed, be established, he maintains, in every church whose bishops
can be derived in a genuine series of succession from the apostles. 60 But it
is sufficient to prove this succession in the “greatest and oldest church
known to all”, that of Rome; for “it was founded and built by the two
glorious apostles Peter and Paul” and its list of bishops proves that in it,
“the apostolic tradition and preaching of the faith” has come down to
our time. 61 Here, therefore, a special pre-eminence of Rome is linked with
the fact that its church rests on the most distinguished apostolic founda
tions and has always remained true to the doctrine of the apostles.
Consequently, anyone seeking the truth, will find it in Rome; all the
Gnostic founders of sects can be refuted by the traditional truth found
in Rome. The relevance of the Roman church to the discovery of truth,
which is already expressed very strikingly in all this, would certainly gain
even more weight if the statement of Irenaeus which has been discussed
for centuries 62 without yet receiving an absolutely satisfactory inter
pretation, could also be quite certainly taken as referring to the Roman
church and to it alone. 63 This reference, however, is neither imperatively
demanded by the context, nor is it free from serious philological
difficulties. Irenaeus’ line of thought is, plainly, as follows: The apostolic68
68 See above, chapter 10, p. 152.

59 See above, chapter 15, p. 197.
80 Adv. haer. 3, 3, 1.
81 Ibid. 3, 3, 2.
82 Cf. the survey of the various attempts at interpretation in L. Spikowski, La doctrine
de Veglise dans s. Irenee (Strasbourg 1926), 146-55.
88 Adv. haer. 3, 3, 3: “ad hanc enim ecclesiam propter potiorem (al. potentiorem)
principalitatem necesse est omnem convenire ecclesiam, hoc est eos qui sunt undique
fideles, in qua semper ab his qui sunt undique conservata est ea quae est ab apostolis
traditio (For with such a church, on account of the greater authority of its origin,
every church must agree, that is to say, all the faithful everywhere, in which (church)
the tradition which is from the apostles has always been preserved by these who are
everywhere).”
356
tradition is found with certainty in the communities which rest on a

directly apostolic foundation; there are several of these and each of them
has a stronger power, grounded in its (apostolic) origin, for the ascertain
ing of truth, than any other Christian community whatever. But Rome
stands out even from this series of apostolic foundations, because, as is
everywhere recognized, Peter and Paul were its founders. Then Irenaeus
summarizes; with such a church of apostolic foundation every individual
church must agree, because precisely such a church has always preserved
the apostolic tradition. One of these churches is the Roman church; which
is even in a particularly favourable position for establishing the apostolic
tradition, but not exclusively so. 64
The Jewish Christian Hegesippus, living about the same time as
Irenaeus, showed an interest for the succession of Roman bishops, deriving
from similar motives. In his fight against the Gnostic heresy, he sought to
ascertain the tradition of belief in the more important Christian
communities of his time. Where he found a tradition transmitted from
bishop to bishop (SuxSoyYj), that for him was a proof of the authenticity
of its doctrine. His journey to the various churches led him to Rome, where
he convinced himself of the existence of such a diadocke right down to the
last bishop, Eleutherius. 65 Here, too, a specific importance is attributed to
the Roman church for a knowledge of apostolic tradition purely preserved.
Tertullian, likewise, names Rome, and Smyrna in addition as examples of
a church which could trace back to an apostle the list of its bishops in
succession. 66
Consciousness of a pre-eminent position of the Roman church in
determining apostolic tradition, was also the basis of the attitude of the
64 The difficulty of interpretation is partly due to the loss of the original text. Of
special importance appear to be the attempts of P. Nautin in RHR 151 (1947), 37-78,
and B. Botte in lrenikon 30 (1957), 156-63. P. Nautin succeeds in proving that the
grammatical structure of the sentence makes it impossible to construe hanc ecclesiam
as referring exclusively to the Roman church. On the other hand, it does not seem
possible that, as he maintains, it refers to the ecclesia universalis; for in that case omnis
ecclesia would also have to refer to each Gnostic community to which a certain
principalitas belonged, yet Irenaeus never calls a Gnostic sect ecclesia. If, however,
hanc ecclesiam is regarded as a church of directly apostolic foundation, it is easy to see
that it has a potior principalitas in regard to any other Christian community at all
which derives its origin only indirectly from the apostles. The suggestion of B. Botte
(op. cit., ad fin.), is worth considering: that conservare might be understood in the
sense of Tvjpetv and those referred to by ab his qui sunt undique as the Gnostics from
whom the apostolic tradition is being “guarded”. Even if the famous text of Irenaeus
must be abandoned as one of the proofs of early Christian awareness of the primacy,
this does not affect the development of this awareness elsewhere, where it is manifest
in various ways.
65 Cf. Euseb. HE 4, 22, 3.
86 De praescr. 32.
357
Roman Bishop Victor (189-98) in the dispute about the keeping of

Easter. 67 He appealed to apostolic tradition to justify the Roman practice
of keeping Easter on the Sunday after 14 Nisan. He then demanded quite
definitely that the churches of Asia Minor should also follow this custom,
threatening in the event of a refusal the most serious of measures, that is,
exclusion from the ecclesiastical community, because he regarded the Asia
Minor practice as heterodox. 68 A claim by Rome to leadership is here
apparent which goes far beyond the pre-eminence attributed to it as the
guardian of apostolic tradition. It is only explained by the Roman bishop’s
awareness of his ability to intervene authoritatively in the affairs of even
distant churches. Victor did not state the source of this awareness in his
own case. In any event, his instruction 69 that synods were to be held
about the matter was followed even by the bishops of Asia Minor,
although they held different views from Rome. The majority of the
synods decided on the Roman custom. Opposition to the Roman demand
was raised by Bishop Polycrates of Ephesus and his fellow bishops, because
they also believed themselves bound to an apostolic tradition. When
Polycrates in his answer to Pope Victor, emphatically recalled the great
figures of the Asiatic church of the past, this suggests that Victor had
supported the Roman claim on the foundation of its church by Peter and
Paul; but that Victor also felt himself to be the guardian of orthodoxy, is
proved by his excommunicating the Monarchian Theodotus. A few decades
later, Sabellius was excommunicated for heresy by the Roman Bishop
Callistus. 70
An unmistakable expression of the bishop of Rome’s awareness that he
occupied a special position within the Church as a whole, is encountered
in various measures of a disciplinary nature taken by Pope Stephen
(254-7). Two Spanish bishops, Basilides of Emerita and Martialis of
Asturica, had got sacrifice certificates in the Decian persecution and on
account of this and other transgressions, had been deposed. 71 Basilides went
to Rome and obtained, by false representation of the case, as Cyprian
emphasizes, 72 his own rehabilitation and that of his colleague. Two things
are notable about this incident. A Spanish bishop had recourse to Rome
because he was convinced that it was the place to which he could appeal
against the decision of a Spanish synod, and that there, a disciplinary case
of this sort could be dealt with and decided with legal authority. Even
more significant is the case that has already been mentioned, that of Bishop
87 See above, chapter 23, p. 271, with the references in the notes.
88 Euseb. HE 5, 24, 9, 89 Ibid. 5, 24, 8.
70 Ibid. 5, 28, 6 and Hippolytus, Refut. 9, 12. Both matters can of course be regarded as
internal affairs of the Roman community.
71 See the whole Ep. 76 of Cyprian.
72 Ep. 67, 5.
358
Marcion of Arles, a convinced follower of Novatian, who allowed the

lapsed in his community to die without reconciliation, despite their
readiness to repent. This time, it was Cyprian of Carthage who turned to
Pope Stephen in a very significant letter 73 that demanded from him
decisive action against Marcion, that is to say, his deposition and the
appointment of a new head of the community, whose name was to be sent
to the African episcopate so that they might know with whom they were
to maintain fellowship. 74 The whole tenor of the letter implies the view
that the Arles case concerned the pope alone, and could only definitively
be decided by him, and that Rome could determine authoritatively who
was to be granted ecclesiastical fellowship and who was not. The same
conviction was current in Gaul, because Cyprian’s letter was sent as a
result of steps taken by Faustinus, 75 the bishop of Lyons.
This public recognition of the pre-eminent position of the Roman bishop
by Cyprian, at least as regards Spain and Gaul, is rather surprising when
it is compared with his theoretical standpoint and attitude to Rome in the
dispute about baptism by heretics. It is true that in Cyprian’s writings
there are statements about the Roman church which at first sight seem to
amount to recognition of a special authority of Rome. In one of his letters
to Pope Cornelius he denounces the conduct of that section of his clergy
that was opposed to him, in sending representatives to Rome in order to
win over its bishop to their side. They brought letters “to the chair of
Peter and to the chief church, from which the unity of the bishops took
its rise” . 76 The Roman see is elsewhere called by him “the place of Peter ” . 77
In his work On the Unity of the Church, Cyprian speaks about the
foundation of the Church, which he considers is expressed in our Lord’s
words at Matthew 16:18. By designating Peter as the rock, Christ
proclaimed that he “is building the Church on one man, that the origin
of unity derives from one” . 78 The other apostles were, to be sure, equal to
Peter in dignity and power, but the beginning of unity is identified with
Peter. Apparently favourable to the primacy, too, is the version of the
fourth chapter of this work that is found in some manuscripts, where we
read: “Is anyone who leaves the see of Peter, on which the Church is
founded, still convinced that he is within the Church?” and: “Certainly
the others were what Peter was, but Petro primatus datur and so one
73 Ep. 68. 74 Ep. 68, 3-5.

75 Ep. 68, 1.
76 Ep. 59, 14: “ad Petri cathcdram atque ad ecclesiam principalem, unde unitas
sacerdotalis exorta est.” This text remains just as important even if we see it as ex
pressing the view of Cyprian’s opponents; cf. J. Ludwig, Der hi. Mdrtyrerbischof
Cyprian von Carthago (Munich 1951), 44.
77 Ep. 55, 8.
78 De eccles. unit. 4.
359
Church and one cathedra is manifest.” 79 It can be considered probable

that these sentences, which bear the unmistakable stamp of Cyprian’s
style, were to be read in the “first edition” of his work and were only
suppressed when it was revised at the time of the dispute about heretical
baptism; there is no need to assume any later interpolation from some
Roman partisan . 80 But closer analysis of Cyprian’s linguistic usage obliges
us to abandon these texts as conclusive proofs that the idea of the Roman
primacy existed in the mind of the North African bishop. Cyprian is
here still simply expressing a chronological pre-eminence of Peter over
the other apostles in the conferring of the power of binding and loosing,
for they, of course, according to his own words, possessed the same plenary
power as he. Consequently, all the bishops possess, even now, one and the
same equal episcopal office. In the cathedra Petri, Cyprian sees the well-
spring of ecclesiastical unity, which has its beginning in Peter. Cyprian
does not, however, voice the consequence that this well-spring even now,
in his own day, has this function of bringing about unity, in the cathedra
of the Bishop of Rome. He does not seem to draw it in his own mind,
either, for he maintains most emphatically the thesis that bishops are
responsible to God alone for the administration of their bishoprics. 81
What Cyprian thought in an actual concrete situation about the right of a
Roman bishop to issue binding ordinances with decisive authority for the
Church as a whole is shown by the test case of the dispute about heretical
baptism which may appropriately be described at this point.
The Controversy about Heretical Baptism

The Christian communities first encountered the problem of heretical
baptism when heretical (or schismatical) groups of some size formed, and
when members of these wanted to enter the Catholic Church. When it was
a case of persons who had been pagans, and who had received baptism in
the heretical community, the question arose whether the baptism that had
been conferred on them was to be considered valid. The same reply was
not given in all the Christian communities. In North Africa, Tertullian’s
treatise on baptism contains a first standpoint rejecting validity . 82 A synod
79 Ibid, “qui cathedram Petri, super quem fundata ecclesia, deserit, in ecclesia se esse
confidit? — hoc erant utique ceteri, quod fuit Petrus, sed primatus Petro datur et una
ecclesia et cathedra una monstratur.” On the problem, see M. B^nevot, St Cyprian's De
Unitate c. 4 in the Light of the Manuscripts (Rome 1937); and compare the two versions
side by side in J. Ludwig, op. cit. 33.
80 Cf. in particular D. van den Eynde in RHE 29 (1933), 5-24, with the older literature
there given; further references in Altaner 197 f.
81 Ep. 59, 14; see A. Demoustier in RSR 52 (1964), 337-69.
82 Tertullian, De bapt. 15; cf. De praescr. 12 \D e pud. 19.
360
about 220, under Bishop Agrippinus of Carthage, maintained a similar

view . 88 In the East (especially in Asia Minor), there was a widespread
practice of baptizing again on reception into the Church, persons baptized
in heresy. Firmilian of Caesarea himself took part in a synod in Iconium
(not earlier than 230), at which bishops from Galatia, Cicilia, and other
neighbouring provinces, decided they would continue to rebaptize
Montanists at their reception. 84 The Alexandrian theologians were also
critical of the baptism of heretics, even if they did not make a clear
pronouncement about its validity . 85 It is true that the Alexandrian church
under Bishop Dionysius took up the same position as Rome, where persons
baptized in an heretical sect were received into the Roman community
merely by imposition of hands. The different estimation of heretical
baptism and the resulting difference of treatment of those who had
received it, could plainly have existed side by side for decades in the
Church without one side having felt the practice of the other to be
intolerable. But shortly after the middle of the third century a serious
clash occurred over the matter, when the various views found unyielding
defenders in Cyprian of Carthage and Stephen of Rome. An African
bishop, Magnus, had submitted the inquiry to Cyprian whether “those
who came from Novatian” had to be baptized again in the Catholic
Church. Cyprian’s comprehensive answer is clear; baptism is entrusted to
the Catholic Church alone and her baptism alone is valid; anyone who
has not got the Holy Spirit cannot confer that Spirit. 80 Cyprian submitted
a similar inquiry from eighteen Numidian bishops to a synod in 255 and
it came to the same conclusion. 87 But according to Cyprian “a few
colleagues” were still in doubt whether the African practice were the
correct one; in a letter that Cyprian wrote after the synod, a tone of
irritation with them is unmistakable. There is also a certain sting in it
against Rome; for Cyprian attacks the thesis that in such questions appeal
should not simply be made to tradition, but that rational reflection should
be allowed to have its say; Peter, whom the Lord chose first, did not
make any arrogant claims on that account, and did not presumptously
occupy the first place (primatus).88 A synod considered the question again
early in 256 and Cyprian wrote at its request to Pope Stephen, enclosing
the resolutions of the previous year’s synod as well as his previous
correspondence on the subject. The whole file clearly showed that Cyprian
regarded the Roman custom, and the view of the validity of heretical
88 Cyprian, Ep. 73, 3; 71, 4.

84 Firmilian in Cyprian, Ep. 75, 7; a synod with the same result took place about this
time in Synada, cf. Euseb. HE 7, 7, 5.
85 Clement of Alexandria, Strom. 1, 19; Origen, In Ioann, comm. 6, 25.
86 Ep. 69, 1 and 2 and passim.
87 Cf. Ep. 70. 88 Ep. 71, 3.
361
baptism on which it rested, as a grave dogmatic error, but, with remark

able lack of logic, he wrote that he did not want to impose his view on
anyone, as each bishop was free to administer his own flock. He added
with heavy irony that there were, of course, people who, in their
stubbornness, were not to be dissuaded once a decision had been made. 89
Pope Stephen’s answer to this letter has not survived, but a clear echo
of it is found in Cyprian’s correspondence. One of his letters describes it
as “uninformed and written without due reflection”, and Stephen’s stand
point is termed an error. 90 Cyprian was particularly up in arms over the
principle with which the Roman bishop justified his standpoint. “No
innovation, but stand by tradition”, because in intention it stamped
Cyprian as an innovator . 91 Furthermore, he considered that Stephen’s
letter had also contained some “haughty matters, beside the point” . 92
The letter of Firmilian of Caesarea, preserved among Cyprian’s corre
spondence, throws welcome light on the meaning of these remarks. Cyprian
was informed that Pope Stephen’s initiative in the matter of heretical
baptism was not limited to North Africa. A letter had been sent from
Rome to the churches of Asia Minor too, demanding that they should
abandon their practice of rebaptism, and threatening excommunication. 93
Cyprian’s deacon, Rogatianus, conveyed to Firmilian a report from his
bishop about the previous course of the discussion in N orth Africa. The
detailed answer of the Cappadocian bishop shows how deeply concerned
they were in Asia Minor over Stephen’s action; all the blame for the split
was placed on him, and Firmilian compared him with Judas . 94 It is also
said that Stephen, in his folly, “glories in his position as a bishop and
claims to hold succession of Peter, on whom the foundations of the Church
rest” . 95 This makes it clear that Stephen was appealing to Matthew 16:18
and claiming for himself, as Peter’s successor, Peter’s position in the
Church. Previous Roman bishops’ awareness of a pre-eminence belonging
to them in the Church as a whole, which had already been present earlier
was, as a matter of fact, now for the first time given a formal basis in that
biblical text which in future was to be increasingly regarded as the decisive
attestation of the Roman primacy. The two leading bishops of North
89 Ep. 72, especially c. 3. 90 Ep. 74, 1.

91 Ep. 74, 1-2. On the formula “nihil innovetur, nisi quod traditum est”, cf. F. L. Dolger
in AuC I (1929), 79 ff. It is a principle with which Rome had already defended its
liturgical tradition, when Novatian wrote in the matter of the lapsi, “nihil innovandum
putavimus” (Cyprian Ep. 30, 8).
92 Ep. 74, 1: “superba quaedam et ad rem non pertinentia.”
98 Euseb. HE 7, 5, 4-5.
94 Ep. 75, 2.
95 Ep. 75, 17: “de episcopatus sui loco gloriatur et se successionem Petri tenere contendit,
super quern fundamenta ecclesiae collocata sunt.”
362
Africa and Asia Minor did not bow to Stephen’s claim. Cyprian had his
position confirmed again at a third synod in September 256, in which
eighty-seven bishops took part from the three provinces of Africa
proconsularis, Mauritania, and Numidia, — not actually comprising the
majority of the approximately two hundred bishops who there were at
that time. 96 The episcopal delegation sent to Rome with the resolutions of
the synod was not even received by Stephen, and he went so far as to
give instructions that it was not to be received in the church community
there either. 97 That meant a breach with the church of North Africa led
by Cyprian. It was the most important demonstration of Rome’s position
of pre-eminence yet undertaken by one of its bishops, and Stephen
undertook it, even at the cost of a rupture, in the consciousness of
occupying and of having to fulfill the office and function of Peter in the
Church as a whole. It is not surprising that this claim met with resistance.
Just as in the history of the Church, Rome’s task of leadership only became
more clearly manifest in situations which demanded its active exercise,
such situations becoming gradually more frequent with the Church’s
growth; so also from an historical point of view the idea of the Primacy
had to develop and became clearer through a process of some length.
Cyprian of Carthage, in his striving for an understanding of Matthew
16:18, is an example of a transitional stage in the process of clarification.
It seems much more worthy of note that in the face of such contradiction
the idea of the primacy prevailed and held its ground.
The question of heretical baptism did not, however, lead to a division
of long duration in the early Christian Church. The two leaders of the
opposed views in the West, died shortly after one another, Pope Stephen
in 257 and Bishop Cyprian as a martyr on 14 September 258. Their
followers were not so personally involved in the dispute and at first let
it rest, one side tolerating the practice followed by the other. In the East,
the zealous Bishop Dionysius of Alexandria endeavoured to mediate
between the two camps; six letters on the matter went to Rome. A brief
reference in one of these letters, written “imploringly”, to Pope Stephen,
praises the unity of all Eastern bishops in repulsing Novatianism . 98 His
implication is clear: ought it not to be possible to avoid a schism in the
discussion about heretical baptism, too? Dionysius appealed in the same
sense99 to Stephen’s successor, Sixtus (257-8). Under Sixtus’ successor,
Dionysius (260-8), the conflict between Rome and the bishops of Asia
Minor seems to have been settled. In the West, after a first approach at
the Synod of Arles, 100 a final clarification was achieved by the dogmatic
work of Augustine, in the sense of the Roman view and practice.
96 See Sent, episcop. 87 de haer. baptiz. proem. 97 Ep. 75, 25.

98 Euseb. HE 7, 5, 1-2. 99 Ibid. 7, 5, 3; 7, 9, 1 and 6. 100 Can. 8 (314).
363
The Alexandrian Bishop Dionysius, who was so zealously concerned

with peace in the Church, experienced personally, however, that the
Roman bishop demanded an account of anyone who put forward false or
misleading views in matters of faith, when, in about 260, in controversy
with the Patripassians, he used insufficiently precise formulas regarding the
distinction between Father and Son. 101 The Bishop of Rome not only
required of him a precise exposition of his views but directly addressed
himself to Dionysius’ flock and warned them of teachers who threatened
to falsify the previous teaching of the Church about the Trinity. Here too,
the intervention of Rome, even against a bishop of such undeniable merit
as Dionysius of Alexandria, demonstrates that its bishop knew he was
responsible for safeguarding right belief in the whole Church.
The pre-eminence of the Roman position also received spontaneous
recognition. The lyrical homage of the Christian Aberkios of Phrygia to
the Church of Rome dates from the early third century. He is sent to
Rome by a holy shepherdess in order to see a realm, a queen in golden
robe and golden shoes and a people possessing a shining seal. 102 Here
poetic expression is given to the power of attraction radiating from this
Christian community in the West even as far as the eastern provinces of
the empire. Origen, too, saw Rome, and not a word from him or any other
“pilgrim to Rome” of the time, indicates that it was the fame or the
prestige of the imperial capital, as such, that drew them to it. What
Origen says can certainly be considered as representative of many: “ I
wanted to see the ancient church of the Romans.” 103 The visits, delegations
and letters which came to Rome, and which have been so often mentioned
above, frequently had only one purpose, that of obtaining from this
Church and this bishop a recognition and confirmation of their aims or
views. They testify thereby to the existence of a widespread conviction
that both possessed a unique position.
This is also manifest in a final, very significant fact; the language
of Christian symbols seized on the theme in order to express a reality in
its own way or to make it accessible in a new form. The very expressive
and widespread symbol of the ship of the Church 104 was developed into
the picture of the Church as Peter’s ship. It is encountered in the texts of
the early third century, in the letter of the pseudo-Clement to the apostle
101 See above, chapter 21, pp. 259 f., with references to sources.
102 No doubt is possible regarding the Christian character of the inscription since the
investigation of F. J. Dolger in Ichthys II (Munster 1922), 454-507; see also the text in
RAC I, 13.
103 Euseb. HE 6, 14, 10.
104 Cf. especially H. Rahner, “Antenna crucis 111” in ZKTh 66 (1942), 196-227, 67
(1943), 1-21, republished in H. Rahner, Symbole der Kirche (Salzburg 1964), 473-503;
J. Dani&ou, “Le navire de l’^glise” in Les symboles chretiens primitifs (Paris 1961), 65-76.
364
James, which introduces the Clementine Recognitions and is probably of

Roman origin. 105* Here Peter admonishes the hesitant Clement, to whom
he entrusts his see, not to fail in service to the faithful who are in danger
on their voyage through this life. The owner of this ship is God, its
helmsman-pilot Christ, the bishop stands in the bows, the passengers
are the brotherhood of believers; the bishop has the hardest task, he must
vigilantly listen to the words of the helmsman (Christ) and repeat his
orders clearly. Consequently, all the brethren must obey the bishop, who
“presides in truth”, for the cathedra Christi is entrusted to him . 108
With astonishing sureness here, conviction about the position of the Roman
bishop has been transposed into the language of symbolism; he is the
second pilot of the ship of the Church, over which he has full official
authority. The 7rpoxa0yjpevY) t% aydar/)? (presiding by love) of the Letter
to the Romans of Ignatius of Antioch has become the 7Tpoxa0 e£cofAsvo<;
aXYj0 eia? (having the presidency of truth) and he has to preach the truth
of him whose chair he occupies. Novatian, too, emphasized, not without
self-satisfaction, in the letter which he wrote to Cyprian when the see
was vacant in 250-1, that the Roman church held the wheel of the ship
of the Church in firm hands. The greatest hour of the symbol of the
navicula Petri was only to come in the post-Constantinian and early
medieval period, when it was given an ecclesiastico-political interpretation,
but its symbolism is theologically richer in the Clementine Recognitions.
Devotion to the Church in the Third Century

The previous chapters have attempted to portray all the important
expression of the life of the Church as a whole in early Christian times.
The reality revealed by this picture is manifold and full of contrasts, like
everything which is living. A final feature has to be added to the picture.
This Church is not only an object of knowledge, is not only given its
theological basis and affirmed with understanding, its very reality is taken
up into the affections of the faithful, felt as a gift of grace. Just as there
was a spirituality of baptism and martyrdom, there was a spirituality
centred on the Church.
This was given most profound expression by the application of one of
the fundamental words of humanity to the Church, which was loved as
the “mother” of the faithful. This name was prepared for by the personi
fication of “faith” as a maternal figure in Polycarp of Smyrna 107 and by
Hermas, to whom the Church appeared as a revered woman. 108 The
105 On this cf. H. Rahner in ZKTh 69 (1947), 6. 109 Ps-Clement, Recogn. 14-17.
107 Phil. 3, 2 alluding to Gal. 4:26. Cf. also Acta ss. Iustini et sociorum 4, 8.
108 Pastor Vis. 2, 1, 3; 2, 4,1; 3, 9, 1.
365
Christians of Lyons were the first to apply the name “mother” to the
Church, like an expression that had long been familiar to them; the
martyrs of the year 177 were the children born of her who went home
in peace to God without saddening their mother. 109 According to Irenaeus,
the heretics have no share in the spirit of truth; they are not at the
breast of Mother Church who, at the same time, is the Bride of Christ. 110
The catechists, in preparing for baptism, clearly liked to represent the
Church to the catechumens as a mother who bears her children in baptism
and then feeds and guards them. Tertullian speaks with deep feeling,
especially in his pastoral writings, of domina mater ecclesia who, with
motherly care, looks after those who are imprisoned, 111 and whose children,
after baptism, recite the Our Father as their first prayer in common with
their brethren, “in their mother’s house” , 112 whilst the heretics have no
mother. 113 The same note of deep feeling is found in the terminology of
the Alexandrians; for Clement, the Church is the Virgin Mother who
calls her children to herself and feeds them on sacred milk . 114 Origen
sees her both as sponsa Christi and as mother of the nations; bitter sorrow
is caused her by impenitence and attachment to evil. 115 The term mater
ecclesia has become a real expression of filial love and piety in the
writings of Cyprian, who sings the joy this mother feels about her virginal
children and brave confessors; but he also knows the tears which she
sheds for the lapsed. 116 More than any other writer of the third century,
he evokes the picture of this mother when the unity of the Church is
threatened by schism. His urgently repeated appeals to the faithful to
preserve their unity at all costs culminate in one of his most celebrated
sayings: “That man cannot have God as his Father who has not the
Church as his Mother.” 117 In a mystical vision, Methodius of Olympus
sees the Church like a richly jewelled queen with her place at the right
hand of the bridegroom . 118 For her sake, the Logos left the Father and
was united to her when she was born from the wound in his side. The
newly-baptized are conceived in the embrace between Logos and Church;
born again, from her, to an eternal life and accompanied by her maternal
care throughout life, to perfection . 119
109 Euseb. HE 5, 1, 45; 5, 2, 6. 110 Adv. haer. 3, 38, 1; Fragm. 30. 111 Ad mart. 1.
112 De bapt. 20; on this see F. J. Dolger in AuC, II (1930), 142-55.
118 De praescr. 42, 10. 114 Paed. 1, 6, 42; 3, 12, 99.
115 In Cant. hom. 1, 7; In Indie, hom. 5, 6; other texts in J. C. Plumpe, Mater ecclesia.
An Inquiry into the Concept of the Church as Mother in Early Christianity (Washing
ton 1943), 70-80.
116 De hab. virg. 3; Ep. 10, 4; De laps. 8.
117 De eccles, unit. 6: “habere non potest deum patrem qui ecclesiam non habet matrem.”
118 Symp. 2, 7, 50; see A. Demoustier in RSR 52 (1964), 554-88.
119 Ibid. 3, 8, 70-2; cf. also, as well as Plumpe, op. cit. 113-22, H. Rahner in ZKTh 64
(1940), 71-74.
366
As well as this picture of the Church as Mother, which appealed most

directly to the feelings of the faithful, early Christian preaching made
use of other images, too, in order to make clear to the hearers the reality
of the Church and impress it on their hearts. So, according to Hippolytus,
the Church is “God’s spiritual garden with Christ as its ground”, with
an inexhaustible stream of water, from which the four rivers of Paradise
flow, the four Gospels which announce the Lord to the world . 120 Origen
compares the Church with Paradise in which the newly-baptized fulfill
the works of the Spirit. 121 The Johannine parable of the vine and the
branches (Jn 15:1-7), must have proved particularly rich as a catechetical
theme; it is applied to the Church by the Fathers repeatedly with far-
ranging symbolism. 122 All these metaphors were of a kind to give the
Church distinctive emotional associations in the mind of her members
and to make the Church dear to them in a sense of very real affection.
A widespread devotion to the Church of this kind in the third century
is like the spirituality of baptism and martyrdom spoken of above, an
important factor in the history of the Church, and must not be passed
over unnoticed. Even if the depth and extent of its influence is often
difficult to measure and determine, there is no doubt of its presence; it
gave the consciousness of the Church in the third century a characteristic
stamp, and may be regarded as one of the sources from which the early
Christian Church as a whole drew some of its vitality.
C h a p t e r 27
The Extent of Christianity prior to the Diocletian Persecution
R u n n i n g parallel to the rich development of life within the Church, in
literature and liturgy, organization and the practice of spirituality, was

a growth in numbers which gave Christianity at this period, even when
viewed from outside, the character of a “ great Church”. The inner
strengthening of the Church in this century created the conditions for
her decisive missionary success in the world of Hellenic civilization right
up to the beginning of the Diocletian persecution. This eminently impor
tant process in the history of the Church was influenced not only by
120 Hippolytus, In Dan. comm. 1, 17; similarly Cyprian, Ep. 73, 10.
121 Cf. J. Dani^lou: “Sentire ecclesiam” in Festschrift H. Rahner, (Freiburg i. Br. 1961),
96.
122 Ibid, 100-2. Also “Un Testimonium sur la vigne dans Barnab£ 12:1” in RSR 50
(1962), 384-99.
367
such conditions, but also by the conjunction of further favourable factors

of varying importance in their actual impact.
In the first place, the two long periods of peace in the third century
must be mentioned. They offered the Church, to an extent unknown
before, missionary possibilities of making herself known, and they were
only disturbed by a few waves of relatively brief persecution. These
chances were used variously in the different geographical territories of the
Empire and on its frontiers. Moreover, the drive of Christianity towards
expansion was furthered by developments in the paganism of antiquity
itself. The crisis of the ancient world in the third century consisted not
only of the threatening decay of the Roman Empire, but was also, and
equally, of a crisis in the existing religious and cultural forces. 1 Under
the emperor of the Syrian dynasty, the Roman State religion abandoned
what had been its traditional foundations. New cults from the East gained
increasingly larger followings even in the Latin world, until finally
emperor Caracalla gave entry to their divinities into the Roman temples; 2
the Baal of Emesa, the Sun-God of Palmyra, Egyptian Sarapis and Persian
Mithras burst the framework of the ancient Roman religion, and robbed
it of its exclusiveness. In its place appeared a wide-ranging syncretism
which, to be sure, aimed at offering something for every religious inquirer,
but was itself poor in religious substance and consequently represented,
in fact, a weakening of earlier religious forces. Christianity could advance
into this increasing vacuum, and with its claim to offer, in the midst of
this religious confusion, both absolute truth and what was “new” and
full of promise for the future, found a ready hearing among the pagan
population. The Christian preaching of the age not only presented this
claim with firm assurance of victory, but increasingly found for it a
distinguished form in speech and writing which won the respect of the
cultivated pagans. At the beginning of the third century the Alexandrian
teachers Clement and Origen dared to attempt to win to Christianity
not only cultivated people but culture itself. 3 On the foundation of
Christian revelation, they set up a new ideal of culture to which, they
were convinced, the future belonged; and they were liberal enough to
incorporate in this ideal those elements of pagan education and culture
which did not contradict the fundamental truths of the gospel. In East
and West, Origen gained an outstanding reputation and became an
attractive force with far-reaching influence. Towards the end of the
century there grew up in Antioch the second intellectual centre of
1 Cf. F. Altheim, Der Niedergang der altert Welt, II (Frankfurt a. M. 1952), 197-233.
* K. Bihlmeyer, Die syrischen Kaiser zu Rom und das Christentum (Rottenburg 1916),
9-28.
8 K. Priimm, Christentum als Neuheitserlebnis (Freiburg i. Br. 1939), 382-8.
368
THE EXTENT OF CHRISTIANITY ABOUT A.D. 300
Christianity in the East; it influenced the Syrian hinterland as much as

Alexandria did Egypt. In the West, also, Christianity produced writers
of quality and reputation who are a striking testimony to the higher
standards of Christian literary production. This rich increase in credit
and prestige brought Christianity an ever-growing number of adherents
from the pagan upper class. Under the Syrian emperors, under Philippus
Arabs and Gallienus, there were Christians in influential positions at the
imperial court, and an increasing number of bishops sprang from the
educated classes. Certainly the majority of the pagan population still
met the appeal of the new religion with refusal and, especially in leading
circles, so did the “conservatives” who instinctively defended existing
intellectual and cultural property. But at the beginning of the fourth
century, a minority of such strength and quality professed the new religion,
that its resistance could not be broken by the last onslaught under
Diocletian.
The East
At the beginning of the third century commenced that rise of the Christian
world of Alexandria which made the Church there the intellectual centre
of eastern Christianity. Origen’s activity as a teacher brought many
Gnostics and pagans under its spell; his later friend and patron Ambrose
is the best-known example of a learned convert made by him and he was
followed by many others. Naturally the Alexandrian community also
formed the missionary centre from which sprang attempts to christianize
the inhabitants of the Egyptian countryside and neighbouring peoples.
The expansion of Christianity into the countryside is increasingly attested
by the numerous finds of papyri in Egyptian territory containing biblical
fragments, especially St Paul’s Epistles, the Synoptic Gospels, the Gospel
of St John and the Acts of the Apostles, of which more than twenty can
be assigned with some certainty to the third century . 4 The Decian
persecution revealed the existence of many Christians in towns and
villages even outside Alexandria, and the mention of various bishops5
shows the growth of hierarchically organized churches which may be
presumed to have existed in most provincial centres. Dionysius, the leading
bishop of Egypt about the middle of the century, visited several Christian
communities in Fayum which clearly had a considerable number of
members. 6 When during the persecution of Decius, he himself had to go
into exile, he and his companions used the opportunity to act as
4 H. Idris Bell, Cults and Creeds in Greco-Roman Egypt (Liverpool 1954), 84 ff.
6 Euseb. HE 6, 42, 1, 3; 6, 46, 2.
• Ibid. 7, 24, 6.
369
missionaries to the pagans of their place of exile. 7 A papyrus written

about the year 300 speaks of two Christian churches in Oxyrhynchus, one
in the north, the other in the south of the town . 8 Naturally the Greek
speaking missionaries first addressed themselves to the Greek element in
the Egyptian population, but by the middle of the century, there is also
evidence that members of the Coptic-speaking part of the nation were
being converted to Christianity . 9 The beginnings of Egyptian monasticism
stretch as far back as the third century and its early eremitical phase
had its first famous representative in St Anthony, who was a Copt. 10
By the beginning of the fourth century certainly, a considerable minority
of the population of Egypt was Christian . 11
The Christian world of Northern Arabia, which became more prominent
in the third century, followed the lines of the Alexandrian centre, though
whether these relations had their foundations in missionary work from
Alexandria, must remain an open question. Origen was held in high regard
by the Christians of the province of Arabia ; 12 its governor wrote a letter
to Bishop Demetrius of Alexandria asking him to send Origen to him so
that he might learn about Christianity. Origen answered the request, and
care for the Church’s doctrine frequently led him to the capital of the
Arabian province of Bostra, where about 240, he took part in two
synods. 13 This was plainly done at the instance of Bishop Beryllus, the
leader of the Arab Christians, who was also active as a writer . 14 The
recently discovered script of a religious discussion of Origen with Bishop
Hieraclides, in the presence of several bishops, regarding the question
of the Trinity, probably took place in a church in Arabia . 15* The later
occupants of the episcopal sees of Arabia whose existence is attested here,
took part in the Council of Nicaea. It is impossible to determine to what
race the Christians in Arabia at this period belonged.
The motherland of Christianity, Palestine, lagged behind the more rapid
development of Egypt in the third century. The country people still to a
large extent shut themselves off from Christian belief and the faithful
were mainly to be found among the Greek population of the cities. About
twenty names of towns or villages with Christian groups or communities
7 Ibid. 7, 11, 13-14.
8 H. I. Bell, op. cit. 87.
9 G. Bardy, Memorial Lagrange (Paris 1940), 209 ff.
10 K. Heussi, Der Ursprung des Monchtums (Tubingen) 101 ff.
11 According to Eusebius, Praep. evang. 3, 5, the majority of people in Egypt in his
day had already abandoned the pagan cults.
12 G. Kretzschmer, “Origenes und die Araber” in ZThK 50 (1953), 250-79.
13 Euseb. HE 6, 33, 3; 6, 37.
14 Ibid. 6, 20, 2.
15 J. Scherer in his edition, Sources Chr. 67 (1960), 19-21; on Bishop Alexander see
P. Nautin, Lettres et ecrivains (Paris 1961), 105-37.
370
are known from pre-Constantinian times and sixteen of their bishops

took part in the Council of Nicaea. In his report about the Palestinian
victims of the Diocletian persecution, Eusebius quotes almost exclusively
Greek names for the martyrs, whose relatively small numbers are an index
of the extent to which Christianity had spread. The Christians of Jerusalem
did not achieve the importance which one would have expected from
its ancient Christian tradition, though pilgrimages of Christians from
other parts of the Empire 16 which sprang up in the third century,
contributed to a revival and increase of its prestige. Among its bishops,
Alexander was prominent; he showed his interest in theological learning
by establishing a library , 17 probably inspired by the example of Alexandria;
he held the teachers Pantaenus and Clement in high esteem, and was on
terms of friendship with Origen . 18 The leadership of Palestine in
ecclesiastical affairs had been taken over at an early date by the bishops
of the provincial capital, Caesarea, and they represented this church
province at the synods of Antioch. The Christian community of Caesarea
also became the theological and intellectual centre when Origen, after
leaving Alexandria in 230, finally settled here, and with strong support
from Bishop Theoctistus, was able to pursue his work. The renown of
the Alexandrian, and his manifold activity as a teacher so contributed
to the successful development of Christianity in this Palestinian town,
that about the year 300, even the pagan part of its population was not
ill-disposed. 19
An essentially similar situation was to be found in Phoenicia which
already belonged to the greater Syrian area. Here, too, conversions to
Christianity at first were confined chiefly to the coastal towns where there
were more Greeks, while the mission had scarcely any success in the
countryside. In the interior, the great pagan centres of worship of the
Sun-god in Emesa, Heliopolis, and Palmyra, occupied a dominant position
which made entry for Christian teaching difficult. Syrian national
susceptibilities played their part here, causing Christianity, represented
by Greeks, to be judged unfavourably. In the towns of Damascus and
Paneas there were Christians, because in these towns Hellenism was
stronger. In the third century, as a consequence, the coastal towns of Tyre,
Sidon, Berytus, Byblos, and Tripoli remained the centres from which
Christianity spread, and of these Tyre took the lead about 250. In this
town, Origen died and was buried and Tyre also had the most martyrs
in the persecution of the fourth century . 20
18 Euseb. Demonstr. evang. 6, 18, 23.
17 Euseb. HE 6, 20.
18 Euseb. HE 6, 14, 8.
19 Harnack Miss, 647.
20 Euseb. HE 8, 7, 1; 8, 13, 3; De mart. Palaes. 5, 1; 7, 1.
371
In Coelesyria proper, the rise of the Christian church of Antioch,

already so marked in the second century, continued. Within its walls
the synods met, from the middle of the third century onwards, attended
by bishops from a wide area and naturally presided over by the Antiochan
bishop. When the Bishop of Antioch, Paul of Samosata, himself stood
before such a synod accused of Christological heresies, 21 it became clear
that this episcopal see already possessed considerable political importance
even at that time. And it is very clear that the see of Antioch, as well
as that of Rome, was no longer a matter of indifference to the civil
government, from the fact that the case of Bishop Paul was even brought
before the emperor Aurelian, his decision being sought, and given, regard
ing the ownership of the bishop’s residence in the Syrian capital. 22
Towards the end of the third century, Antioch also became a centre of
theological learning for the East, though at a certain distance behind
Alexandria. Christian teachers of repute in Antioch at that time were
the priests Malchion and Dorotheus 23 but above all Lucian, later a
martyr (in 311),24 who laid the foundations of the Antioch theological
school. The Christian church in Antioch also became a missionary centre
which not only worked at christianizing the immediate surroundings, but
was also engaged in spreading Christian faith in more distant regions,
such as the centre of Asia Minor, Armenia, Mesopotamia, and Persia.
In the Syrian hinterland, the missionary efforts of Antioch encountered
those of Edessa. Success here was considerable in the third century, for
twenty bishops from Coelesyria came to the Council of Nicaea, most
of them probably from larger towns, but there were also two chorepiscopi
who spoke on behalf of the Christian mission in the country . 25*A certain
index of the intensity of this, is given by Eusebius’ remark that the prisons
in Syria after the outbreak of the Diocletian persecution in 303, "were
everywhere filled with bishops, priests, deacons, lectors, and exorcists” . 28
In Osrhoene, Christianity made such strides in the capital, Edessa, in
the third century, that it could be considered a Christian town at the
beginning of the fourth 27 and the centre of the Syrian Christian world.
The beginnings of a Christian school in Edessa probably also extend into
the third century . 28 The mission to the countryside started from Edessa,
and by 260 it counted several communities with bishops. 29 At the same
21 G. Bardy, Paul de Samosate (Louvain, 2nd ed. 1929); on the charge, cf. H. de Ried-
matten, Les actes du proces de Paul de Samosate (Fribourg 1952).
22 See above, p. 318.
23 Euseb. HE 7, 29, 2; 7, 32, 2-4.
24 G. Bardy, Recherches sur s. Lucien d*Antioch et son ecole (Paris 1936).
25 Harnack Miss 671. 28 Euseb. HE 8, 6. 27 Cf. Euseb. HE 2, 1, 7.
28 E.-R. Hayes, L’ecole d’Edesse (Paris 1930).
29 Euseb. HE 7, 30, 10.
372
time, Christianity advanced in adjacent Mesopotamia, to the East. On

its borders, the garrison town of Dura-Europos on the Euphrates had a
Christian community at the beginning of the third century. The rooms
set aside for worship in a private house rebuilt for this purpose have
actually been discovered. A fragment of the Greek Diatessaron of Tatian,
also discovered in Dura-Europos, shows how widely this was known. 30
The existence of other churches in Mesopotamia is attested by a reference
by Bishop Dionysius of Alexandria . 31 In the third century, too, there
also arose the bishopric of Nisibis, which was later an intellectual centre
of Syrian Christianity, and that of Seleucia-Ctesiphon on the Euphrates,
the future ecclesiastical metropolis of the region.32.
Nearby Persia was opened in the third century as a new missionary
territory for the Christian religion. Individual missionaries were able to
penetrate into the Persian highlands from the Adiabene district. Political
causes then led to the settlement of larger groups of Syrian Christians
in the Persian empire; about the middle of the century (252), the
incursions of the Sassanid rulers into Roman territory began, as a conse
quence of which numerous Syrian Christians were deported into the
interior of Persia where they were given the opportunity for forming
settlements of their own. In the organization of their church life and the
practice of divine worship, Shapur I left them complete freedom, and
so there sprang up, in addition to the purely Persian Christian commu
nities, those which had exclusively Syrian members. As one of the Persian
invasions had reached Antioch, there were Greek Christians among the
prisoners too, and these had a place of worship of their own in Rev-
Ardashir, later the seat of the Persian archbishops. 33 When the revolu
tionary change in policy regarding the Church, which occurred in the
Roman Empire under Constantine, became known to the Christians of
Persia, their sympathies were, understandably, on the side of the now
Christian empire; this led to a change in the attitude of the Sassanids to
Christianity and prepared the way for the harsh persecution which under
King Shapur II in the fourth century was to cost the young Persian
Church a heavy toll of vicitims.
In view of the strength of that Christianity, it would be quite within
the realm of possibility for east Syrian or Persian missionaries to have8012
80 O. Eissfeldt, “Dura-Europos” in RAC IV, 362-70 with bibliography.

81 Euseb. HE 7, 5, 2. No certain dates can be ascertained from the Chronicle of Arbela,
for the indications for earlier times are unreliable; cf. I. Ortiz de Urbina in OrChrP 2
(1937), 5-32. The Chronicle of Arbela, however, receives a much more favourable
criticism from G. Messina in Orientalia 6 (1937), 237 ff.
82 Harnack Miss 691.
88 A. Allgeier, “Untersuchungen zur altesten Kirchengeschichte von Persien” in Katholik
98 II (1918), 224-41, 289-300.
373
penetrated into western India at this time. The St Thomas Christians of

south-west India, of course, regard the apostle Thomas as their first
missionary, 34 but the apocryphal Acts of Thomas, on which they have
to base that belief, is not a very sound source. When Origen mentions
India on one occasion, he still regards it as a pagan country . 35 Arnobius
the elder, however, clearly assumes the existence of individual Christians
about the year 30036 and the well-organized Christian communities
attested by Cosmas Indicopleustes about 525 in Malabar, in the region of
present-day Bombay, and in Ceylon, 37 oblige us to assume a fairly long
missionary development with its beginnings in the fourth or fifth century.
That again suggests the possibility of evangelization by Persian Christians
who had fled east from Persia under persecution and this conjecture is
supported by the later dependence of the Indian Christians on Seleucia-
Ctesiphon. 38
The region of Asia Minor maintained throughout the third century the
lead in Christianization which it had gained by the end of the second
over other parts of the East. The province of Cicilia, the geographical
link between west Syria and Asia Minor preserved, however, a marked
orientation towards Antioch. The Pauline origin of the church of the
city of Tarsus gave it special rank and caused it to become the metro
politan see of the province. Dionysius of Alexandria is probably referring
to the metropolitan dignity of the Bishop of Tarsus when he gives
Hellenus of Tarsus precedence over the other bishops of Cicilia . 39
Examples of churches with bishops were those of Epiphania and Neronias,
whose leaders were represented at the Synod of Ancyra in 314, and seven
more were named as taking part in Nicaea, among them was a chorepis-
copus, evidence that Christians in the countryside were already also joined
into communities. 40 O f the provinces of Asia Minor, Cappadocia and
Pontus are prominent, both on account of the prestige of their metro
politans and their strong missionary interest. Firmilian of Caesarea was
the recognized leader of the Cappadocian episcopate at their annual
meetings and an enthusiastic admirer of Origen, whom he invited to his
diocese. 41 He corresponded with Cyprian of Carthage on the question of
heretical baptism and so is already a pointer to the later theological
standing of Caesarea. 42 A considerable number of martyrs also contributed
84 Cf. L. W. Brown, The Indian Christians of St Thomas (Cambridge 1956), 43-64.

85 Origen, In Iesu Nave horn. 15, 5.
88 Arnobius, Adv. nat. 2; 12, and on this, G. E. McCracken, “Arnobius of Sicca” in
ACW 7 (1949), 31 Iff.
87 Cosmas Indicopl., Topogr. christ. 3, 178.
88 Cf. R. Garbe, Indien und das Christentum (Tubingen 1914), 153-5.
89 Euseh. HE 7, 5, 1.
40 Harnack Miss 730 ff. 41 Euseh. HE 6, 27. 42 Cyprian Ep.75.
374
to its renown. At the end of the period of persecution the Christians were
already in a majority in Cappadocia.
The Pontic regions, lying to the North of Cappadocia, were also a
fertile mission field in the third century. Here, of course, there were
certainly considerable Christian communities quite early, such as Amastris,
Synope, Pompeiopolis, soon joined by the important Amaseia which was
the metropolis as early as 240.43 The missionary, however, who succeeded
in winning even the majority of the country population to Christianity,
was Gregory Thaumaturgus. He received his theological formation with
Origen and, after his return home, was consecrated bishop of his native
town, Neo-Caesarea, by the Bishop of Amaseia. 44 In his activity a well-
thought-out missionary plan can be detected. After the Decian persecution
he travelled systematically through the country districts, acquired precise
knowledge of the strength of paganism and the religious customs of the
people, and framed his missionary method accordingly. He succeeded
in shaking the confidence felt by the people in the pagan priesthood
and drew them to Christianity by an impressive liturgy. He seized on
the liking of the population for festivals and celebrations in the course
of the years, by giving these a Christian content and making festivities
in honour of the martyrs the culminating points of the year. By his work,
paganism was considerably overcome, 45 though the task of deepening
Christian belief remained for the later bishops of Pontus, as can be seen
from the discussions of a Synod of Neo-Caesarea between 314 and 325
which dealt in detail with the discipline of the churches of Pontus . 46 By
that time, however, Pontus could be considered a country which, to a large
extent, had accepted the Christian faith.
The evangelization of Armenia was essentially influenced by the
neighbouring regions of Pontus and Cappadocia in the west and Osrhoene
in the south-east, and this had consequences of various kinds for the
Armenian Church. The first missionaries probably came from the South,
from the Edessa area, preached in the province of Sophene in Lesser
Armenia, and used Syriac as the language of the liturgy. It was probably
here in the south-east that Meruzanes was a bishop; Dionysius of
Alexandria addressed a letter to him about penance. 47*49The decisive impulse
45 Euseb. HE 4, 23, 26. The bishops of Pontus had also taken part in the discussions
about the date of Easter, ibid. 5, 23, 3.
44 Quasten P, II, 123 ff.
45 These details can be gathered from the account that Gregory of Nyssa gives of the
life of Gregory Thaumaturgus; it is not entirely free from legendary elements in other
respects: PG 46, 893-958.
49 The Canons of the Synod in F. Lauchert, Die Kanones der altkirchlichen Concilien
(Freiburg i. Br. 1896), 35 ff., and in E. J. Jonkers, Acta et symbola conciliorum quae
saeculo quarto habita sunt (Leyden 1944), 35-8. 47 Euseb. HE 6, 46, 2.
375
for the complete conversion of the country came, however, from

Cappadocia. The Armenian, Gregory, had fled there when, in his country,
struggles were taking place between the Persian Sassanids, the rulers of
Palmyra, and finally, Rome. Gregory became acquainted with Christianity
in Caesarea and was baptized there (c a .d . 285-90). After his return he
became the great missionary of his nation, which, on this account,
honoured him with the title of "The Illuminator”. In his work of conver
sion he had the full support of his king, Trdat II, who with the upper
classes of the country, embraced the Christian faith. The acceptance of
Christianity by the Armenians assumed a political complexion when this
was presented as a national alternative to the Persian religion previously
imposed upon them. After overcoming the resistance of the pagan priests,
Christianity became the State religion and the Church was richly endowed
with the former temple treasure. The religious centre was Ashtishtat where
the chief pagan shrine had stood and Bagravan was another important
see. 48 The influence of Cappadocia remained because Gregory and his
immediate successors recognized Caesarea as a kind of higher metropolitan
see. In his missionary methods Gregory the Illuminator seems to have
imitated Gregory Thaumaturgus of Pontus, for he, too, zealously encour
aged veneration of the martyrs and replaced pagan centres and seasons of
worship by Christian churches at those places and by festivals in memory
of Christian saints. 49 The report of the forty martyrs of Sebaste48950 shows
that Christianity, by 300, had already a strong hold in the country
districts of Armenia, too. Some of the village communities had a bishop
at their head, others only priests and deacons. The last great persecution
fell in Armenia on a country that was, in its majority, Christian, so that
the fight of Maximinus Daia against the Christians was felt as an attack
upon the whole nation . 51 It was only in post-Constantinian times that
evangelization of Georgia began on any considerable scale, but Christianity
may well have become known there in individual cases through the busy
trade that existed with the west of Asia Minor. 52
Although there is scarcely any question in the sources of any marked
clash between paganism and Christianity in the western provinces of Asia
Minor in the third century, nevertheless at this period, particularly in the
towns, the Christian religion had achieved the position of an important
minority. This much is clear from the situation that the Roman authorities
discovered everywhere when they tried to put into effect Diocletian’s
48 F. Tournebize in DHGE IV, 294 ff.

50 Text in R. Knopf - G. Kruger, Ausgewahlte Mdrtyrerakten (Tubingen, 3rd ed. 1929),
116-19, and bibliography.
81 Euseb. HE 9, 8, 2.
62 K. Liibeck, Georgien und die katholische Kirche (Aachen 1918), 6.
376
religious edicts and the ordinances of Maximinus Daia or Licinius. In

Nicomedia itself, where the persecution began, there were many Christians
in high State positions, and even at court. This corresponded to their
numerical strength in the administrative centre; there were similar strong
communities in the Bithynian towns of Nicaea, Chalcedon, Prusa and
others, as the presence of their bishops at the Council of Nicaea shows:
and further expansion in the country is indicated by the existence of two
chorepiscopi. 58 A similar picture emerges for the provinces of Galatia,
Phrygia and Pisidia; for their bishops met in synods in Iconium and
Synnada at the time of the dispute about heretical baptism. Ancyra, the
metropolis of Galatia, had quite a considerable synod in 314; its proceed
ings are extant. 54 Laodicea, the metropolitan see of Phrygia possessed a
celebrated martyr in Bishop Sagaris and the number of bishops of this
province at Nicaea was considerable (eight). In Phrygia the wealth of
Christian inscriptions from pre-Constantinian times is very striking, and
neighbouring Pisidia is also distinguished by them; there, the best known
sees were Iconium and Laodicea and nine others whose holders figure on
the list at Nicaea. Least information is available in the sources for the
provinces in the south of Asia Minor, Lycia, Pamphilia, and Isauria,
although once again the presence of twenty-five bishops from these areas
at Nicaea proves the intensive missionary work of the previous century.
The same is true of the west coast of Asia Minor where as well as the
famous names of Ephesus, Smyrna, Pergamon, Sardes, Thyatira, and
Miletus, a large number of other towns having churches ruled by bishops
must be listed.
The impression of a far-advanced Christianization of Asia Minor given
by this survey of individual regions and provinces, is confirmed by a
quantity of reports and indications referring to the whole of this territory.
It is clear that, with the exception of the short Decian persecution, almost
unrestricted freedom was available here throughout the third century for
the preaching of the Christian faith. This is shown by the numerous
epitaphs, even from smaller places in Asia Minor, upon which the Chris
tian faith of the dead could be openly expressed. 55 Similarly, the building
of Christian places of worship seems to have encountered no difficulties; a
little town like Amaseia in Pontus had several churches in the time of
Licinius56 and would scarcely be unique in this respect. In many provinces,
for instance in Phrygia and the neighbouring regions, a high degree of834*6
83 Harnack Miss 762-85, also for what follows.

84 Cf. F. Lauchert, op. cit. 29-34; E. J. Jonkers, op. cit. 28-35.
88 Collected in the Monumenta Asiae Minoris antiqua IV and VI published by the
American Society for Archaeological Research (London-Manchester 1928-56). Cf. also,
H. Gr^goire, Recueil des inscriptions chretiennes de 1‘Asie Mineure (Paris 1922).
86 Eusebius Vita Const. 2, 1-2.
377
Christianization had already been reached by the middle of the century,

for Dionysius of Alexandria terms the communities of these areas “the
most populous churches” . 57 Lucian of Antioch no doubt had such
conditions in Asia Minor in his mind, when, in a discourse in Nicomedia,
he said that “whole towns” had accepted the truth of the gospel. 58 In
the Diocletian persecution a town of the province of Phrygia was burnt
down because the whole of it was Christian . 59 Finally, Maximinus Daia
when considering Asia Minor, justified his measures against the Christians
on the grounds that “almost all” would be converted to that religion. 60
The high percentage of bishops from Asia Minor present at Nicaea (and
yet a number of absences must be reckoned with), shows too, that
Christianity had here already given itself a thoroughly systematic organ
ization, such as was required for the pastoral care of such a numerous
following in the churches of both town and country.
The sources contain only sparse material, until the fourth century, on
the progress of Christianity on the Greek islands. Certainly it was only
by chance that no bishop from Crete took part in the Council of Nicaea,
as of course the existence of churches with bishops in Cnossos and Gortyna,
as early as 170, is proved by the correspondence of Dionysius of Corinth .61
On the other hand, the Christian communities of the islands of Corcyra,
Cos, Lemnos, and Rhodes, had sent representatives. Christianity can also
presumably be taken to have existed before 300 on the island of Patmos
with its rich traditions. Cyprus was represented at Nicaea by the bishops
of Salamis, Paphos, and Trimithus; 62 here the proximity of Antioch had
plainly been favourable to more rapid development. Finally Christianity
before the Council of Nicaea had also found entry into the Greek settle
ments on the northern coasts of the Black Sea and in the Crimean
peninsula, for the two bishops, Theophilus of Gothia and Cadmus of
Bosphorus, who are known to have taken part in the Council, came from
that area. Christianity had also been spread even among the Goths north
of the Black Sea by Cappadocian prisoners of war who had been taken
there in 258, after an attack on Asia Minor. 83
The Greek mainland could not, about the year 300 rival either the
intensity or extent of evangelization as it existed on the west coast of
Asia Minor or in Bithynia, although stronger missionary activity might
have been expected from towns of Pauline tradition. Something of the
kind is perceptible in Corinth , 64 which concerned itself with the Chris
tianization of the Peloponnesus. The latter possessed, in the third century,
57 In Euseb. HE 7, 7, 5. 68 In Rufin. HE 9, 6. 89 Euseb. HE 8, 11, 1.
80 Ibid. 9, 9 a, 1.
81 Ibid. 4, 23, 5, 7-8. 82 Hamack Miss 786, 677. 83 Ibid. 797.
84 Cf. the letter of Dionysius of Corinth to the church of Lacedaemon: Euseb. HE 4,
22, 2 .
378
several Christian communities, for "the bishops of Achaea” championed

Origen in 231. Corinth, as the ecclesiastical metropolis, also possessed pre
eminence over Athens which preserved even into the fourth century the
character of a pagan city and a centre of secular learning. It is not really
clear why Origen twice stayed in Athens. He praised the order and peace
of its church which, he said, contrasted with the noisy assemblies of the
Athenian people. 65 Further north, the island of Euboea and the towns of
Thebes, Larissa, and, of course, Thessalonica, had episcopal churches whose
leaders were present at Nicaea in 325.66
The West
It was only gradually that the romanized Balkans with their Danubian
provinces and the adjacent Noricum became receptive to the message of
the gospel. 67 Reports about missionary activity by disciples of the apostles
in these areas are legendary, but are supposed with no reliable evidence.
Traces of Christianity can be found for Noricum, at the very earliest, in
the second half of the third century; influence from Aquileia must be
presumed for this. About the year a .d . 304 Florian became a martyr at
Lauriacum (Lorch). It is only reports of the martyrdom of Christians in
the Diocletian persecution that show that Christian faith had penetrated
various Balkan areas by the beginning of the fourth century. For the prov
inces of Moesia and Pannonia the number of martyrs is in fact relatively
high; among them were the bishops of Siscia, Sirmium, and Pettau; in
Durostorum (Moesia) the soldier Dacius was executed, and a remarkable
report of his trial and death is extant. 68 The list of those present at Nicaea
mentions, as well as those named above, the episcopal sees of Dacus, in the
province of Dardania, Marcianopolis in Moesia and Serdica in Dacia. In
addition, there are about twelve other places where Christian churches
may be presumed to have existed but, with one exception, they are only
towns. It was in these that the Christian faith first won large numbers of
adherents, and the evangelization of the country people remained a task
for the fourth and fifth centuries.
In Italy the third century signified a period of strong external and
inner growth for the Christian community of the capital, Rome; the
number of its members was increasing considerably, its internal organization
was developing and becoming firmer and its prestige within Christianity
as a whole was continually increasing. When Pope Callistus declared at the
beginning of the third century that marriages between slaves and Roman
65 Euseb. HE 6, 23, 4; 6, 32, 2. «« Harnack Miss 788-92.

67 Cf. A. Lippold - E. Kirsten in RAC IV, 166-9.
68 Text in Knopf - Kruger, op. cit. 91-5.
379
matrons would be regarded as valid by the Church, it can be inferred

that Christianity had also penetrated the upper classes. About the middle
of the century, the total number of all Christians in Rome had increased
so considerably that their pastoral needs could no longer be attended to
from one church centre; a division into seven pastoral districts proved
necessary, and was probably implemented under Pope Fabian . 69 Eusebius
provides very precise and significant figures regarding the strength of the
clergy of the city of Rome under Pope Cornelius (251-3). The total of
154 clerics included 46 priests, 7 deacons, 7 hypodeacons, 42 acolytes, and
also 52 exorcists, lectors, and doorkeepers. The numbers of widows and
poor people cared for by the community at that time was more than
1,500.70 Even if the percentage of those dependent on ecclesiastical charity
is put rather high, a total number of Christians of some 10,000 must
probably be inferred from all this.
In the second half of the century the administrative development was
continued by the introduction and arrangement of what were later known
as the titular churches; various districts of Rome now received a domus
ecclesiae: a fairly large private house obtained by the community. As well
as rooms for the clergy of the district these also provided rooms for divine
worship and other pastoral purposes. The titular churches formed, with
the cemeteries, the properties which were given back to the Church after
the Diocletian persecution. 71 It is also clear that the proportion of Chris
tians in the total population of Rome at the beginning of the fourth
century was very considerable from the attitude of Emperor Maxentius,
who, though a pagan himself, deliberately refrained from any persecution,
because he did not wish to turn the strong group of Christians into
political opponents at home. 72 Finally, the often-quoted remark of
Cyprian 73 that Emperor Decius had said that he was less concerned over
the news of the revolt of a rival emperor than by the election of a new
bishop in Rome, indicates the great prestige of the Roman bishop, but also,
indirectly, implies the importance of the Roman Christian community in
the middle of the third century.
Doubtless many a missionary campaign was undertaken by this strong
and eminent church to win to Christianity the immediate and also more
69 Hippolytus, Refut. 9, 12; on this K. von Preysing in ZKTh 38 (1914), 422fF;

Duschesne LP, I, 148.
70 Euseb. HE 6, 43, 11.
71 Cf. F. Lanzoni, “I titoli presbiterali di Roma antica” in RivAC 2 (1925), 195-257;
R. Vielliard, Recherches sur les origines de la Rome chretienne (Majon 1941) 27 fF.;
E. Josi in ECatt XII, 152-8.
72 H. v. Schoenebeck, Beitrdge zur Religionspolitik des Maxentius und Constantin
(Leipzig 1939), 4-27.
78 Ep. 55, 9.
380
distant surroundings of the capital. Unfortunately the details are lacking

that would permit a more detailed account of the course of evangelization
of central and southern Italy. Its success is shown by the controversy
connected with Novatian’s step in trying, after his separation from the
great Church, to set up an ecclesiastical organization of his own for his
followers. He had himself consecrated by three bishops as their leader
and these three had been fetched from Italy, that is to say, in this case,
from the country . 74 Pope Cornelius gave new leaders to the churches of
these bishops and then summoned a synod to Rome in which sixty Italian
bishops took part, with numerous presbyters and deacons. Cornelius, in his
report to Bishop Fabius of Antioch, provided a register containing the
names of the bishops and their sees which included the name and see
of the bishops who were prevented from taking part in the Roman synod,
but who had written to disapprove of Novatian’s proceedings. 75
Unfortunately, this double list of bishops, which might have given infor
mation about the distribution of Christian churches in central and southern
Italy, has not been preserved. If, however, as well as the sixty participants
in the Roman synod and the bishops who were prevented from attending,
the episcopal supporters of Novatian are also counted, the number of
Christian communities in Italy about the year 250 must easily have
amounted to a hundred. The signatures of those taking part in the Synods
in Rome in 313 and Arles in 314 mention eight of these sees by name.
About fifty other place-names can be inferred from reports of martyrdoms
and archaeological finds as being probable locations of Christian com
munities even before Constantine’s time. 76 The country population of
central and southern Italy, of course, had not been effectively reached by
the Christian mission at the beginning of the Peace of the Church. A
surprisingly low level of Christianization is also displayed by the provinces
of upper and northern Italy; these obviously at that time were not envis
aged in Rome’s missionary interests. Particularly the Tyrrhenian side of
Northern Italy seems to have remained completely devoid of Christian
influence before the fourth century. One of the oldest churches in Aemilia
must have been Ravenna, whose list of bishops goes back to the third
century. 77 Close to it in age Rimini, Cesena, and probably Bologna, too, may
have been pre-Constantinian churches. 78 The martyrdom of Antoninus
indicates that there was a Christian community in Piacenza at that time. 79
In Venetia, Aquileia was an important early Christian centre which
certainly had a bishop as its head in the second half of the third century.
74 Euseb. HE 6, 43, 8. 75 Ibid. 6, 43, 2, 10, 21.

76 Hamack Miss 811-16.
77 M. Mazzotti in ECatt X, 558-73, and bibliography.
78 Delehaye OC 328 ff. 79 Ibid. 329.
381
Its fourth bishop, Theodore, and his deacon, Agathon, took part in the
Synod of Arles in 314 and he was also the builder of the first Christian
basilica in his city . 80 From here, Christianity could easily penetrate to
Verona and Brescia, both of which received their first bishops in the third
century. The presence of Christians in Padua before Constantine’s time
may be considered probable. 81 Perhaps even older than that of Aquileia is
the Christian community of Milan, capital of the province of Transpadana.
Its bishop, Merocles, who took part in the two Synods of Rome, 313,
and Arles, 314, appears sixth among the bishops of Milan, so the see must
have dated from the first half of the third century. The local martyrs,
Felix, Nabor, and Victor, were the glory of Christian Milan in the fourth
century . 82 It is doubtful whether Christians can be presumed to have
existed in nearby Bergamo before Constantine. The sources give no
indication about Christians in the country districts of any of these prov
inces before this time and the country people, in fact, were only won over
to Christian belief in the fourth and fifth centuries, by apostolic bishops of
the towns.
The large islands of the Tyrrhenian Sea, Sardinia and Sicily, however,
lay within the sphere of Rome’s interest. There is reason to suppose that
Christianity came to Sardinia through Roman Christians who had been
condemned to forced labour in the mines there. 83 The first bishop of the
island whose name is known, is Quintatius of Calaris (Cagliari) who, with
his priest, Ammonius, took part in the Synod of Arles. In the interior of
the island, paganism certainly persisted for a long time. During the Decian
persecution, the Roman clergy were in correspondence with Christians of
Sicily. 84 Syracuse on the east coast, with its rich traditions, is a Christian
centre whose catacombs date back to the third century 85 and whose bishop,
Chrestus, was invited by Constantine to the Synod of Arles. 86
The third century represents for the Church of North Africa the decisive
period of its pre-Constantinian growth, when Christianity was embraced
by practically a majority in the towns. Tertullian’s writings in many
respects reflect the vitality and vigour with which evangelization was
carried on at the beginning of the century. The report of the martyrdom
of Perpetua and Felicity gives a striking impression of the eager life of the
80 ECatt I, 1722 and bibliography; J. Fink, Der Ursprung der altesten Bauten auf dem
Domplatz von Aquileja (Cologne 1954) and on this, L. Voelkl in RQ 50 (1955), 102-14.
82 Delehaye OC 335-7. 83 Hippolytus, Refut. 9, 12.
84 Cyprian Ep. 30, 5.
85 G. Agnello, “La Sicilia cristiana” in A tti de 1° congresso nazionale di archclogia
cristiana (Rome 1952); by the same author, Actes du V® congres international d'archeo-
logie chretienne (Vatican City 1957), 291-301; further bibliography, ibid. 156-8.
86 Euseb. HE 10, 5, 21.
382
church of Carthage, whose members belonged to every social class. 87 The

persecution under Scapula, in 2 1 1 , involved Christians of the provinces of
Byzacena and Mauretania . 88 Particularly significant for the expansion of
Christian communities throughout North Africa are the growing numbers
of bishops who took part in the synods, which were particularly frequent
there. Bishop Agrippinus (218-22) already had seventy bishops around
him at a synod in Carthage, including some from Numidia , 89 and at a
synod in Lambaesis about 240, their number had already risen to ninety . 90
Finally, the transactions of the synod of 256 not only record the attitude
adopted to heretical baptism by the eighty-seven bishops who took part
but also give the names of their sees. 91 According to this, Africa pro-
consularis had the greatest proportion of bishoprics; they were also
numerous in Numidia though much rarer in Mauretania and Tripolitania.
The correspondence and other writings of Cyprian are a mine of infor
mation regarding the size and variety of the community of Carthage, the
capital, with its numerous and strongly organized clergy, and regarding
the differing quality of the members of the church, 92 a terrifyingly large
part of whom gave way in the Decian persecution, while others bravely
bore noble testimony to their belief. At the summit of this great community
Cyprian himself ruled as a conscientious pastor and also as the sovereign
head of African Christendom. By his character and personality, he put in
the shade every provincial governor in the North Africa of his time and
publicly and eminently illustrated the validity of the faith he represented.
The Christian religion was able, by the end of the period of persecution,
to conquer for itself the majority of North African towns through its
great prestige and through the impetus gained by its relatively rapid
expansion. 93 Shortly before, the most distinguished representatives of
pagan literature, the Africans Arnobius and Lactantius, had accepted the
Christian faith. In the Diocletian persecution apostasy and fidelity seemed
to have more or less balanced; it became clear that such a proportion of
the population of the urban settlements had decided for Christianity that
it was no longer to be defeated. The Donatist controversy gives the
impression of there being two denominations of one Christian people, for
whom paganism had come to be a long-past episode of history. Never
theless, the African Church still had a great missionary task before it,
87 Text edited by C. I. M. Beek (Bonn 1938, FlorPatr 43).

88 Tertullian, Ad scap. 3-4.
89 Cyprian Ep. 71, 4. 90 Ibid. 59, 10.
91 Sent, episc. 87 and cf. the cartographical expression of the information in F. van der
Meer-C. Mohrmann, Bildatlas der friihchristlicben Welt (Giitersloh 1959), Map 4, p. 10.
92 Cf. D. D. Sullivan, The Life of the North Africans as revealed in the Works of
St Cyprian (Diss. Washington 1933).
93 Euseb. HE 10, 5, 16-18.
383
that of winning, as well as the romanized population, the Punic element

of the nation and then the Berber tribes in south and west on the fringes
of the North African mountains, so intensively to Christianity, that in
times of persecution and tribulation they could preserve it independently.
It will have to be shown later that neglect of this double task was one of
the reasons why Christianity could not survive the Islamic invasion to any
notable extent.
Information about the progress of Christian expansion in the Spanish
provinces in the third century is not exactly abundant. There is an
important letter of Cyprian’s which indicates that in his time there were
organized churches with bishops in various places in Spain, though he only
names four of them, Leon, Astorga, Merida, and Saragossa. 94 Cyprian also
knew that these Spanish bishops met in synods but no missionary is named
as preaching the faith there and no church from which he was sent. A
certain link of Spanish Christianity with Rome can, perhaps, be inferred
from the fact that one of these bishops appealed to the Bishop of Rome
against the verdict of a synod. The reports of Christian martyrdoms
indicate the existence of Christian groups, apart from those in the towns
already mentioned, in Tarragona, Cordova, Calahorra, Alcala, Sagunto,
and Astigi. 95 Particularly informative for our purpose are the transactions
of a synod which took place immediately before the beginning of the
period of peace, in the town of Elvira (Granada) in the South of Spain ; 96
we have already frequently quoted them. Twenty-three churches of the
province of Baetica (Andalusia) were represented by their bishops or other
clerics; the representatives of fourteen other churches came from the
province of Tarragona, eight of them from the frontier region of Baetica
and two from the province of Lusitania. From the home towns of those
who took part in the synod, it seems clear that the south-east of Spain had
been most affected by evangelization, which had been stronger there than
towards the Atlantic coast, the west or the north-west of the country . 97
The tenor of the decisions of the Synod of Elvira provides a welcome
measure of the effectiveness of previous missionary work in the Spanish
provinces. This must be described as alarmingly slight, even if it is taken
into account that the resolutions of such congresses generally do not stress
the good features of religious life. Freedom from pagan customs and
superstition was far from attainment, relations between Christian masters
and their slaves showed little Christian spirit, attendance at church left
much to be desired, all ranks of the clergy failed morally, and sexual
94 Cyprian Ep. 67. 95 Delehaye OC 362-71.

96 Text in Lauchert, op. cit. 13-26 and in Jonkers, op. cit. 5-23. On the list of those
taking part, cf. Hefele-Leclercq, I, 214ff.
97 See Map 4 in F. van der Meer - C. Mohrmann, op. cit. 10.
384
transgressions were widespread. The impression given in this case is not

that a new worldly trend had begun in previously excellent communities,
but that there had been a serious lack of the intensive missionary endeavour
necessary to inculcate into persons, who had, perhaps, been converted all
too rapidly, a Christianity which permeated all sections of life. This is
confirmed, in particular, by the fact that the attempt was made to remedy
the faults that existed by stern, punitive measures. 98 The mission in Spain
before Constantine’s time, was not yet able to give the Church any bishop
or writer of rank, and a broad field still lay open for missionary con
solidation.
In Gaul, Christianity won most of its new adherents in the third century
in the south-east, along the Rhone. As well as Lyons, other bishoprics
existed as early as 200 but their names are not known. Arles is first
mentioned in a reference by Cyprian , 99 and it soon became important. Its
bishop, Marcion, took part in the Roman Synod of 313; and in 314 the
town was appointed by Constantine himself as the place where the bishops’
conference should meet to discuss the Donatist problem. At this, the
Provincia Narbonensis was represented by five other bishops, whilst from
Aquitania another three bishops were present, but from the province of
Lyons, only two . 100 In short, Christianization was progressively less west
wards; missionary work only started there on a larger scale in the fourth
century. In the province of Belgica, Trier (Treves) became a bishopric in
the second half of the century ; 101 its third bishop, Agricius, was also at
Arles in 314. The fact that there were Christians at the court of Con-
stantius Chlorus in Trier, 102 is more an indication of the emperor’s
tolerance than of the size of the Christian community. The growth of the
latter became more rapid only during Constantine’s reign as sole emperor,
when the previous place of worship had to be replaced by a bigger church.
For the whole of the rest of the province of Belgica, there is no informa
tion about Christian missionary activity, so that before Constantine, there
cannot have been any successful work here.
It is true that Irenaeus already speaks of churches even in the province
of Germania ; 103 if he was thinking of organized communities under
bishops, only the Roman centres such as Cologne and Mainz could be
meant. Only in Cologne, however, is an episcopal church definitely known
to have existed before Constantine’s time; its leader, Maternus, was invited
98 On this see J. Grotz, Die Entwicklung des Bujlstufenwesens in der vornicanischen

Kirche (Freiburg i. Br. 1955), 414-27.
99 Ep. 68, 1.
100 Cf. Map 4 in F. van der Meer - C. Mohrmann, op. cit. 10.
101 M. Schuler in Trierer Zeitschrift 6 (1931), 80-103.
102 Euseb. Vita Const. 1, 16.
103 Adv. haer. 1, 10, 2.
385
to the Synods of Rome and Arles. Farther down the Rhine, excavations in
Xanten, which was then Colonia Traiana, have revealed a martyr’s shrine
and consequently proved the existence of Christians before Constantine’s
time, at least in this settlement on the lower Rhine. 104 Christians can also
be presumed, with some reason, to have existed in Germania inferior, in
Tongem, for the town was the seat of a bishopric in the first half of the
fourth century, under Bishop Servatius. In South Germany, Christians are
found only in Augsburg, where the martyrdom of St Afra is recorded. 105
The first certain evidence of the presence of Christians in the British
Isles is the account of the martyrdom of St Alban of Verulam , 106 but
this cannot be supposed to have occurred during the Diocletian persecution
because Constantius Chlorus did not permit the edict against the Christians
to be put into effect in the territories he governed. The same applies to
to the deaths for the faith of the martyrs Julius and Aron in Legionum
urbs (Caerleon), farther west. 107 However, Britian was represented by
the bishops of London, York, and, probably, Colchester at the Synod of
Arles, so that, after all, communities of some size must have developed
before the peace of Constantine began. But the real work of conversion,
with marked success, only started here, too, in the following century.
The attempt has been made to estimate in figures the results of Christian
missionary work at the beginning of the fourth century, and it has been
thought that, out of a total population in the Roman Empire at that
time of about 50 millions, there must be assumed to have been at least
7 million Christians, that is to say, nearly fifteen per cent. 108 As, however,
the proportion of Christians was not uniform everywhere in the Empire,
these figures have only a limited value. More important is the knowledge
that Christianization in many areas, such as Asia Minor, and the regions
of Edessa and Armenia, had affected half the population, while in other
provinces of the Empire, such as Egypt, along the Syrian coast, in Africa
proconsularis, and in the capital Rome and its immediate surroundings,
such a large minority held the new faith that the decisive missionary
advance of the Christian religion had in fact been made successfully in
various parts of the Empire. The fact was also important that in other
areas, such as Phoenicia, Greece, the Balkan provinces, southern Gaul and
southern Spain, as well as in northern Italy, so many missionary bases
104 Cf. W. Neuss in RQ 42 (1934), 177-82 and W. Bader in AHVNrh 144-5 (1946-7),
5-31; W. Neuss, Geschichte des Erzbistums Koln I (Koln 1964), 31-108.
105 Delehaye OC 259; Bauerreiss, 23 ff.; for the Regensburg martyrs see J. A. Fischer in
Jahrbuch fur Altbayerische Kirchengeschichte (1963), 28.
108 Bede HE I, 17ff, following older sources; cf. W. Levison, “St Alban and St Alban’s”
in Antiquity 15 (1941), 337-59.
107 Gildas, De exid. et conquestu Brit. 10.
108 Harnack Miss 946-55; L. Herding in ZKTh 62 (1934), 243-53.
386
had been won, that further development would proceed there with
comparable success. It was only in a few frontier districts in the East,
on the north and west coasts of the Black Sea, in the Alps, in the
Germanic provinces, along the Atlantic coast of Europe, and in the British
Isles, that the Christian mission was still in its infancy. Anyone who
surveyed this situation as a whole, at the beginning of the fourth century,
and assessed it, could without great difficulty be certain that the advance
of the movement of Christian belief was no longer to be stopped by the
methods of a State persecution. The young Emperor Constantine drew the
conclusion from such a realization.
The question might be raised: what intensity and depth actually had
Christian missionary work in the course of the third century? Two
phases may be distinguished in it; the long period of peace in the first
half on the century had, of course, brought the Church notable outward
gains, but the direct effect of the wave of persecution under Decian showed
that it was not consolidated by corresponding religious growth in depth.
The enormously large number of apostasies in Egypt, Asia, North Africa,
and Rome made it unmistakably clear that admission to the Church had
been granted far too optimistically and readily, when a more rigorous
catechumenate would have been justified. Some lessons were obviously
drawn from this during the second period of peace after the collapse of
the Decian persecution. The last persecution, under Diocletian, showed
a far more favourable balance sheet; and so more attention was given
to deepening the effects of missionary work.
When it is remembered that the missionary activity of the pre-Constan-
tinian Church was chiefly concerned with people who belonged to a
relatively high civilization, with rich forms of religion and a multifarious
variety of cults, it must be admitted that the results as a whole were
outstanding. Comparison with the relatively slight success of Christian
missions with culturally advanced nations of modern times, such as Japan,
or the upper classes in India, turns out entirely to the advantage of the
early Christian Church. The missionary task imposed by the founder of
the Christian religion had been taken up enthusiastically by its adherents
and, despite tribulations, sometimes of the most grievous kind, it was
prosecuted with ever renewed energy. In the third century, the thought
of missionary obligation fully prevailed in the doctrine of ecclesiastical
writers. Hippolytus expressly points out that the gospel in the first place
must be preached to the whole world . 109 Origen expresses similar thoughts,
and he was convinced that the unified Roman Empire was the providential
condition for the rapid diffusion of the gospel. 110 He knew the figure
of the regular missionary, wandering not only from town to town but
109 In Dan. comm. 4, 17. 110 Contra Cels. 8, 72; 2, 30.
387
from village to village and from place to place, to win new believers in
the Lord, receiving hospitality from well-to-do Christian men and women
but taking with him on his missionary journeys only as much as he
actually needed to live. 111 Individual Christians often felt obliged to
missionary work in their sphere of life, soldier and merchant, slave and
Christian at court, women and confessors in prison. The Christian writer,
too, was conscious of his missionary task . 112 All contributed their share,
so that a numerically large and internally strongly consolidated early
Christian Church could undergo the supreme test of the Diocletian per
secution.
Ibid. 3, 9.
112 Clement of Alex., Stromata, 1,1.
3 88
S E C T I O N TWO
The Last Attack of Paganism and the

Final Victory of the Church
C h a p t e r 28
The Intellectual Struggle against Christianity at the End

of the Third Century
W h e n Emperor Gallienus (260-8), at the beginning of his reign, put an
end to the persecution ordered by his father Valerian and adopted a series
of measures favourable to the Christians, some of these, like Bishop
Dionysius of Alexandria, indulged in extravagant hopes, that a new era
was dawning for Christianity . 1 Gallienus’ rescript was, in fact, followed
by a period of peace lasting about forty years during which the Christians
did not suffer any centrally organized persecution. They were able in
relative freedom to pursue and consolidate the internal and external
development of their society into the “great Church” of early Christian
times. Eusebius paid tribute to the years before the outbreak of the
Diocletian persecution as a time of the most extensive toleration of
Christianity and of the public expressions of its life, and emphasized three
freedoms particularly which the Christian religion was at that time
permitted to enjoy: freedom of belief, which allowed the Christians of
all social classes to profess their faith publicly; freedom of worship, which
allowed unrestricted access to Christian church services and made it
possible everywhere to build great churches; and freedom of preaching
to all, unhampered by anyone. As well as this, there was the markedly
benevolent attitude of the civil authorities, who treated the leaders of
the Christian communities with particular respect. 2
Seeing that such a phase of tolerance was followed by the Diocletian
persecution, which brought the most violent wave of oppression Christi
anity had yet experienced, the question must be put whether many
Christians did not overlook certain signs of the times and underestimate
happenings which pointed to a development less favourable to Christianity
and which make the turn of events under Diocletian intelligible.
In the first place, the situation of the Christians, even under the
emperors since Gallienus, was in no way guaranteed by law. It was
1 Cf. Euseb. HE 7, 23.

2 Ibid. 8, 1, 1-6.
389
THE LAST ATTACK OF PAGANISM
self-deception when some Christians thought that the tolerant attitude

of individual emperors, and a consequently tolerant attitude of some
high officials, had also brought about a definitive change in the mentality
of the whole non-Christian population of the empire and already ensured
final agreement with the pagan civil power. It was still possible for the
hostile sentiment of an official to strike an individual Christian with
extreme severity, for no law defended the Christian against such measures.
The account of the martyrdom of the distinguished Marinus of Caesarea
in Palestine, which Eusebius gives from his own certain knowledge, shows
that even "when the Church was everywhere at peace” a Christian could
still be brought before the court on mere denunciation and suffer execution,
simply on account of his loyalty to his faith .3 How quickly the change
of mind of an emperor could lead to a completely altered situation can
be seen, too, from the fact, guaranteed by Eusebius and Lactantius, that
even Emperor Aurelian (270-5) allowed himself to be won over against
the Christians "by certain advisers” and was preparing an edict of
persecution, the application of which was prevented only by his sudden
death . 4 This perpetual legal uncertainty shows that the period of toleration
introduced by Gallienus was very far from a transformation of the
situation as a whole such as was realized under Constantine.
It was inevitable that particularly serious consequences would in the
long run flow from a new wave of intellectual intolerance towards
Christianity which emerged among the educated, from Aurelian’s reign
onwards, and which found its exponent in the neo-Platonist Porphyry.
In Phoenicia, where he was born near Tyre, about 223, Porphyry had
already come into contact with Christianity, though it cannot be proved
that he once believed and later abandoned it, as early assertion would
have it . 5 According to his own statement, he met Origen in his youth , 6
and was able to see for himself the rapid growth in adherents to the
Christian religion in the period of peace after 260. He owed his first
philosophical and theological formation to Longinus in Athens; in 263,
when he was thirty, he came to Rome, where he became the pupil, friend,
and intellectual heir of Plotinus whose discourses he published in the
Enneads. Plotinus himself, of course, did not engage in direct controversy
with Christianity but in the second Ennead there are, nevertheless, some
references which would seem to exclude a favourable estimate of it. When
he reproached there his opponents, "the Gnostics”, with despising the
created world and with maintaining that, for them, there was a new
3 Ibid. 7, 15, 1-5.

4 Ibid. 7, 30, 20-21; Lactantius, De port. pers. 6.
6 Socrates HE, 3, 23, 37; cf. also Augustine, De civ. dei, 10, 28.
6 Euseb. HE 6, 19, 5.
390
THE INTELLECTUAL STRUGGLE AGAINST CHRISTIANITY
earth to which they would come after death, and when he pillories their
custom of “calling the worst of men their brothers ,” 7 it is impossible to
avoid the impression that it was the Christians of whom he was speaking.
With Porphyry, a negative attitude to Christianity is perceptible, even
in his early writings. In his Philosophy of the Oracles, he has a Christian
woman described, in a saying of Apollo, as unteachable and impossible to
convert; she is said to grieve for a dead God who, however, was
condemned to death by just judges; and the Jews are placed on a higher
religious level than the Christians . 8 The fifteen books Against the
Christians, on which Porphry worked from about the year 268, are
indubitably the most important contribution to the ambitious attempt of
neo-Platonism to renew Greek wisdom and religious sentiment, and to
hold the educated classes especially to them, in face of the increasingly
successful advance of Christianity. The task that he had in this way set
himself demanded for its successful accomplishment far more than Celsus’
project a hundred years before. Christianity had developed since that time
literary productions that commanded the respect even of an educated
pagan. A comprehensive discussion of the Bible was now particularly
necessary, for through Origen’s work, the Scriptures had achieved wide-
ranging influence. To his plan for a comprehensive refutation of Christi
anity, Porphyry brought, as can be seen from the fragments which survive,
genuine knowledge of the Christian Scriptures, a trained critical and
philological mind, and a considerable gift of exposition. In quite a dif
ferent way to the ’AXvjGrj? Xoyo? of Celsus, Porphyry’s work immediately
called forth Christian defences against his design. Probably even in his
lifetime the reply of Methodius of Olympus was published; Jerome
mentions it with respect; 9 then Eusebius of Caesarea brought out a
voluminous refutation in twenty-five books; 10 both, however, in the
opinion of Jerome and Philostorgius, were excelled by the performance
of Apollinaris of Laodicea in thirty books. 11 The same fate has overtaken
attacker and defenders, for all these works have completely perished.
Constantine ordered, even before the Council of Nicaea, the destruction
of the “godless writings” of Porphyry, “the enemy of true piety”, the
first example of the proscription of a written work hostile to Christianity
by the civil power; Emperor Theodosius II in 448 again ordered the
burning of all Porphyry’s writings. 12 Clearly, however, a pagan had made
a selection from Porphyry at the beginning of the fourth century,
7 Enneads II, 9, 5, 9, 14, 18.

8 Augustine, De civ. dei 19, 23.
9 De vir ill. 83; Ep. 48, 13; 70, 3.
10 Quasten P, III, 333.
11 Jerome, De vir. ill. 104; Philostorgius HE 8, 14.
12 Socrates HE 1, 9, 30; Cod. Theod. 16, 6, 66.
391
summarizing his chief objections to Christianity. Macarios Magnes, perhaps

Bishop of Magnesia, argued against this even as late as 400 in his
Apocriticus and so preserved a relatively large number of excerpts from
Porphyry . 13
Even though Porphyry did not subject the figure of Christ to such a
harsh judgment as the evangelists, the apostles, and Christians in general,
he nevertheless finds in it many features which in his estimation are
incompatible with a truly religious and heroic personality. In the first
place, Christ does not show himself to possess the divine power which
he claims for himself; he refuses out of fear, to throw himself from the
pinnacle of the Temple; he is not master of the demons; he fails
lamentably before the high priests and Pilate; and his whole Passion is
unworthy of a divine being. In comparison with him, the wonderworker
Apollonius of Tyana of the first century, is a far more impressive figure. 14
After his resurrection, Christ should have appeared, not to simple
unknown women, but to Pilate, to Herod, in fact to the Roman Senate;
he should have given his ascension a much more grandiose setting; this
would have spared his followers their harsh persecutions, for in face of
such demonstrations of divine power, all doubt of his mission would
have been silenced. 15 The evangelists are severely rejected for their
presentation of Jesus’ deeds and words, which they themselves invented
and did not experience. 16 Their accounts are full of contradictions,
inexactitudes, and absurdities and merit no belief. 17 Porphyry felt the
profoundest antipathy for the leading figures of the early Church, Peter
and Paul; Peter, he considered was in no way fitted to the high office to
which he was called — Porphyry does not in the slightest contest this
call —, and his choice was one of Christ’s worst mistakes. 18 Paul seems
to him a repulsive character; double-tongued, mendacious, perpetually
contradicting himself and perpetually correcting himself, he preaches in
his eschatology a doctrine of the end of the world, the Last Judgment,
and the resurrection of the dead, which provoked the harshest contra
diction of the neo-Platonist. 19 The opposition of Peter and Paul in the
question of the obligation of the Mosaic Law for Jewish and pagan
Christians did not escape Porphyry; but the behaviour of both showed
them up he asserts, as pitiable figures. 20
The central doctrines of the Christian faith and the essential features
of Christian worship are also decisively rejected. Christ’s doctrine demands
18 For the proof of these literary links, cf. especially A. Harnack, TU 37/4 (Leipzig
1911). Quotations will here be given from the Fragments of Porphyry in Harnack’s
edition, AAB 1916, I.
14 Fragm. 48, 49, 62, 63.
15 Fragm. 64, 65. 16 Fragm. 15. 17 Fragm. 9-17.
18 Fragm. 23-26. 19 Fragm. 27-34. 20 Fragm. 21, 22.
392
irrational faith, too large a demand for thinkers and philosophically-

trained persons.21 Christian monotheism really only thinly disguised
polytheism, for the angels also appear as divine beings.22 The doctrine of
the Incarnation fills every Greek with abhorrence, and so does the
Christian Eucharist, which Porphyry regards as a rite such as is not found
even among the most savage tribes; for him the words of Christ at John
6:54, "Except you eat the flesh of the Son of Man . . . ” are bestial, and these
words alone place St John’s Gospel far below the work of the Synoptics.23
Christian baptism, which is supposed by one washing to expunge all
faults, even the worst, of adults, can only be considered an immoral
institution inciting to new vices and wickedness.24 Christian esteem for
the poor and sick meets with absolute incomprehension and for the ideal
of Christian virginity Porphyry has nothing but mockery.25 The charac
teristic note and tone of Porphyry’s controversy with Christianity, is bitter
sarcasm; here is no open mind, striving for objective understanding of an
alien religious movement; Porphyry is very definitely taking sides in a
struggle between the civilization of antiquity and Christianity, which had
entered its decisive phase. The aim of the Christians he describes as a
“barbarous venture” 26 and he clearly approves punitive measures by the
civil authorities when he says, “what penalties could be too severe to
impose on men who abandon the laws of their country?” 27 And here,
the fate of the empire is far from being as much in the forefront of
Porphyry’s mind, as all that the intellectual and religious tradition of
Hellenism meant to him. He was irritated and embittered that Christi
anity had undertaken a threatening and surprisingly successful attack on it.
Among the Christians, Porphyry’s work was certainly felt to be
important, or it would not have provoked the rapid and effective reaction
represented by the writings that have been mentioned above. By a central
item of his attack, Porphyry even exercised very considerable indirect
influence on a definite sector of early Christian literature. His assertion
that the gospels are unworthy of belief on account of their numerous
patent contradictions, led Christian writers to give this problem special
attention and to suggest solutions in the literature of Quaestiones et
responsiones, beginning with the Quaestiones evangelicae of Eusebius of
Caesarea and leading, by way of the De consensu evangelistarum of
Augustine, down to Hesychius of Jerusalem’s collection of sixty-one such
questions.28 It is strange that Porphyry, whose hostility to Christianity
21 Fragtn. 54. 22 Fragm. 75, 76. 23 Fragm. 69. 24 Fragm. 88.

25 Fragm. 87, 58, 33.
28 Fragm. 39. 27 Fragm. 1.
28 Cf. G. Bardy, “La litterature patristique des quaestiones et responsiones sur l’^criture
sainte” in RB 41 (1932), 210-36, 341-69, 515-37; 42 (1933), 211-29; H. Dorries, Erotapo-
kriseis in RAC 6 (1964), 347-70.
393
was universally known,29 was intensively studied by Latin theologians of

later antiquity. Augustine especially could not conceal a certain sympathy
for him, a consequence of the positive influence neo-Platonism had had
on his own religious course; and he liked to think that Plato and Porphyry
“would probably both have become Christians” if they had met and had
been able to combine their views about the destiny of the soul.30
Porphyry’s book against Christians had serious consequences in pagan
upper-class circles. To many, a religion could not but appear unacceptable
which so sinned against the Logos, against clarity and against truth as,
according to his account, the doctrine and practice of the Christians did.
Above all, his work made the opposition between neo-Platonism and
Christianity unbridgeable. The claim of the latter to exclusive possession
of truth, was felt to be a denial of all that the World Logos had until
then made known to mankind.31 If a strong civil power desired once again to
take violent measures against the followers of the Christian faith, it would
encounter considerable sympathy among the educated, and a favourable
climate prepared by Porphyry.
The possibility of literary polemic against Christians being linked with
the will to actual persecution by the State was realized in the person of
Sossianus Hierocles who as a high civil servant (he was successively
Praeses of the provinces of Arabia Libanensis and Bithynia, then Prefect
of Egypt32) took up his pen and attacked Christianity in two works which
he entitled Aoyoi cptXaX7]0£t<;, with obvious reference to the work of
Celsus.33 He played an essential part in preparing the Diocletian perse
cution;34 although it cannot be determined whether or not the appearance of
his two treatises preceded its outbreak. It is true that Hierocles ostensibly
presented himself as a benevolent adviser, for, as Lactantius emphasizes,35
he spoke “to the Christians”, not against them. That this attitude was
not honest, is clear not only from the shameless treatment to which he
permitted Christian virgins to be subjected as Prefect of Egypt,36 but
also by the content of his polemical writings as reported by Lactantius.
Hierocles took his material largely from Porphyry’s work, that is evident
from the most important arguments that he deploys against the Christian
religion: the Holy Scriptures of the Christians are composed of lies and
29 Firmicus Mat., De err. prof. rel. 13, 4 calls him “hostis dei, veritatis inimicus,
sceleratarum artium magister”; Augustine, De civ. dei 9, 12: “Christianorum (sermo 242,
7: fidei christianae) acerrimus inimicus.”
30 Serm. 241, 6, 7.
81 Cf. H. Dorries, “Porphyrios” in RGG, 3rd ed. V, 463 ff.
82 On the difficulties of this career, cf. J. Moreau: Sources Chr 39 II, 292-4.
88 Lactantius, Div. inst. 5, 3, 23.
84 Lactantius, De mort. pers. 16, 4 calls him “auctor et consiliarius ad faciendam
persecutionem.” 85 Div. inst. 5, 2, 12. 88 Eusebius, De mart. Palaes. 5, 3.
394
contradiction; the apostles generally and Peter and Paul in particular,

were uneducated, ignorant men, who spread lies everywhere; Christ was
the head of a robber band of nine hundred men and his alleged miracles
were far surpassed by those of Apollonius of Tyana; finally, non-
Christians, too, believed in a highest God, the creator and sustainer of
the world.37 Hierocles’ only contribution here from his own resources is
his description of Christ as the leader of a robber band and the great
prominence given to Apollonius of Tyana, that wandering philosopher
with the aureole of legend of the first century, whose life had been written
by Philostratus at the request of the emperor’s mother Julia Domna about
the year 220.38 Perhaps in this biography Philostratus himself was trying
to present his age with a religious figure who could compare favourably
with Christ.39 That, in any case, was the sense in which the miraculous
power of Apollonius was exploited by Porphyry, so that Eusebius of
Caesarea in his reply to Hierocles made the comparison between Apol
lonius and Christ the central point of the refutation. Eusebius denied any
originality or independence to Hierocles’ work, because he thought he had
based himself on Celsus.40 Clearly, therefore, Eusebius had not yet in
his possession a copy of Porphyry’s work which was Hierocles’ real source,
and to which Eusebius himself later composed a reply.
Lactantius knew of another philosopher, teaching in his time inBithynia,
who at the beginning of the Diocletian persecution, published a work
called Three Books against the Christian Religion and Name, but it is no
longer possible to establish who he was. According to Lactantius’ brief
indication of its contents, the opportunist author, in an unctuous style,
wanted to lead back to the cult of the gods those who had strayed, and
prevent them from being exploited, in their simplicity, by unscrupulous
men. Consequently, he praised the emperors who had taken the necessary
measures to suppress a godless superstition, only worthy of old women;
he had no knowledge of the nature of the Christian religion.41 Though
Lactantius seems to attribute no great importance to the work of this
unknown philosopher, and does not appear to regard him as any special
danger to Christianity, nevertheless he was a link in the chain of general
animosity against Christianity, especially among the educated, which
characterized the atmosphere of the pagan side on the eve of the perse
cution.
As a last source of anti-Christian polemic and propaganda, the pagan
priesthood must be mentioned; it observed with understandable disquiet87
87 Lactantius, Div. inst. 5, 2, 13-15, 3-23.

38 Cf. G. Gross, “Apollonius von Tyana” in RAC I, 529-33 with bibliography.
39 Cf. P. de Labriolle, La reaction paienne (Paris 1934), 311 ff.
40 In Hieroclem 1. 41 Div. inst. 5, 2.
395
the powerful rise of the Christian movement, and inevitably felt itself
threatened in its prestige and privileges. Its influence on the renewed
friction is clear in the report of Lactantius, which is confirmed by Eusebius,
that Diocletian, who still shrank from violent persecution, sent an augur
to question the oracle of Apollo of Miletus; only the utterance of this
oracle, which was unfavourable to the Christian religion brought about,
he alleges, the decision.42 The guiding hand of the pagan priesthood is
also easy to perceive in an event that perhaps occurred even earlier. Once
when Diocletian wanted to proceed with the taking of the auguries, the
priests explained to him that they remained without effect because the
presence of “profane men” nullified them. That was a reference to the
Christians at court, and Lactantius affirms that Diocletian thereupon
prescribed a sacrifice to the gods for all at court and in the army; those
who refused were to be flogged, or expelled from the army, as the case
might be.43 It can be inferred that this method of the priesthood was not
limited to isolated cases but was employed on a wide scale, from the
reference in Arnobius the Elder with which he opens his work A d
Nationes: the atrocities already attributed earlier to the Christians would
be revived and would be exploited by augurs, soothsayers, oracle-mongers
and people of that kind, who saw their clientele evaporating.44
The features described indicate that, about 270, a wave of anti-Christian
polemic and propaganda set in which tried in the first place to win over
the educated classes, but later also influenced wider circles. This must be
counted as an essential factor in any understanding of why, at the begin
ning of the fourth century, there could still have been such a violent, yet
for paganism fundamentally hopeless, trial of strength between the power
of the Roman State and the Christian religion.
C h a p t e r 29
Outbreak and Course of the Diocletian Persecution down to Galerius’

Edict of Toleration, 311
T he growing hostility to Christianity that has just been described cannot

itself explain Diocletian’s relatively sudden transition from liberally
exercised toleration to the harshest of persecutions. The emperor practised
toleration for years, quite deliberately, for he could not have been unaware
of the Christian religion’s growing successes and its ceaselessly increasing
42 Lactantius, De mort. pers. 11, 7-8; Eusebius, Vita Const. 2, 50, 51.
43 De mort. pers. 10. 44 Arnobius, Adv. nat. 1, 24.
396
THE DIOCLETIAN PERSECUTION
power of attraction. From the imperial palace in Nicomedia he could see

an obviously representative Christian place of worship.1 The Christian
faith of high civil servants who every day were at their work around him,
could no more be unknown to him than that of numerous court officials2
or the reported, and very likely, inclination of his wife Prisca and his
daughter Valeria towards the Christian religion.3 That tolerance of the
emperor led historians of his own and of modern times largely to absolve
him from responsibility for the outbreak of the persecution. Lactantius
sees in the Caesar Galerius the driving force which practically wrung
from the vacillating Diocletian the order to proceed against the Chris
tians.4 In this he certainly contradicts himself, for in another passage as
we have seen, he names Hierocles as the “originator and adviser” in
preparing the persecution.5 In fact, a number of causes and influences were
operative which profoundly influenced Diocletian’s decision to use
measures of State compulsion, but he made the decision with full freedom
and personal responsibility. The central motive for his action can most
probably be found in a conviction that Christianity stood in the way of
the work of reconstruction which he had so successfully undertaken in the
most various spheres of life of the Roman Empire. After securing the
frontiers, strengthening the civil government and eliminating financial
difficulties at home, he now turned to the burning religious problem, the
solution of which he envisaged solely in terms of a restoration of the old
Roman religion. He referred to this as early as 295, in his edict concerning
marriage; and two years later, in his decree against the Manichees, he
described them as worthless men “who set up new and scandalous sects
against the older religions”. 6 His collaborators and advisers, such as
Galerius and Hierocles, propounded to him a solution which they thought
correct, and perhaps confirmed him in the line in which he, too, saw the
solution. The renewed mood of hostility to Christianity in the educated
upper classes and to some degree in the common people, too, seemed to
him to recommend this course. But he undertook it on his own responsi
bility.
1 Lactantius, De mort. pers. 12, 2.

2 Adauctus and Dorotheus, the first a high official in the finances, the other in the
administration of crown-lands: Euseb. HE 8, 2; 7, 22, 3; Christians employed at
court: Lactantius, De mort. pers. 10, 4.
8 De mort. pers. 15, 1.
4 Ibid. 11; Eusebius varies in his judgment on the question of responsibility, cf.
R. Laqueur, Eusebius als Historiker seiner Zeit (Berlin 1929), 77-80.
5 De mort. pers. 16, 4; Div. inst. 5, 2, 12: “qui auctor in primis faciendae persecutionis
fuit”.
6 Coll. mos. rom. leg. 6, 4, 1; 15, 3 and on this cf. J. Vogt, Constantin der Grojle und
sein Jahrhundert (Munich, 2nd ed. 1960), 123.
39 7
It is understandable that Diocletian began the fight against Christianity

by a purge of the army, for the reliability of the army was the highest
principle of Roman State power. But it was also suggested by some very
recent disturbing events. In 295 in Numidia the Christian Maximilian
had vehemently refused to be recruited, and in Mauretania three years
later the Christian centurion Marcellus refused to continue in military
service when on the anniversary of the assumption of the titles of Jovius
and Herculius by the two emperors, he would not break the vow which
bound him to Christ.7 Further incidents were caused by two veterans,
Tipasius and Julius, in 298 and 302 when, on the occasion of a special gift,
they refused the coins on which the emperors were represented as sons of
the gods. Fabius, an official in the civil administration and vexillifer of
the governor of Mauretania, refused to carry “pictures of dead men”, that
is to say, the standard with the device of the divinized emperors.8 In all
these cases the conflict had a religious foundation; the Christians in
question were not opposed to military service as such; they were refusing
to take part in an act of pagan worship, which is what the various forms
of honour paid to the emperors signified for them, after the rulers had
proclaimed themselves sons of Jupiter and Hercules. A decree issued by
Diocletian as early as 300 aimed at removing such unreliable elements
from the army; it laid down that all soldiers had to sacrifice to the gods
or leave the arm y.9 The failure of the augury already mentioned, and the
oracle given when the Milesian Apollo was consulted, then led him, after
a consultation with the Senate, to publish the general edict of February
303. This ordered in the name of the four emperors, the destruction of all
Christian places of worship, the surrender and burning of all their sacred
books, and it forbade all their assemblies for divine worship. Extremely
serious, too, was the degradation of the Christians which was laid down
by the edict; if they were in the imperial administration, they were
enslaved; notabilities among them lost the privileges of their rank, and
their offices, and all Christians in the empire were declared incapable of
performing legally valid acts.10 In Nicomedia a beginning was made by
demolishing the church opposite the palace; a Christian who, in spontaneous
indignation, tore down the edict that had been nailed up, was immediately
executed.11 Two outbreaks of fire in the imperial palace whose authors
could not be discovered, even by the harshest interrogation, made the
situation worse; the Christians in the court administration were subjected
7 The Acta of both are in Knopf-Kriiger, Ausgewahlte Martyrerakten (Tubingen, 3rd ed.
1929) 86-9.
8 Cf. W. Seston, Melanges Goguel (Paris 1950) 242 ff.
» Euseb. HE 8, 4, 2-3.
10 Lactantius, De mort. pers. 13; Euseb. HE 8, 2, 4; De mart. Palaest. proem. 1.
11 Lactantius, De mort. pers. 12 and 13; Euseb. HE 8, 5.
398
to severe tortures, then burnt or drowned; in particular, distinguished

Christians were compelled to offer sacrifice, among them Diocletian’s own
wife and daughter.12 And now the real impact of the persecution was
aimed against the clergy; in the town where Diocletian resided, Bishop
Anthimus was executed, and elsewhere, too, many clerics suffered
imprisonment or death,13 presumably because they did not comply with
a provision of the edict requiring them to hand over the sacred books.
That was certainly the reason for the decapitation of Bishop Felix of
Thibica in North Africa,14 and for the execution of a number of laity
from Numidia.15 It is true that there were those among the clergy who
failed in this, too, especially in North Africa and Rome, and they later
were stigmatized as traditores. 16 The sources do not provide a survey of
the outcome of the first edict in all parts of the empire. Being a decree
of the supreme emperor, the edict was of course addressed to the three
other members of the tetrarchy and they were expected to put it into
effect. This did happen in all parts of the empire, but with differences of
intensity. In the west, Emperor Maximian showed himself particularly
compliant, whilst his Caesar Constantius carried out the decree very
negligently in Gaul and Britain, for though he destroyed buildings he did
not imprison or put to death.17
Diocletian was soon driven further on the course he had begun. In Syria
and in the Melitene region disturbances broke out which were attributed
to the persecution.18 These occasioned a second edict which robbed the
Christian communities of their pastors, and so struck the ecclesiastical
organization at a vital spot; the prisons everywhere filled with “bishops,
priests, deacons, lectors, and exorcists”, so that no room was left for
common criminals.19 A third edict contained more detailed instructions for
proceedings against the clergy; anyone who carried out the pagan sacri
fices went free; anyone who refused was tortured and put to death.20 The
fourth and last edict, early in 304, completed the imperial legal measures
against Christians by imposing sacrifice to the gods on all of them without
exception.21 In the previous autumn, Diocletian had celebrated in Rome
12 De mort. pers. 14 and 15, 1; Euseb. HE 8, 6, 6 and on this P. Collinet in RHE 45

(1950), 136—40.
18 Euseb. HE 8, 6, 6; Lactantius, De mort. pers. 15, 2-4.
14 Account of the martyrdom in Knopf - Kruger, op. cit. 90 ff.
15 Augustine, Breviculus collat. 3, 25-7.
16 See below, chapter 30, p. 418.
17 Lactantius, De mort. pers. 15, 6-7; Euseb. HE 8, 13, 13 absolves Constantine’s father
even from this measure.
18 Euseb. HE 8, 6, 8.
19 Ibid. 8, 6, 9.
20 Ibid. 8, 6, 10.
21 Euseb. De mart. Palaest. 3, 1.
399
the twentieth anniversary of his rule, the vicennalia, and had given great
prominence in this to faith in the Roman religion which had been revived
by him. The Romans in fact were less interested in the display of serious
piety, than in the games and gifts that the vicennalia celebrations brought
with them. On his return journey from Rome to Nicomedia the emperor,
who was disappointed with the inhabitants of the ancient imperial capital,
contracted a serious illness which weighed heavily on his mind and gave
rise to profound anxiety in the imperial palace.22 Whether the fourth
edict was the result of his depression, or of the disappointing outcome of
previous measures, can scarcely be determined. Recourse was now had to
the method of Emperor Decius, and the persecution was extended to a
part of the population that numbered six to seven millions, bringing down
unspeakable suffering on them by the most brutal methods of oppression;
at the same time admitting by that very fact that success could now
only be looked for from such desperate expedients. The intensity of the
persecution did not alter when on the common abdication of the two
Augusti, Diocletian and Maximian, there began on the first of May 305,
the second tetrarchy which placed Constantius Chlorus in the West and
Galerius in the eastern part of the empire in the highest rank and con
ferred the title of Caesar on Severus and Maximinus Daia, thus passing
over young Constantine, son of Constantius, contrary to what the army
had anticipated. Since Constantius as Augustus held firm to his previous
tolerance, and as his Caesar, Severus, adopted this attitude too, it was only
during the two-year rule of Maximian and in the territory under his
jurisdiction that the edicts of persecution were systematically carried out.
The later changes in the head of the government in the West did not cut
short the toleration practised there; both Constantine, who succeeded his
father in 306, as well as Maxentius who, in the same year, ousted Severus
from power, were averse to any persecution of the Christians though from
different motives. The eastern part of the Empire, in contrast, was forced
to bear the full burden from the first edict of the year 303 until Galerius’
decree of toleration in 311; an exception was Pannonia where, after 308,
Licinius ruled as Augustus, and out of tactical considerations, desisted from
molesting his Christian subjects.
The two chief witnesses on the Diocletian persecution, Eusebius and
Lactantius, are unfortunately completely silent about the course and scope
of Maximian’s proceedings in the West. Consequently, definite details
about the names of martyrs and their home provinces are often difficult to
ascertain with certainty, though here and there the history of the cult of
the martyrs provides some evidence for the existence of individual martyrs
in this period. Even if the large number of alleged Roman martyrs
22 Lactantius, De mort. pers. 17.
40 0
mentioned in some not very trustworthy accounts, without indication of

the time of their martyrdom, cannot be ascribed in globo to the Diocletian
persecution, some of them certainly fell victims to it; the history of their
cult shows them to have been historical persons. So there is a certain
probability that St Agnes, who has been very much transfigured by legend,
was martyred at this time23 and so were Sebastian, Felix and Adauctus,
Peter and Marcellinus;24 perhaps the most important epigram of Pope
Damasus refers to the latter.25 When Eusebius says of Pope Marcellinus
(296-304), “persecution carried him off”, this phrase certainly strongly
suggests death by persecution,26 yet the lack of his name in the oldest
list of martyrs and bishops raises difficulties. There is a fragmentary but
authentic account of the interrogation and execution of the Sicilian martyr
Euplius of Catania.27 The report of Bishop Eucherius of Lyons (f about
450) regarding the martyrdom of an entirely Christian legion under its
commander Mauritius in Agaunum (Switzerland) about 286, is legendary;
in the first place, no persecution of Christians can be shown to have taken
place in the early part of the reign of Maximian and Diocletian; secondly,
there scarcely existed at that time in Roman army a self-contained Chris
tian legion like the Theban; and, finally, all other sources are completely
silent about such a spectacular occurrence.28 The number of victims was
not small in the North African provinces, and Spain, too, had a series of
m artyrs29 among whom greatest honour fell to deacon Vincentius of
Saragossa; for some names, however, an absolutely certain ascription to
the years 303 to 305 is not possible.30*32
In the Balkans, and in the eastern provinces, the persecution raged for
eight years, though with occasional local interruptions. There, Galerius
and after 305 his Caesar, Maximinus Daia, supplied the impetus; they
28 ActaSS Ian. II 350 ff.; E. Schafer, “Agnes” in RAC I, 184.

24 J. Moreau, La persecution du christianisme dans Vempire romain (Paris 1956), 120 ff.
25 In Ihm, Damasi epigr. 29; Delehaye OC 280 ff.
26 Euseb. HE 7, 32,1; cf. J. Zeiller in Fliche-Martin, 466 n. 6.
27 Critical text in P. Franchi de’ Cavalieri, Note agiografiche VII (Rome 1928), 1-46;
on this F. Corsaro, “Studi sui documenti agiografici intorno al martirio di S. Euplo” in
Orpheus 4 (London 1957), 33-62; published separately (Catania 1957).
28 Cf. D. van Berchem, Le martyre de la legion thebaine (Basle 1956); G. Curti, “La
passio Acaunensium martyrum di Eucherio di Leone” in Convivium Dominicum (Catania
1959), 297-327; L. Dupraz, Les passions de s. Maurice d'Agaune (Fribourg 1961);
H. Buttner, “Zur Diskussioi^ iiber das Martyrium der Thebiiischen Legion” in ZSKG 55
(1961), 265-74. It is not impossible that the cult of a Maurice (of Apamea perhaps)
■was transferred from the East by Bishop Theodore of Agaunum.
20 J. Zeiller in Fliche-Martin II, 467 lists the best-known names. On Vincent cf.
M. Simonetti, “Una redazione poco conosciuta della passione di s. Vincenzo” in RivAC
32 (1956), 219-41.
80 Most of them are attested for the first time in Hymns 3-5 of Prudentius, Periste-
phanon.
401
were also responsible for the cruel ingenuity of the methods of persecution.
For Palestine and Phoenicia, some of Eusebius’ reports are eye-witness
accounts and he also collected reliable information about the martyrdoms
in Egypt. There are credible accounts of some of the Illyrian martyrs, for
instance Bishop Irenaeus of Sirmium and the three women of Salonica,
Agape, Chione, and Irene.31 In the Asia Minor provinces of Cappadocia
and Pontus, the persecuted Christians were faced with particularly
inventive torturers who ironically described putting out the right eye or
maiming the left leg with red-hot iron as humane treatment and who
tried to outdo one another in discovering new brutalities.32 When it was
found that all the inhabitants of a little town in Phrygia were Christians,
they burnt it down with everybody in it.33 Eusebius includes the report of
the martyr-bishop Phileas of Thmuis about the exquisite tortures inflicted
in Egypt which exploited all the technical possibilities of those days;34 the
doubts that arise when reading this letter, as to whether such inhumanities
were even possible, can unfortunately be removed by recalling similar
events in the very recent past.
Eusebius gives us no actual information about the number of victims,
except in Palestine. From his special account of this area, it seems that the
number was less than a hundred. Elsewhere, however, the figure was
considerably higher, certainly in Egypt, for example, where Eusebius, who
clearly was closely acquainted with events there, states that ten, twenty,
or sometimes even sixty or a hundred Christians were executed on a single
day.35 Applied to the eastern provinces, with their relative density of
Christian population, this reckoning gives a total of several thousand dead.
In addition there were the numerous confessors of the faith who were
tortured at this time and dispatched to forced work in the mines.36
Eusebius mentions by name only the most distinguished victims, especially
among the clergy; for example, he notes in addition to those already
listed: the priest Lucian of Antioch, the founder of the school of theology
there; the bishops of Tyre, Sidon, and Emesa in Phoenicia; among the
prominent Palestinian martyrs are Bishop Sylvanus of Gaza and the
priest Pamphilus, “the great ornament of the church of Caesarea” ; at the
head of the Egyptian martyrs he placed Bishop Peter of Alexandria,
besides whom he also mentions by name six other bishops and three priests
of the Alexandrian community.37 It is striking that Eusebius is silent about
81 Texts in Knopf - Krttger, op. cit. 103-5, 95-100; on the latter cf. Delehaye PM 141-3.
32 Euseb. HE 8, 12, 8-10.
83 Ibid. 8, 11, 1.
84 Ibid. 8, 10, 4-10; on the martyrdom of Phileas, see F. Halkin in RHE 38 (1963),
136-9; AnBoll 81 (1963), 5-27.
35 Ibid. 8, 9, 3.
88 Ibid. 8, 12, 10. 37 Ibid. 8, 13, 1-7.
402
those who failed in the persecution; both among clergy and laity there
were those who did, as is shown by the re-emergence in Egypt of the
problem of how to treat the lapsi.
Although the manner of proceeding against the Christians, particularly
as Maximinus Daia practised it, was strongly disapproved of by many
pagans38, it was only in 308 that there was a momentary lull39 which
may have been connected with Maximinus Daia’s annoyance at Licinius’
elevation to the position of Augustus. Some of the Christians condemned
to forced labour in the mines were set free, or they were granted some
relief. Among the Christians, people were already beginning to breathe
again when Maximinus Daia introduced a new wave of oppression with
a decree ordering the rebuilding of the ruined pagan temples and
announced new detailed ordinances for the conduct of sacrifices to the
gods.40 The real turning-point came with the serious illness of the
Augustus Galerius, which seemed to the Christians only intelligible as an
intervention of divine providence. A beginning had already been made
with plans for his vicennalia when the emperor fell ill in 310 and in
the vicissitudes of his dangerously worsening condition he took to reflecting
on the scope of the whole action against the Christians. The outcome was
the edict of the year 311 ordering the cessation of the persecution through
out the empire. The text of the decree, which is reproduced by Lactantius
and, in a Greek translation, by Eusebius in his Ecclesiastical History,41
still reveals the emotion that Galerius must have experienced when he
realized that his policy of violence against the Christians, determined
upon by him from the start and energetically put into effect, had been an
error and a failure. The edict bears the names of the four rulers, but the
tone is that of Galerius, in whose mind a new understanding was only with
difficulty taking shape. It begins with the affirmation that the emperors
had in their earlier measures only the good of the State in view and had
been striving for a restoration of the old laws and Roman manner of
life and had wanted to win the Christians, too, back to these. For the
Christians had fallen away from the religion of their ancestors and in
revolutionary upheaval had made their own laws for themselves. How
ever, the edicts of persecution had not been able to bend the majority of
Christians, many of them had had to lose their life and others had become
confused. The outcome was religious anarchy in which neither the old
gods received appropriate worship nor the God of the Christians himself
received honour. In order to put an end to this state of affairs, the
38 According to Eusebius, De part. Palaest. 9, 3, many called it oppressive and excessive,

disgusting and stupid.
89 Eusebius, De mart. Palaest. 9, 1. 40 Ibid. 9, 2.
41 Lactantius, De mort. pers. 34; Euseb. HE 8, 17, 3-10.
403
emperors grant pardon and permit “Christians to exist again and to hold
their religious assemblies once more, providing that they do nothing
disturbing to public order”. 42 Another document addressed to governors is
promised, which will provide more detailed instructions for the accom
plishment of the edict. The Christians are charged to pray to their God
for the welfare of the emperor, the State and themselves.
Galerius’ edict was a document of the greatest importance; by it the
highest representative of the power of the Roman State rescinded a
religious policy which had been in force for more than two hundred years.
From now on, the Christians were relieved of the oppressive legal
uncertainty of the past; for the first time an imperial edict expressly
recognized them; their belief was no longer superstitio and religio illicita,
but by an imperial juridical pronouncement of toleration, put on the same
footing as other cults. That was more, and must have meant more, to the
Christians than all their freedom, however welcome, in the so-called
periods of peace which were devoid of any legal basis.
The two rulers in the West had no difficulties in proclaiming the edict
in their dominions; it only gave legal foundation to a state of affairs that
had already existed for some time. In the East, Maximinus did not in fact
have the text of the edict published, but he gave his prefect of the guard,
Sabinus, instructions to announce to subordinate authorities that no
Christian was any longer to be molested or punished for the practice of
his religion.43 They drew the immediate conclusion from this, at once
liberated all Christians who were in custody and recalled those who had
been condemned ad metalla. A monstrous psychological weight was lifted
from the Christians of the eastern provinces and this intensified religious
activity; the places of worship that still existed filled again, people
flocked to divine worship; in the streets cheerful groups of exiles were seen
returning home. Even those who had given way in the persecution, sought
reconciliation with the Church and asked their brethren who had stood
firm, for the help of their prayers and for readmission into their company.
Even the pagans shared the Christians’ joy and congratulated them on the
unexpected turn of events.44 This toleration, legally guaranteed, rightly
appeared to open to the Christians the gate to a brighter future.
42 De mort. pers. 34, 4: “ut denuo sint christiani et conventicula sua componant ita ut
ne quid contra disciplinam agant.”
43 Sabinus’ circular letter in Euseb. HE 9, 3-6.
44 Ibid. 9, 1, 7-11.
404
C h a p t e r 30
The Definitive Turning-Point under Constantine the Great
Reverse under Maximinus Daia

I n Galerius’ mind the edict of toleration in 311 was intended to introduce
a new state of affairs in religious matters. In his experience the God of the
Christians had proved to be a real power which was to be recognized,
together with its followers, and incorporated among the numerous religious
beliefs of the empire so that the religious peace so attained might prove a
blessing to the State and the tetrarchy ruling it. In this way the edict
corresponds to the views of a pious polytheist and adherent of the
Diocletian conception of the State such as Galerius was, and does not
need to be made intelligible by other influences brought to bear on him.
The view that the Caesar Licinius was the first to advocate the idea of
toleration and was the intellectual originator of the change in the East
because he wanted to ensure by it the favour of the Christians for his
plans of conquest in the O rient,1 finds no support in the sources. Others
have wanted to discover in Constantine the driving force which made
Galerius, in his sickness, change his religious policy.2 But such an early
and striking proof of sentiments favourable to Christianity in Constantine
would certainly have found an echo in Eusebius and Lactantius; yet they
are completely silent about it.
Galerius died a few days after the publication of the edict and Licinius
guaranteed that toleration would be observed in his dominions, but the
joy of the Christians over the freedom they had acquired was short-lived
in the eastern provinces and in Egypt. Maximinus Daia who had scarcely
concealed his inner resistance to the policy of toleration, even in the way
he announced this, returned after a few months step by step to his earlier
methods of oppressing the Christians. He began by forbidding the Chris
tians to assemble in their cemeteries3 and tried to expel them from the
larger towns. Recourse was had to other crude means, such as inspired
petitions by pagans to the emperor requesting him to forbid Christians to
stay in their towns. A leading role was played in this by the treasurer of
the city of Antioch, Theotecnus, who also spread alleged oracles calling
for the banishment of Christians from the Syrian capital and its
surroundings.4 This device set a precedent, and petitions to the emperor
1 So H. Gregoire in Revue univ. Brux. 36 (1930-1), 259-61.

2 For example, H. Lietzmann, Gescbichte der alten Kirche 3, 57, referring to E. Schwarz,
Kaiser Konstantin und die christlicbe Kirche (Leipzig, 2nd ed. 1936), 58.
8 Euseb. HE 9, 2. 4 Ibid. 9, 2-3.
405
THE FINAL VICTORY OF THE CHURCH
from all kinds of towns multiplied. Maximinus answered such addresses

with rescripts of his own which were published throughout the province
and most graciously conceded the requests.5 The towns felt most highly
honoured by the imperial answers and had the petitions and rescripts
recorded on tablets or pillars as a lasting memorial.0 One of the plaques
with its inscription has been found in the little town of Arycanda in Lycia
and bears an incomplete Latin text of the imperial rescript and the
petition, in Greek, “of the people of the Lycians and the Pamphilians”.67
The imperial propaganda against the Christians did not shrink from even
meaner methods. In Damascus an imperial official forced women of bad
repute, by threats of torture, to declare that formerly, as Christians, they
had taken part in the debaucheries in which the Christians indulged in
their places of worship. The text of this declaration was conveyed to the
emperor and on his orders published in town and country.8 Another
method of denigration consisted in fabricating documents attributed to
Pilate which were “full of blasphemies of every kind against Christ”;
they, too, at the wish of the ruler, were posted up in public and the
teachers in schools had to use them instead of textbooks and make the
children learn them by heart.9 With this harsh anti-Christian propaganda
Maximinus combined energetic reorganization of the pagan cults; all the
towns received priests and high-priests chosen from officials particularly
attached to the State.10 All these measures of the emperor quickly
recreated an atmosphere in which the officials thought themselves justified
in taking active steps against the Christians. The punishment of banish
ment from the towns was once more imposed, even if it was not fully
implemented; leading Christians were once more arrested, imprisoned and
condemned to death; death by wild beasts and by beheading were once
again used as methods of execution. Eusebius assigns to this phase of the
persecution the martyrdom of bishops Sylvanus of Emesa and Petrus of
Alexandria mentioned above, as well as the priest Lucian of Antioch.11
The situation which had become very serious again for the Christians was
relieved, however, in a surprising way by a communication from the
emperor at the end of 312, to his prefect Sabinus, of which Eusebius
provides a translation.12 The same aim, it is true, is maintained in prin
ciple, that “of recalling the population of our provinces . . . to the service
of the gods” ; the earlier measures of Diocletian and Maximian are
6 Ibid. 9, 4; 9, 7, 3-14, copy of the rescript to the city of Tyre.

6 Ibid. 9, 7, 1-2.
7 Dittenberger, Orientis Graeci inscriptiones selectae n. 569; CIL, III, n. 12132 and
13625b.
8 Euseb. HE 9, 5, 2. 9 Ibid. 9, 5, 1.
10 Ibid. 9, 4, 2. 11 Ibid. 9, 4, 3; 9, 6, 1-4.
12 Ibid. 9, 9a, 1-9.
406
THE TURNING-POINT UNDER CONSTANTINE
represented as just. Maximinus stresses that he had already given

instructions earlier not to use violence in this matter and asserts that
nobody had been banished or mishandled in the eastern territories since
then. This is contradicted by the fact that, in the same document, he had
to insist that the Christians might not be subjected to contumely and ill-
treatment but were rather to be brought back to recognize the worship of
the gods by kindness and instruction. Maximinus tries to justify his rescripts
in answer to the petitions of the towns by saying that such requests
deserved a gracious answer and that this was pleasing to the gods as
well. The letter ends with the instruction to the prefect to bring the
imperial order to the attention of all provinces. It is understandable that
after so much bitter experience, the Christians mistrusted even this limited
toleration; consequently they did not yet hold the assemblies they had
formerly been accustomed to and certainly did not dare to build new
churches or otherwise draw attention to themselves.13 They could not at
first comprehend the reasons behind Maximinus’ new line of policy. It
was determined by far-reaching events in the western parts of the Empire
which had made Constantine master of Italy and Africa after his victory
over Maxentius in October 312. The victor had immediately intervened
with Maximinus in favour of the Christians14 and the new political situation
made it advisable for him to veer into a more tolerant course. The young
Augustus of the West thus became active in religious policy in a way
that extended far beyond his own dominions. We have now to consider
his attitude to Christianity.
Constantine’s “Conversion” to Christianity

The question of Constantine’s turning to Christianity, the fact, its course
and its date, was and is hotly disputed among historians and this is
partly due to the nature of the sources capable of providing an answer.
Constantine’s own historiographer, Bishop Eusebius of Caesarea, a friend
of the emperor from 325 onwards, was (profoundly convinced of his hero’s
providential mission and he views all the events of his life, which changed
the complexion of the age, in the light of this. His Ecclesiastical History
reflects in its successive editions not only how his knowledge in particular
matters increased but also how many of his views changed in the direction
of a heightened glorification of the emperor. Certainly the Life of the
emperor attributed to Eusebius is dominated by this tendency; the
consequent suspicion has given rise to a series of conjectures, ranging from
the hypothesis of several revisions by the author and even to the suggestion18
18 Ibid. 9, 9a, 11.

14 Lactantius, De mort. pers. 37, 1; and on this, A. Piganiol in Historia 1 (1950), 86-90.
407
that it is a pseudonymous work, written only about 430.15 The reaction

against this judgment, on the Vita Constantini led to a firm defence of its
authenticity16 which recently received considerable support from a papyrus
discovery; this document from about the year 324 contains a fragment
of an edict of Constantine to the peoples of the East, quoted in the Vita
and which had been regarded by one of the harshest critics of the latter
as a plain forgery.1718
The second contemporary author, Lactantius, likewise sided with
Constantine and his appointment as tutor to the emperor’s eldest son,
Crispus, shows the degree of trust that he enjoyed with the emperor. But
for that reason he, too, is suspected of regarding Constantine in all too
glowing and therefore distorting a light. Of pagan criticism of the emperor
only a little has been preserved through his nephew Julian and the
historian Zosimus. On the other hand the discourses of panegyrists are
particularly valuable for the light they throw on the religious change in
the emperor during his transitional phase. The possibility of closer under
standing of the world of his religion is also provided by the numerous
letters and ordinances of the emperor which have been studied more
recently to considerable profit. The religious symbolism of the coinage,
too, provides an insight into the changing views of the emperor. Two
characteristics stand out even in early tradition regarding Constantine;
the passionate partisanship he aroused for and against himself, and a tend
ency to the formation of legends.18 They show that the life achievements of
this ruler influenced the lot of his contemporaries and posterity as deeply as
only those of the great figures of history can do.
There is little in the sources about the childhood and youth of Constan
tine or of his religious development at that period. Constantius and
Helena, his parents, were certainly pagans at the time of his birth in 285.
His attachment to his mother was deep and lasting. The former inn
keeper19 was not Constantius’ legal wife, for higher officers were not
allowed to marry native women of the province. A few years after
Constantine’s birth, his father left her in order to contract a socially
appropriate marriage with Theodora, the step-daughter of Maximian. The
15 Cf. most recent survey in K. Aland, “Die religiose Haltung Kaiser Konstantins” in
Kirchengeschichtliche Entwiirfe (Gutersloh 1960), 205-15.
18 Especially by J. Vogt in Historia 2 (1953), 463-71; P. Franchi de’ Cavalieri,
Constantiniana (Rome 1953), 51-65; F. Vittinghoff, “Eusebius als Verfasser der Vita
Constantini” in RhMus 96 (1953), 330-73.
17 See A. H. M. Jones in JEH 5 (1954), 196-200 and K. Aland in FF 28 (1954), 213-17.
18 On Constantine’s posthumous history, see E. Ewig in HJ 75 (1956), 1-46; W. Kaegi
in Schweiz. Zeitschr. fur Geschichte 8 (1958), 289-326; H. Wolfram in M lOG 68 (1960),
226-43.
19 Ambrose, De obit. Theodos. 42, states she was a stabularia.
408
son presumably remained at first with his mother Helena and probably
received his first religious impressions from her as a consequence. She was
gifted above the average. Through her son she later made her way to
Christianity;20 and when he became sole ruler, Constantine was able to
give her the position of first lady in the empire and she filled it to
perfection.21 It is questionable whether any marked influences of a religious
kind came to Constantine from his father; it would be possible to recall
Constantius’ striking independence in relation to the official religious
policy of the Diocletian tetrarchy. He never appeared particularly in
the role of a client of Hercules; he rather felt leanings towards Mars,
who was specially honoured in his dominions.22 His aloofness in regard
to the policy of edicts of severe persecution has already been mentioned.
It permits the inference that he deliberately rejected all compulsion in
religious matters. Eusebius characterized Constantius as an adherent of
monotheism23 and so probably viewed the emperor as a representative
of the religious trend in the third century which gave increasing predom
inance to the one divine Being, the summus deus which transcended
all other deities. Positive relations of Constantius’ family to Christian
circles are perhaps indicated by the name Anastasia given to one of his
daughters, for at that time it was only found among Christians or Jews;24
another of his daughters, Constantia, later showed herself a convinced
Christian. At any rate the general atmosphere of Constantine’s father’s
house was rather well-disposed towards Christians and that is how
Constantine found it when in 305 he went to his father in the West after
his flight from Nicomedia. Other strong influences must also, however,
be reckoned with those which he received in his impressionable years as
a youth at the court of Diocletian, where he lived through the outbreak
and severity of the persecution of the Christians and perhaps even then
felt its questionableness. When in 306 Constantine was elevated by his
father’s troops to the position of Augustus, he maintained his father’s
religious policy, one of far-reaching toleration towards his Christian
subjects and of conscious independence of the rulers in the East. Whether,
as Lactantius seems to suppose, he issued a general edict of toleration when
he took over power,25 must remain an open question, but it is not
impossible that, in isolated cases, he expressly assured Christian commu
nities of their freedom of worship.
20 Eusebius, "Vita Const. 3, 47.

21 Ibid. 3, 42-5.
22 Cf. the examination of coins minted by him in H. von Schoenebeck, Beitragc znr
Religionspolitik des Maxentius und Constantin (Leipzig 1939), 31 ff.
23 Vita Const. 1 , 17.
24 Cf. H. Lietzmann, “Der Glaube Konstantins des Groften” in SAB 29 (1937), 268.
25 De mort. pers. 24, 9; cf. J. Moreau in his commentary on this work, 343 ff.
409
It was of fundamental importance that Constantine at this time was

notably alive to the religious question. He linked his personal religious
sentiment quite definitely to a mission entrusted to him by the divinity
for the whole empire. That became apparent in the year 310 when the
fall of Maximian placed him in a situation that called for a fresh decision.
The devices on coins show that Constantine at that time freed himself
from the theology of the tetrarchy by choosing as his special patron-god,
instead of Hercules, the sol invictus;26 this expressed a new political
conception. The sun-god was worshipped in all parts of the empire in
different forms, in Gaul as Apollo, by the troops as Mithras; he was the
god of the whole empire, as Aurelian had already regarded him. The
emperor who placed himself under his protection and experienced his
assistance was thereby called to determine the destinies of the whole
empire. These ideas are indicated in the panegyric pronounced in 310 in
Trier in the emperor’s presence.27 In this, Constantine’s claim to rule was
no longer based on his belonging to the tetrarchan system, but was justified
by his descent from an imperial line; the patron of this dynasty and of
its present member was said to be Apollo who had revealed himself in a
unique way to Constantine. On a visit to a shrine of Apollo in Gaul,
he was declared to have seen the god with Victoria and they had given
him a laurel wreath with the figures XXX and so had promised Constan
tine victory and long life.28 This was an announcement of the emperor’s
claim to universal dominion and his patron god was the sol invictus in
the form of the Gallic Apollo.
Constantine took the first step towards the realization of his idea in the
autumn of 312 when, against the advice of his entourage, he took the
field against the usurper Maxentius, then master of Italy and Africa, and
whose troops outnumbered his. Previously he had obtained Licinius’
agreement to this undertaking and promised him the hand of his sister
Constantia in return. It would be a mistake to interpret the background
to this conflict as though Maxentius were an oppressor of the Christians
and Constantine their champion. In fact Maxentius had tried to win over
the Christians by going beyond what was laid down in the Galerian
edict of 311 and restoring to the Christian community in Rome at the
beginning of 312 its confiscated property.29 N or did Constantine’s propa
ganda make out Maxentius to be a persecutor of Christians, but described
him as a tyrant, plundering and oppressing his subjects and from whose
26 H. von Schoenebeck, op. cit. 24-6 and A. Piganiol, Uempereur Constantin (Paris 1932),
22-7.
27 Paneg. 7 in E. Galletier, Panegyrici latini, 2 vols. (Paris 1949-52).
28 Ibid. 7, 21; cf. H. Kraft, “Kaiser Konstantin und das Bischofsamt” in Saeculum 8
(1957), lOff.
29 H. v. Schoenebeck, op. cit. 4-23.
410
yoke Rome ought to be set free. In a rapid onset Constantine overran

Maxentius’ defences which extended in echelon as far as the Alps, brought
the whole of Northern Italy under his sway and approached the city
of Rome which his opponent intended to defend as his last stronghold.
The decision turned in Constantine’s favour at the battle of the Milvian
Bridge to the north of the city on October 28, 312. Maxentius lost throne
and life, and the way was open for Constantine into the Western capital
consecrated by tradition. He was in possession of the whole of Western
Europe and had victoriously concluded the first stage of his journey to
universal rule.30
This campaign was followed by Constantine’s decisive turning to the
God of the Christians, to which contemporary Christian writers, pagan
panegyrists, and Constantine’s behaviour directly after the victory all
testify.
The first report of it is given by Lactantius31 who says that Constantine
had been exhorted in a dream to put God’s heavenly sign on his soldiers’
shields and so give battle. The emperor followed this instruction, he says,
and made them put an abbreviation for “Christus” on their shields by
bending the upper end of the letter X placed sideways. This statement of
Lactantius is in itself quite clear. It describes the sign drawn on the shields
as an X stood on its side, that is, + , which, by having its top arm bent
over was changed to a , that is to say a crux monogrammatica, a sign
which at that time was not unknown to the Christians as well as their
real Christ m o n o g ra m ^ , 32 Lactantius does not claim that what he relates
was a miraculous occurrence. A dream of the emperor, which in view of
the situation shortly before the battle was quite an understandable one,
was the cause of the instruction, which was easy to carry out and the
significance of which could be easily understood by all: emperor and army
were not taking the field as usual, under a pagan magical sign, but under
the protection of the God of the Christians. The victorious outcome
showed that the Christian God had brought about this decision and that
he now must be recognized as a divine patron. That was the picture of
the remarkable event that was current in the emperor’s entourage when
Lactantius in 318 published his book On the Manner of Death of the
Persecutors. Lactantius did not permit himself any interpretation of the
psychological foundation of this event and it is most certainly impossible
30 Cf. for the course of the campaign, E. Stein, Geschichte des spatromischen Reiches,
1 (Vienna 1928), 139 ff. and J. Vogt, Constantin der Grofle und sein Jahrhundert
(Munich, 2nd ed. 1960), 155-60.
81 De mort. pers. 44: “Commonitus est in quiete Constantinus ut caeleste signum dei
notaret in scutis atque ita proelium committeret. Facit ut iussus est et transversa littera
X summo capite circumflexo Christum notat.”
82 Cf. C. Cecchelli, II triunfo della Croce (Rome 1954), 65-79 and 151-70.
411
for the modern historian to reconstruct this; the fact can only be accepted.
There are no grounds for emending Lactantius’ text,33 for it is clear in
itself and there is certainly no ground at all to look for a literary model
of his report and to claim to find this in the pagan panegyrist who
reported Constantine’s visit to the shrine of Apollo in Gaul in 310;34
neither in form nor in content can this narrative be claimed as a basis
for Lactantius’ story.
The same event is clearly at the bottom of the account given by
Eusebius about twenty-five years later in his biography of the emperor,35
but how much more extensive it is now, in comparison with Lactantius’
brief report! According to Eusebius, Constantine wanted to wage the
campaign against Maxentius under his father’s protector-god and prayed
to him to reveal himself and grant his aid. Straightaway the emperor and
the army saw in the late afternoon “in the sky above the sun the radiant
victory sign of the cross”, and near this the words: “By this, conquer:
TouTfp vixa **. The following night, Christ appeared to him with the cross
and told him to have it copied 2nd to carry it as protection in war. The
emperor had a standard made according to his specifications; a long shaft
with a cross-bar ending in a circle which bore in the middle the monogram
of Christ, J>|^, such as Constantine later had attached to his helmet, too.
A rectangular banner hung down from the cross-bar and above this on
the shaft were fixed the images of the emperor and his sons. Eusebius
appeals to the fact that he had seen this banner himself36 and this could
not have happened before 325 when his closer relations with the emperor
began. At that time, however, the banner had already become the imperial
standard, which was later called the labarum.*7It is noteworthy that
Eusebius does not give this report of the vision of the cross in the last
edition of his Ecclesiastical History (about 324). The conclusion that
strongly suggests itself, that he knew nothing about it, and that as a
consequence it was added to the Vita Constantini by another hand later
on, is, however, excluded because Eusebius clearly refers to the vision of
the cross in his speech on the anniversary of the emperor’s accession in
335 and also says in the Ecclesiastical History that at the beginning of his
campaign against Maxentius, Constantine had prayed and appealed to
Christ for help.38 Consequently in the Vita he gives the version of what
had happened as this took shape in Constantine’s mind after a certain
83 As J. Moreau does in his edition, 1, 127.

84 So H. Gr^goire and his school.
85 Vita Constant. 1, 27-32.
88 Ibid. 1, 30.
87 First found in Prudentius, Contra Symm. 1, 486, probably derived from laurus,
laurel; cf. H. Grigoire in Byz(B) 12 (1937), 227-81.
88 Euseb. Trie. 6; HE 9, 9, 2.
412
lapse of time from the event itself and in the transfiguring light of the
memory of his victorious course. The accessory details dressing it out in
legendary fashion must not, however, distract the view from the essential
kernel common to both reports. Constantine was convinced that the sign
of the cross had been revealed to him at the beginning of his campaign
against Maxentius; he had changed it into the monogram of Christ and
with his help had triumphed over his opponent who trusted to the power
of the pagan gods. His veneration for Christ as his protector-god was
due to this event and it occasioned his turning to Christianity.
The question arises whether and in what form this turning found
expression in Constantine’s still pagan entourage. In the autumn of 313
in Trier, the pagan panegyrist celebrated Constantine’s victory over
Maxentius and in accordance with tradition, had to speak of the god
who had given victory. It is striking that the speaker does not name him,
but says that Constantine in agreement with the god present to him and
with whom he was linked by a profound secret, had taken the field,
despite the fears of his officers, because this god had promised victory.39
A god who is near, who conveys direct instructions to his proteg£,40 who
secretly encourages him and assures him of victory, are all forms of
expression which were intelligible to Christians as well as to educated
people of neo-Platonic views; they indicate the way in which Constantine
conveyed his experience to those around him. Even more important, the
same speaker, in his description of the solemn entry of Constantine into
Rome, does not mention the traditional procession of the victor to the
Capitol and the usual sacrifice there to Jupiter: evidently the emperor
omitted it and so again proclaimed that he owed his victory to another
god.41 This is also in agreement with another break with the usual pagan
practice of taking the omens by examining entrails; Maxentius had done
this before the battle, but Constantine, the panegyrist points out, trusted
to his god’s instructions.42 The panegyrist conveys a strong impression
that after his victory over Maxentius, Constantine moved away from the
customary pagan worship.
The triumphal arch in Rome, dedicated to the emperor after his victory
by the Roman Senate and completed in 315, was naturally decorated with
carvings which corresponded to the ideas of the pagan senate; the latter
regarded the sol invictus as the emperor’s protector-god and consequently
had Constantine represented as entering the city in triumph with the
89 Paneg. 9, 2, 4-5; 9, 3, 3.
40 Ibid. 9, 4, 4: divina praecepta.
41 Ibid. 9, 19, 3, and cf. especially J. Straub in Historia 4 (1955), 297-313; in a contrary
sense, F. Altheim in ZRGG 9 (1957), 221-31.
42 Ibid. 9, 2, 4; 9, 4, 4, and on this H. Dorries, Das Selbstzeugnis Kaiser Konstantins
(Gottingen 1954), 248 ff.
413
attitude and gesture of the sun-god.43 The inscription on the triumphal

arch is more reserved and does not mention his god’s name but ascribes
the victory to an “inspiration of the divinity” and the emperor’s greatness
of soul.44 Here this divinity is still the neo-Platonic “highest being”, but
could also be understood by Christians in their sense.
Another monument is of greater importance; it too was intended to
commemorate the victory and Constantine’s view of it. This is the statue
of the emperor in the Forum, bearing in the right hand, on Constantine’s
personal directions, “the sign of suffering that brought salvation”. The
inscription is due to Constantine’s own initiative and explains the sign
in his hand. “By this salutary sign, the true proof of power, I saved and
freed your city from the yoke of the tyrant and gave back to the Senate
and Roman people, as well as freedom, their ancient dignity and their
ancient glory.” 45 In view of this emphatic indication of the inscription,
there can be no question of its being the usual vexillum in the emperor’s
hand which the Christians had then interpreted in the form of a cross;46
it is the signum caeleste dei of Lactantius, the Christian cross, probably in
the form of the monogram. Consequently this statue is not only a novelty
by its form, being the first example of an emperor’s statue with a stan
dard,47 but it expresses in a particularly clear manner both Constantine’s
conviction that he had been led by this standard, and his will publicly
to proclaim this.
Finally the process of turning towards Christianity, even in a very
qualified way, is indicated in the coins Constantine had struck. Christian
symbols gradually appear beside the images of the old divinities especially
the sol invictus, which can be traced on coins down to the year 322. From
Ticinum a silver medallion struck on the occasion of the decennalia of 315
shows the helmeted head of Constantine bearing a clear Christ monogram
^ on the crest of the helmet.48 Coinages from the Siscia mint have, after
317-18, the same sign on the emperor’s helmet, and from 320 on, coins
appear with the Christ monogram in the field next to the vexillum.49
43 Cf. H. P. L’Orange-A. v. Gerkan, Der spatantike Bildschmuck des Konstantinbogens

(Berlin 1939).
44 In Dessau, Inscriptions latinae selectae n. 694: “instinctu divinitatis — mentis
magnitudine.” 45 Euseb. HE 9, 9, 10-11; cf. Vita Const. 1 , 40 and Trie. 9, 8.
46 So H. Gr^goire in Antiquite classique 1 (1932), 141-3.
47 Cf. A. Alfoldi in Pisciculi 11; P. Franchi de’ Cavalieri, Constantiniana (Rome 1953),
98-100. Recently the possibility is seriously entertained that the gigantic head of
Constantine in the Palazzo dei Conservatori belongs to this statue; cf. H. Kaehler:
Jdl 67 (1952), 1-30 and C. Cecchelli, op. cit. 13-40.
48 Illustrations in Pisciculi plates 1 and 2, and see also A. Alfoldi, ibid. 4ff. and
Studies in Honour of A. C. Johnson (Princeton 1951), 303-11; better illustrations in
H. Kraft, Kaiser Constantins religiose Entwicklung (Tubingen 1955), 35-58.
49 Cf. H: v. Schoenebeck, op. cit. 35-58.
414
Even though the introduction of the significant Christ symbol among the
devices on coins was slow, it was not possible without the emperor’s
approval. Even if it is regarded as nothing more than a proof of the
neutral attitude of an emperor who was now taking Christianity into
account as well as paganism, nevertheless the use of the Christ monogram
on the helmet can scarcely be interpreted otherwise than as a personal
proclamation of Constantine himself.
O f considerable significance, too, for the emperor’s attitude to Christian
ity were some measures directly connected with the victory of October
312. That very same year a letter must have gone from Constantine to
Maximinus calling for an end to persecution of Christians in the eastern
regions. It has already been shown how this wish was carried out.50 Are
we to suppose that the emperor was only impelled to this rapid step
because he was anxious to inform Maximinus that he regarded himself as
the highest Augustus? Similarly in the same year 312, he commanded in
a letter to prefect Anullinus in North Africa that confiscated Church
property should be restored.51 Another letter was addressed directly to
the Catholic Bishop of Carthage, Caecilian, who received quite a large
sum for the clergy "of the lawful and most holy Catholic religion”. 52
Both measures go far beyond the intention of the edict of Galerius and
the second already shows the emperor taking special interest in the
liturgical concerns of the Catholic Church. This may have been awakened
in him by the Spanish bishop, Ossius of Cordova, who appears already in
this letter as Constantine’s adviser on Church affairs. The Church’s
worship forms the centre of a third very important document53 which
freed the clergy of the Carthaginian church from obligation to public
service so that they might devote themselves unhindered to the perfor
mance of the liturgy. Constantine gave as a reason for this measure,
appealing as he did so to the lessons of experience, that neglect of the
worship of God had brought the State into grave danger, whereas its
careful observance would bring happiness and prosperity. In adopting
this position it is quite clear that, in the emperor, opinions drawn from
the Roman conception of religion were struggling with new religious ideas;
Constantine has become aware of the importance of Christian worship
even if no understanding of its real content is perceptible. He feels
obliged not merely to ensure freedom for this worship, for that was
done by the edict of Galerius, but to ensure its exact and worthy
accomplishment, because he sees in it a condition for the success of the
work he has begun.
50 See above, pages 406-7. 51 Euseb. HE 10, 5, 15-7.

52 Ibid. 10, 6, 1-5.
53 Ibid. 10, 7, 1-2, and on this Dorries, op. cit. 18 ff.; H. Kraft, op. cit. 164 ff.
415
The features of Constantine’s proceedings in regard to Christianity in

the year 312-13, which have been discussed, vary, it is true, in evidential
force. Taken as a whole they nevertheless impose the conclusion that
during this period Constantine had accomplished his personal turning to
Christianity. By themselves and quite apart from the further measures
belonging to the emperor’s religious policy until the beginning of his
period of rule as sole emperor, they exclude the date 324 as the beginning
of this change. Constantine’s “conversion” must, it is true, only be under
stood in the sense of a “turning” founded on a recognition which perhaps
had already been maturing in him for some time, that the God of the
Christians alone had a claim to the worship due to the highest Being.
The features mentioned do not themselves permit us to judge how far
Constantine had advanced towards an understanding of the Christian
message of redemption, or to what extent he had made principles of
Christian ethics the guiding standard of his personal activity.
From the Convention of Milan, 313, to the Beginning of Sole Rule, 324
In February 313 Constantine and Licinius met in Milan to discuss the
new political situation created by the former’s victory. The marriage
between Licinius and Constantia was also then celebrated. In regard to
religious matters, discussions led to a settlement which, however, did not
find expression in the form of an Edict of Milan, as was formerly
thought.54 But it is clear that this agreement was not merely concerned
with putting into effect the measure of toleration laid down by the
edict of Galerius;55 it rather involved in principle a substantial extension
of this as a comparison of the Galerian text with the content of two
decrees of Licinius published after his victory over Maximinus Daia will
show. One of them is dated from Nicomedia and Lactantius gives the
Latin text;56 the other is in Eusebius57 and was probably intended for
Palestine. The Latin document, which diverges slightly from the Greek
in Eusebius, opens with a direct allusion to the negotiations between
Constantine and Licinius in Milan. It is stressed in the first place that
the emperor intends to settle the religious question by toleration: everyone,
including Christians, had full freedom to follow the religion he preferred;
that would be a guarantee for continued favour from the summa divinitas.
Then, however, come a series of special ordinances for the Christian
Church, which, by their content, intensity of insistence and tone of
54 Cf. J.-R. Palanque, “A propos du pr£tendu £dit de Milan” in Byz(B) 10 (1935),

607-16, and H. Nesselhauf, “Das Toleranzgesetz des Licinius” in HJ 74 (1955), 44-61.
55 So J. Moreau in Annales Univ. Sarav. 2 (1953), 100-05.
56 De mort. pers. 48, 2-12. 57 HE 10, 5, 1-14.
416
THE TURNING-PO INT UNDER CONSTANTINE
respectful goodwill, far exceeded Galerius’ grudging grant of toleration.

All places in which the Christians had been accustomed to assemble, that
is, churches and cemeteries, were returned to them without charge, whether
they were in public or private possession.58*Moreover this property was
to be conveyed directly to the various Christian communities, whose
corporate legal existence was thereby recognized.50 Finally a conviction is
expressed which would have been quite impossible with Galerius; that
through this treatment of the Christian religion, the divine favour, that
the emperors had experienced in such great matters, would continue for
ever in its beneficial effect on public welfare.60 There is little likelihood of
mistake if the allusion to divine favour is understood as referring to the
successes of Constantine’s campaign. The special decrees about Church
property correspond to the measures that Constantine had already adopted
for Africa, and reveal the part he played in the making of the Milan
agreement. The latter can be considered as the religious policy which
he was chiefly striving to carry out. The benefits it accorded could not,
however, be enjoyed by the Christians of the eastern provinces and Egypt,
until the conflict between Licinius and Maximinus, which still persisted,
had been brought to an end. The latter sought a quick military decision
when, early in 313, he moved to the Balkans at a moment when he knew
that Constantine was occupied by his war with the Franks of the Rhine.
Lactantius represents the battle between the two rulers as a religious war;
he describes Maximinus making a vow to Jupiter before the battle that
in case of victory he would destroy the Christian name; an angel reveals
to Licinius a prayer to the summus deus which would bring him victory
if it were recited before the battle by the whole army.61 The prayer is
neutral in content; perhaps the only Christian element being the angel
who reveals it. Maximinus was decisively defeated at Adrianople and
harried by Licinius in a rapid pursuit which struck deeply into Asia Minor.
Fie still tried to win the sympathies of his Christian subjects by an edict
of unrestricted toleration,62 and prepared for a new battle. His death in
Tarsus in the autumn of 313 abruptly ended the struggle and brought all
the eastern territories under Licinius’ authority and the Milan agreement.
The conqueror showed little magnanimity to the family and closest
supporters of Maximinus; they were mercilessly exterminated, among them
Diocletian’s wife and daughter who had sought Maximinus’ protection.
The conquest of the oriental territories brought Licinius an enormous
increase of power and Constantine had to postpone for the moment his
ultimate aim of establishing a universal Roman rule. The two Augusti
58 Lactantius, De mort. pers. 48, 7.

69 Ibid. 48, 8-9.
60 Ibid. 48, 11. 61 Ibid. 45-7. 62 Euseb. HE 9, 10, 7-11.
417
occupied themselves first with consolidating and strengthening what had

been won. In the religious question, Licinius maintained the principles of
the Milan agreement; Constantine, with his mental alertness, already saw
the approach of a problem and a task which were to attract him more and
more as time went on: that of bringing the Christian Church closer to
the State, of discovering a form of mutual relation for them which would
correspond to his view of their respective missions. These views changed
and became clearer in a process that took some time. He moved to a
solution through the experience afforded him by his gradually deepening
penetration into the specific nature of the Christian world and the ques
tions belonging to it. He encountered them for the first time on a large
scale through developments within the Church in North Africa which,
shortly before his victory, had led to a profound split among adherents
of Christianity there. The beginnings of the Donatist movement must be
here recalled because they explain the personal attitude of the emperor to
the Christian religion; a connected account and evaluation of it will only
be possible later.
The superficial occasion of the Donatist schism was the question of
church discipline regarding what judgment was to be passed on the action
of Christians who had handed over the Holy Scriptures to the pagan
authorities in the Diocletian persecution. One group among those who had
remained faithful regarded it as grave betrayal of the faith and called
the guilty traditores; among the latter were laymen, clerics, and even
bishops. The question became theologically important when it was linked
to the particular opinion traditional in North African theology, according
to which the validity of a sacrament depended on the state of grace of
its minister; consequently the sacraments conferred by a traditor, an
apostate ultimately, could not be regarded as valid. The controversy
became extremely acute when it was involved in the personal difficulties
provoked by the quarrel about the succession to Bishop Mensurius of
Carthage. In 312 when Caecilian, who had previously been deacon of
Carthage, was called to the see, one group in the church which felt slighted
because of the sharp treatment of one of its most influential members,
whom Caecilian had criticized for his over-enthusiastic cult of the
martyrs, pointed out that one of those who had consecrated him bishop,
Felix of Aptungi, had been a traditor. The case was taken up by the first
Bishop of Numidia, Secundus of Tigisis, and brought before a synod of
seventy Numidian bishops, which declared Caecilian deposed. In this
action of the Numidian episcopate, a certain rivalry with Carthage no
doubt also played its part. First, Majorinus became rival bishop to
Caecilian and then, after 313, Donatus, the real intellectual head of the
opposition, from whom the rapidly developing schismatical church, the
pars Donati, took its name.
418
When Constantine in 312 sought information about the situation in his

newly acquired territories, he found himself faced by this complicated
situation, very difficult for an outsider to grasp in its ultimate connexions,
and even more difficult to comprehend on account of the hostility of both
groups, embittered by personal rancour. He probably received his first
report from the point of view of Caecilian’s supporters, perhaps from
Bishop Ossius, who very early showed himself to be well-informed about
the African clergy. O f course, Constantine at that time could not under
stand the dogmatic background to the dispute, but he immediately
recognized its adverse effects on the unity of the Christian society and
strove as occasion offered to restore that unity. In the first place he saw
that by the dissension the correct accomplishment of Christian worship
was no longer assured, and this, as has already been indicated, was of
particular concern to him. Consequently he was ready to make the help
of State officials available to bring back into line the disturbers of the
peace, for that is how the Donatists chiefly appeared to him .83 Thereupon
the Donatists addressed themselves directly to the emperor, handed in a
memorandum through proconsul Anullinus, explaining their attitude to
Caecilian and asking for the dispute to be settled by Gallic judges.6364
Constantine accepted this suggestion and turned to the Bishop of Rome,
Miltiades, informing him what he had decided in the matter: Caecilian was
to come to Rome with ten bishops of his choice and so was his opponent;
there an ecclesiastical court consisting of Miltiades and three bishops of
Gaul, those of Arles, Autun, and Cologne, was to hear the case and give
judgment. The emperor stressed that the inquiry into Caecilian must
determine whether he answered to ecclesiastical requirements “which are
to be held in high respect”. Finally, he affirmed that he had the greatest
reverence for the Catholic Church and did not wish any division to be
found in it anywhere.65
It is clear from this document that the emperor realized he was in a
position which in many respects was completely novel to him. A Christian
denomination had invoked the help of the civil power and requested the
appointment of impartial judges. The emperor tended to think in legal
terms and could not refuse such a request but was it possible for him to
hand over such a purely ecclesiastical question to a civil court? Constantine
decided on episcopal judges, leaving the matter, therefore, in ecclesiastical
hands and hoping that in that way peace would be restored.66 There can
63 Letter to Bishop Caecilian, ibid. 10, 6, 1-5; in H. v. Soden, Urkunden zur Ent-
stehungsgeschichte des Donatismus (Berlin, 2nd ed. 1950), no. 8.
64 See Soden, op. cit. nos. 10 and 11.
#s Soden, op. cit. n. 12; cf. H. Kraft, op. cit. 166-9.
66 On the legal aspect of the matter, see H. U. Instinsky, Bischofsstuhl und Kaiserthron
(Munich 1955), 59-82.
419
be no question, therefore, of any presumptuous intervention of imperial

authority in the internal affairs of the Church, but the intense interest of
the emperor in the restoration of peace within the Church is unmistakable.
Miltiades invited, and this can scarcely have been contrary to the
emperor’s intentions, a further fifteen Italian bishops to the proceedings,
clearly as members of a larger consilium, such as was customary for
decisions of far-reaching importance.67 The unanimous verdict of the
court pronounced Donatus guilty and confirmed Caecilian as legitimate
Bishop of Carthage. The Donatists, however, contested the judgment on
the ground of defects of procedure, and the emperor found himself
obliged to have the matter dealt with once more. The proceedings were
conducted this time in Arles in the summer of 314 on a much bigger scale
and with the assistance of numerous bishops, the imperial postal service
being put at their disposal for the journey.
In the emperor’s letter of invitation a double advance in his under
standing of Christianity may be observed. He now sees the Church as a
society which, in fraternal harmony, accomplishes by its rites the true
worship of God.68 Anyone who does not respect the unity of this society
endangers his salvation; so the Church is felt to be a means to salvation.
The emperor knows that he is on the side of this society when he claims
for himself and for Aelafius, who was known to be a Christian, the
designation of cultor dei, which here may be taken as a substitute for
christianus.69 He does not yet feel himself to be a complete member of the
Church, but he fears for her reputation and her universal mission when
he points out that the quarrels of Christians among themselves hold back
from her the followers of the pagan religion. When Constantine says that,
furthermore, he himself could be brought to account by the summa
divinitas if he were to ignore the divisions in the Church and that he
would only be tranquil again when the fraternal harmony was restored,
his growing personal attachment to the Church is manifest. A more
personal relation to the bishops was forming, too, for in his letter to those
taking part in the Synod of Arles, he addressed them for the first time
with what was after that to be his habitual mode, as carissimi fratres;70
and he asks with feeling for their prayers "that our Redeemer may always
have mercy on me”.71
67 Instinsky argues this convincingly, Bischofsstuhl und Kaiserthron (Munich 1955), 77 ff.
68 Soden, op. cit. n. 15; H. Kraft, op. cit. 170 ff.
69 H. Kraft, op. cit. 54 ff., and Soden, op. cit. no. 14.
70 Soden, op. cit. no 18, and on this H. Kraft, op. cit. 184-191 and Saeculum 8 (1957),
40 ff.
71 Ibid, conclusion: “meique mementote, ut mei salvator noster semper misereatur.” The
central part of this letter cannot be made use of, for it is suspected of being an
interpolation, cf. H. Kraft, op. cit. 186-9.
420
After the unsuccessful outcome of the Synod of Arles, Constantine

decided after all to end the Donatist schism by his own means. His attempt
at pacification met with no success when he first of all refused to allow
the Donatist delegation to Arles to return to Africa. He was also frustrated
in his effort to install another bishop in Carthage instead of Caecilian.
In a threatening tone the emperor announced to both parties that he was
going to come to Africa himself and proclaimed his aim of leading all
men to the true religion and the worthy worship of Almighty God.7273
In this letter to the vicarius Celsus, the Christian ruler’s consciousness of
his mission is expressed with perfect clarity: it is the emperor’s task
(munus principis) to remove all error, to be solicitous for the preaching
of the true religion, to maintain concord and ensure divine worship; and
the vera religio to which the emperor knows he is bound, is Christianity
alone. Constantine did, after all, desist from a journey to Africa, but
in a letter at the end of the year 316, plainly took the side of Caecilian
and his supporters.78 When disturbances occurred, from 317 onwards,
he sent in troops, had Donatist bishops exiled, and their churches seized,
but this only created martyrs and the sense of martyrdom until he resigned
the struggle.74 Constantine had to learn early, by experience, that divisions
in Christendom are only embittered by the attempt to remove them by
means of the civil power; even though his attempt sprang from the
conviction that he had to take that way to save the unity of the Christian
Church, as an obligation of his function as ruler. At the same time,
however, dangerous possibilities are already visible which arose for the
Church from the sense of mission of a Christian ruler who thought himself
justified by a religious call to intervene directly in the Church’s own
essential concerns.
This gradual and growing attachment of the emperor for Christianity
was accompanied by certain laws which revealed the influence of Christian
ideas or restricted the influence of pagan religious activity.
The general line of Constantine’s legislation shows increasing regard
for the dignity of the human person;7576this is seen in an ordinance of the
year 315 forbidding the branding on the face of those condemned to
forced labour or to the amphitheatre,70 for the human face may not be
disfigured as it is formed to the likeness of heavenly beauty. The biblical
and Christian character of this explanation is unmistakable. A similarly
humanitarian tendency combines with respectful recognition of those in
72 Soden, op. cit. no. 23; To the vicarius Celsus, final sentence.
73 Soden, op. cit. no. 25.
74 Cf. W. H. C. Frend, The Donatist Church (Oxford 1952), 159-62.
75 Cf. J. J. Van de Casteele, “Indices d’une mentality chrdtienne dans la legislation
civile de Constantin” in Bulletin Assoc. G. Bude 14 (1955), 68-74.
76 Cod. Theod. IX 40, 2.
421
charge of the Christian communities, in an ordinance addressed to Bishop

Ossius which declares that Christians could free their slaves in the
presence of the bishop with full legal validity, and clerics likewise, in
certain cases, without written documents and without witnesses.77 As the
liberation had to take place “in the bosom of the Church” it is treated
as an action of religious significance. Similar regard for the episcopal
office is expressed in the important decision allowing Christian bishops
to set up a court of arbitration, even for civil cases, if the parties to a
dispute make application to the judge to have their case transferred to
one. And what lex Christiana then decides has the force of law .78 The
law freeing those who were unmarried and without children from certain
obligations may rightly be regarded as framed with the ascetics of the
Christian Church in view.79 Of decisive importance was Constantine’s
Sunday law, March-July 321, ordering cessation from work in the courts
and from manual labour on this “venerable day”.80 The religious quality
of the day makes it appropriate to distinguish it by particularly pious
works such as the liberation of slaves, which could be attested on a Sunday
by an official document. There is no question of seeing in the dies solis
here a day dedicated to the sun; the introduction of a civil holiday on
the first day of the week was plainly intended honourably to distinguish
the Lord’s day of the Christian Church, an essential feature of its liturgy.
A special favour granted to the Catholic Church is represented by the
edict which allowed anyone the right to bequeath in his will whatever
he liked to the Catholic community.81 There was no such provision for
Jewish or schismatic communities.
Certain legal provisions were necessary to protect the right to free
profession of religion laid down in the Convention of Milan, in its
detailed application to Christianity. Christian converts from Judaism
who were molested by their former co-religionists receive the special
protection of the law .82 Only the Catholic faith is considered here to be
caltus dei; neither Judaism nor paganism can claim to possess it.83 An
actual incident formed the basis of a law of May 323 imposing the
penalty of flogging or heavy fine on those who compelled members of
the Christian community, whether clerics or laity, to take part in the
pagan lustral sacrifice.84 It is significant that Constantine here no longer
designated the pagan religion as such by a neutral term, but characterized
it pejoratively as superstitio. When in Lucania the clerical privilege of
77 Ibid. IV 8, 1. 78 Ibid. I 27, 1. 79 Ibid. VIII 16, 1.

80 Cod. Theod. II 8, la and II 8, 1.
81 Ibid. XVI 2, 4. 82 Ibid. XVI 8, 1.
83 Cf. H. Dorries, op. cit. 170.
84 Cod. Theod. XVI 2, 5.
422
immunity was not respected by pagans, Constantine reemphasized this;8586

the expressions he uses, again entail plain value judgments on the old and
the new religions and make his own position quite evident: the clergy, he
says, devote their pious activity to the worship of God, whilst the impious
hostility of the pagans aims at impeding them in this function.
Finally a restriction of the extent to which pagan religion could be
practised was introduced by the double decree on divination in 319 and
320,80 which forbade under strict penalties the practice of this custom
in private. This cannot have concerned the abolition of an abuse, for
divination in public remained permissible. But it was precisely in private
life that divination made possible for pagans an effective propaganda
for their religion and one that escaped all control. Through restriction to
public divination a check was ensured and the possibility of secret
propaganda eliminated.87
These laws from the time when Constantine was sole ruler confirm
the picture already drawn. The emperor was under the influence of
Christian ideas, his concern for the accomplishment of Christian worship
sprang from an inner personal interest and in this or that case a preference
for the Christian religion is perceptible. Of particular importance is the
unmistakable tendency of the emperor to call on the moral and religious
values of the Christian religion and the authority of the Christian church
leaders, for the benefit of the State. As a consequence, various features
of the public life of the age already receive a Christian stamp. His attitude
to paganism is in principle tolerant, but in the law against augury the
first limitation of its freedom of action is seen.
The struggle for sole rule in the Roman Empire, which had been
impending for some time between Licinius and Constantine, was to take
the latter an important step further on the road to public and personal
recognition of the Christian religion. A first military clash in Pannonia
and Thrace in the autumn of 31688 gave no decision, but the gains of
territory in the Balkans that it brought to Constantine and the recognition
of his two eldest sons as Caesares notably strengthened his position for
the now inevitable final confrontation. The struggle, though ultimately
concerned with the claims to the political leadership of the empire, never
theless assumed the character of a religious war that was finally to decide
the victory or the defeat of Christianity. Licinius had maintained the
provisions of the Convention of Milan in his dominions since 313,89
85 Ibid. XVI 2, 2.
88 Ibid. IX 16, 1; XVI 10, 1.
87 Cf. on this H. Karpp, “Konstantins Gesetze gegen die private Haruspizin” in ZNW
41 (1942), 145-51.
88 On this dating see C. Habicht, “Zur Geschichte des Kaisers Konstantin” in Hermes
86 (1958), 360-78. 89 Euseb. HE 10, 2.
423
although by doing so he had not, like Constantine, intended to bring

the Christian Church nearer to the State or even commit various public
tasks to it. The marked favour shown to Christianity by the Augustus
of the West, led Licinius gradually to diverge from the line of religious
policy laid down in Milan, and after about 320 to exert pressure
increasingly on the Christians in the East. Freedoms previously enjoyed
were not expressly revoked, it is true, but petty bureaucratic restrictions
were put on them; on freedom of worship, for example, by forbidding
Christian church services inside towns or in enclosed places or by requiring
separate services for men and women. Freedom of preaching was restricted
by forbidding the clergy to give instruction in the Christian faith to
women, and charitable activity in favour of those in prison was ham
pered.90 More serious still was the abolition of freedom of belief when
Christians were dismissed from the army or administration.91 Finally
came measures aimed at the Church’s organization; synodal assemblies
of bishops were forbidden.92 It is not surprising that the sympathies and
hopes of Christians in Asia Minor and the Near East turned to the
Augustus in the West. The resentment of high officials was vented in
violent measures. In Pontus some places of worship were closed and others
demolished; some bishops were arrested, others banished; some were
condemned to death and executed,93 although no general persecution was
ordered. When after massive preparations, war broke out in the summer
of 324, Constantine deliberately gave it a Christian stamp by giving the
army the now fully developed labarum as a standard in battle, whilst
Licinius questioned the pagan oracles and implored the help of the gods
by sacrifices.94 Constantine’s victories in battle at Adrianople and on the
Bosphorus in July and at Chrysopolis in Asia Minor in September 324,
forced Licinius to capitulate and accept negotiations with Constantine.
The latter spared Licinius’ life at the request of his wife Constantia and
assigned Thessalonica as his place of detention, but later had him executed,
ostensibly for treasonable plotting.
Constantine’s complete victory and the position of sole ruler which it
gave him, almost inevitably introduced a new phase of religious policy,
for he was not now hampered by need to take into consideration the
differing views of a fellow-ruler or rival. The Christians, especially in
the East, looked forward with intense expectation to what was to come.
Eusebius speaks in the final section of his Ecclesiastical History of the
days of rejoicing with which the emperor’s victory was celebrated. He,
too, saw clearly what possibilities a unified Roman Empire directed by
90 Ibid. 10, 8, 11; Vita Const. 1, 53 and 54.

91 Euseb. HE 10, 8, 10; Vita Const. 1, 54.
92 Vita Const. 1, 51. 93 HE 10, 8,13-17. 94 Vita Const. 2,4.
424
an emperor well-disposed towards Christianity could open for the

Christian faith; “people rejoiced about present benefits and looked forward
to future ones”. 95 The first proclamations of the victorious emperor were of
such a kind as to confirm these hopes. A comprehensive decree concerning
the inhabitants of the eastern provinces at once cancelled the wrong done
to the Christians in the time of persecution, and provided generous
compensation.96 More important still are those sections of the document
in which Constantine explained the significance of recent events as the
great battle for recognition of the Christian God who revealed his might
in the success of Constantine’s army. He stated that God had chosen him
as his instrument in order “to lead (the nations) to the service of the
holiest law and to spread the most blessed faith” and that not only are
thanks due to the most high God for that, but: “I owe him my whole soul,
every breath and every stirring of my mind, wholly and completely.” 97 The
earlier consciousness of a mission has now been replaced by a bold knowledge
of his election which in future was to mark all the emperor’s acts. The
decree ends with the exhortation to serve “the divine law”, that is to say,
Christianity, with all reverence.98 Constantine’s personal profession of
Christianity is expressed even more plainly in a second communication
to the eastern provinces in which the pride of the victor is mingled with
thanksgiving for divine election.99 Here Constantine turns in prayer to
God: “Under your guidance I have begun and completed these salutary
deeds. I had your sign carried before us and so led the army to glorious
victories; and if any necessity of the State should require it, I shall
follow the same dispositions of your power and do battle against your
enemies. For that I have consecrated my soul to you; . . . I love your
name and honour your power which you made known by many signs and
so strengthened my faith. I long to set to work and build up again for
you the holiest of houses.” 100 The final words vividly express the intense
drive of the emperor standing in the full possession of his powers; he
had a clearly defined aim, the restoration of the Christian Church. The
same document also shows the calibre of the victorious emperor as a
statesman; he will not persecute adherents of paganism or force them to
become Christians; freedom of conscientious decision is guaranteed: “Each
must hold what his heart bids him.” 101 Only the future could show
whether Constantine would stand by this, and the programme it
represented.
85 HE 10, 9, 6-8; Vita Const. 2,19.

86 Vita Const. 2, 30-41.
87 Ibid. 2, 28-9. 856788 Ibid. 2, 42.
88 Ibid. 2, 48-60. 108 Ibid. 2, 55. 101 Ibid. 2, 56.
4 25
C h a p te r 31
The Causes of the Victory of the Christian Religion.

The Scope and Import of the Turning-Point under Constantine
T he turning-point in the history of the Church which was reached when

the first Christian emperor became sole ruler, raises two questions of great
importance for a right understanding of the whole situation of the Church
at the beginning of the fourth century.
1. The first question regarding the causes of the final success of Christianity
in its conflict both with the rival religious currents of late Antiquity and
with the power of the Roman State as well has often been formulated
and has received very divergent replies. A very superficial one attempts
to explain the victory of Christianity by the process of decay in which
the civilization of later Antiquity was involved at precisely that time;
this is alleged to have given syncretist Christianity a fundamentally
easy triumph over a world in dissolution.1 This view is blind to what
properly characterizes Christianity as a religion, and only postpones the
problem, for at once a new question arises, why in that case did Christi
anity survive in the general disintegration, and not one of the other
religious movements of the age? It is just as difficult to understand the
final Christian success if this is viewed as the victory of a proletarian
revolution in a class-war over the upper-class which until then had
dominated the Roman Empire.2 It is true that Celsus had already
reproached Christianity for having a particular attraction for the lowest
and uneducated social classes of the empire’s population,3 but all Christian
preaching of pre-Constantinian times shows plainly that it was deliberately
addressed to all classes and all races in identical fashion. In fact, this
universality of the Church can rightly be regarded as one of the factors
that were particularly effective in bringing about the final success of the
Christian religion. But the question remains, what were the reasons for
the attraction exercised by Christianity on all social classes and on all
nations.
Another answer to the question regards the support given to Christi
anity by Constantine as the real reason for its success. Such a view of
1 The first exponent of the “decadence theory” was E. Gibbon, who passionately
advocated it in the History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire; it was put
forward in a modified form by F. Altheim, Literatur und Gesellschaft im ausgehenden
Altertum (Halle 1948), 16.
2 So, for example, A. J. Toynbee, A Study of History, 1, 57ff.; and likewise Marxist
histories.
426
CAUSES AND CONSEQUENCES
things, however, confuses cause and effect; Constantine acted from insight
into the actual victory already achieved by Christianity when he first
tolerated and then favoured it. His immediate predecessors, the persecuting
emperors, realized that their persecutions had failed, even Diocletian
himself, perhaps, and certainly Gallienus and Maximinus Daia, and so
did Maxentius, though he was not himself a persecutor; they only drew
the logical conclusions from this realization, against their will and too
late. Sooner or later some emperor after Constantine would have had
to seek an understanding with the victorious Church. Constantine’s
decisive act and what logically followed, his religious policy favourable
to the Christians, certainly made the Church’s task very much easier,
but they do not explain the Church’s victory.
The answers which seek an explanation in an element within the Church
itself are closer to the facts of the case. Attention has rightly been directed,
for example, to the above average level of morals and character reached
by most followers of Christianity, which was proof against the heaviest
trials. The fact of actual or at least always extremely possible persecution
subjected candidates for baptism to an inexorable selection which provided
the various Christian communities with a considerable percentage of
members whose quality is scarcely paralleled in the history of the Church.
The teaching in the catechumenate made it clear to them that adherence
to Christianity demanded a radical break with their previous manner
of life; anyone who made this break did so from a deep conviction of faith
which was the source of his strength in the hour of trial. The failure of
many Christians in the Decian and Diocletian persecutions does not
contradict this; the frank admission of such losses by Dionysius of
Alexandria and Cyprian of Carthage and their efforts to heal the wounds
caused in the Church by too indiscriminate a reception of candidates for
baptism in the period of peace, attest the serious determination of the
Church as a whole to maintain the high level in her communities. The
pagan world was also impressed by the attitude of the Christians towards
their persecutors, for whom they entertained no feelings of revenge or
desires for reprisals. The comprehensive charitable work of the early
Christian Church as a whole also represented a strong attraction. Here,
too, the question remains open what the ultimate root of this attitude
and these high moral qualities was.
There is a good deal of truth in the view which attributes the success
of Christianity to the values which it had to offer to a late Hellenistic
world which in religious matters was in a state of unrest and inquiry.
It is correct that Christianity could often advance into a spiritual vacuum
which it filled with the message, proclaimed with a joyful certainty, of
the new and unique way to salvation founded on a divine revelation. But
this Christian message of salvation must have been characterized by an
427
ultimate, definite quality of its own which enabled it to gain the advantage
over Gnosticism, neo-Platonism, or the pagan mystery-cults, for these,
too, claimed to come forward with the means of bringing the fulfilment
of its longings to the human soul seeking salvation.
Augustine in the seventh book of the Confessions points the way to
a real answer to the question of the ultimate cause of the Christian victory.
He says that in the writings of the Platonists he found many assertions
that he met with again later in Christian doctrine; but neo-Platonism
could not in the long run hold him, because it was unaware of the sentence
in the Gospel of St John: “The Word was made flesh and dwelt amongst
us.” 4 It was the message of the incarnate God and the conception of
humilitas that has its ultimate roots in the Incarnation which, according
to Augustine’s own words, made him a Christian. This locates the decisive
reason which led to the victory of Christianity, the source from which
all the other factors previously mentioned received their force in the
person of Jesus Christ and the message proclaimed by him; this by its
unique character and absolute novelty left all other religious trends of
the age far behind it. It is not difficult to perceive in the third century
historical sources the unique fascination, and the power appealing to all
the capacities of the human heart that is exerted by the person of Christ.
Belief in his mission bound the first disciples to him, faith in his redemptive
death on the cross, hope in the resurrection promised by him, are the
ultimate reason for the enthusiasm of the original community, the success
of Paul’s missionary preaching, and the joyful readiness of the Christian
martyrs to die as witnesses. The origin of this belief, its intensity and
its inexhaustible vitality cannot be explained by historical means, but
its existence and radiating force are plainly perceptible in its effects. By
faith in the God-man, Jesus’ followers joined in a society of brotherly
love which, in a way never known before, abolished all social and racial
barriers between men. The impression that the vitality and strength of
Christianity had their roots in Jesus Christ was what in the final resort
led Constantine to recognize the God of the Christians. It was similarly
that absolutely new thing in his message which won the men and women of
later Antiquity in increasing proportions for him. Its central content was
the proclamation of the Incarnation of the only-begotten Son of God and
his redemptive death of atonement on the cross; and the very contradiction
aroused in pagans by the doctrine of a crucified God, shows plainly how
absolutely new this message was felt to be. The way in which mankind
was to share through baptism and Eucharist in the salvation won by
Christ’s death on the cross was also moral. It was a new demand that
the genuineness of a man’s belief in this redeemer had to be proved by
* Conf. 7, 9, 14.
428
a life imitating his, extending even to the sacrifice of life itself, and
finally it was a new message that Jesus brought of another world in which
human beings after their resurrection will be united with their Lord in
an eternal life. Irenaeus expressed accurately the feelings of pre-Constan-
tinian Christendom: “He brought all that is new by bringing himself.” 5
It was this whole experience of novelty and originality, conveyed to the
men of late Antiquity by the message and person of Christ, that we must
consider as the deepest historically perceptible reason leading to Christi
anity’s triumph over the resistances which opposed it in the first three
hundred years of its existence. The Christian believer sees in this event
the disposition of divine Providence which accompanied the young Church
throughout all the heights and depths of the first decisive part of its
journey.
2. The second question regarding the scope and import of the “Constan-
tinian turning-point” has often been raised, and at the present time forms
the central topic of a vigorous discussion6 which unfortunately lends the
theme something of a catchword character. There is general agreement
that the complete change in the relation between Christian Church and
Roman State wrought by Constantine was an event of first importance
in the history of the world. In the estimate of its scope and consequences
for Christianity in particular, however, opinions differ considerably
according to the philosophical standpoint or the conception of the Church
held by those who are attempting to judge. Some see its significance in
the fact that the Roman emperor succeeded, by his alliance with the
Church, in making that Church serviceable to the State, and so founded
the system of Caesaropapism which held the Church in degrading
dependence on the State, and which was the never really seriously con
tested practice of the Byzantine world. The Church is said to have been at
fault through her silence in the face of such enslavement and to have
herself contributed to narrowing her effective possibilities in regard to her
divine mission. Others see in Constantine’s favour and the privileges
accorded to the Christian religion the first step on the road of a fateful
deviation that has persisted down to the present day; the Church authori
ties are alleged not to have withstood temptation to power and to have
bolstered their position with secular privileges, to have striven for
dominion over secular spheres of civilization alien to the Church’s mission;
and so as a power-seeking Church to have destroyed both the credibility
of her claim to a religious mission and the impact of her missionary
endeavours. Both judgments agree in viewing the attitude of the Church
5 Adv. haer. 4, 34, 1.

8 On this discussion, see H. Rahner, “Konstantinische Wende?” in StdZt 167 (1960-1),
419-28, and the bibliography he gives.
429
at the “Constantinian turning-point” as a decline from the ideal of the

gospel, in which opposition to the world, separation of secular and
ecclesiastical authority, and the renunciation of the use of earthly power
in the fulfilment of her missionary task are considered, on this view, to be
essential. An estimate of the “Constantinian turning-point” based on
criteria drawn from sources contemporary with that development might,
however, lead to the following conclusions.
The closer relation brought about between the Christian religion and
the Roman State had not, as a matter of fact, the radically revolutionary
character that is sometimes attributed to it. As we have already seen, pre-
Constantinian Christendom had already sought a tolerable relation even
towards the pagan State because, as St Paul had taught (Rom 13:1-7),
behind every secular power the will of God was discerned.7 The numerous
contacts in the course of the third century between followers of the Chris
tian religion and representatives of the Roman State clearly reveal a
development that would lead to mutual recognition and the collaboration
of the two societies. The toleration of all religions laid down by Constan
tine and Licinius in the Convention of Milan in 313 could not, in the
conception of that period, be of long duration. Religion and the State in
late Antiquity were not known except as related to one another in prin
ciple. It would have been revolutionary if the Roman emperor and State
had made absolute neutrality in regard to all religious cults a lasting
principle of its policy and had been uninterested in any relations at all
between the State and religion. The idea of a State necessarily neutral in
religious matters in the context of a pluralist society, is an anachronism
for the beginning of the fourth century. Consequently it was a perfectly
normal way of thinking for Christians of the time to expect that under
an emperor whose sincere conversion to their faith was not to be doubted,
Christianity would gradually take the place of pagan worship. And that,
in addition, their affections fixed on that emperor with unreflecting
enthusiasm, is psychologically perfectly understandable. The Christians of
the eastern territories of the empire, especially, had years of most severe
mental and nervous strain behind them; one wave of persecution after
another had broken over them from the very beginning of the century;
the hope for peace that sprang up when persecution slackened was
suddenly and bitterly disappointed again and again as violent oppression
flamed up once more. Then with Constantine an emperor who was of their
faith became sole ruler and gave every guarantee for the beginning of a
lasting peace. Inevitably that released an overwhelming flood of enthusiasm
which Eusebius voiced when he opened the Tenth Book of his Ecclesiastical
History with the cry of exultation from Psalm 97: “Sing ye to the
1 See above pp. 316-18 for the statements of Christian writers of the time on this question.
430
Lord a new canticle, for He hath done wondrous things” 8. Second thoughts
about a deviation or aberration in development were all the more absent
because the biblical sayings about civil authority being willed by God were
applied precisely to the new situation and the anointed king of the Old
Testament was seen as the model for Constantine who, just like the former,
bore responsibility for a correct worship of God by the nations subject
to him.9 It is asking too much of bishops of that time who attributed such
a theocratic value to the Christian emperor to expect them to have seen
immediately the dangers that objectively were involved in the new relation
developing between Church and State and to look for prophetic warnings
from any of them. Insight into the presence of such dangers could only
be gained by experience and only then did a decision of the Church on the
problem of the relation between Christian State and Christian Church fall
due.
The positive as well as negative possibilities that presented themselves
for the Christian Church at the beginning of Constantine’s period of sole
rule may be summarized as follows. The freedom granted to the Church
released strong forces that could be devoted to the unhampered building-
up of life within the Church. Freedom of worship and of preaching
within the Church was guaranteed by law. New conditions were created
for the worthy performance of the liturgy through the possibility for
reconstruction and the erection of new Christian places of worship which
were generously accorded by the State. The religious care for the faithful
in the various forms of catechetical instruction, preaching and sacramental
life was no longer subject to any restriction. New and attractive tasks
appeared for ecclesiastical writers in unhampered work in pastoral and
theological literature. The missionary function of the Church was likewise
no longer impeded by any restrictions and was able to develop in a
particularly fruitful way, for freedom of conscience was guaranteed in the
profession of a religious faith.
It was now also possible for the Church to undertake the enormous
task of christianizing secular culture and public life and to develop and
give a Christian stamp to an intellectual life of her own. The Church did
not feel this task to be in any way a problematic one, for ideas of the
independence of secular culture and civilization were alien to her. Here
the Church faced perhaps her most radical task of adaptation. Previously
she had lived consciously at a distance from the cultural world around
her and had withdrawn from the completely pagan public life into her
own specific moral and religious domain which was easier to preserve in
8 HE 10, 1, 3.
9 Cf. S. L. Greenslade, Church and State from Constantine to Theodosius (London
1954), llf f .
431
complete isolation. Freedom now led her out of this separate existence but
as a consequence, exposed her at the same time to risk; in the attempt to
penetrate secular civilization with Christian ideas, she became more
vulnerable to alien elements which could adulterate her belief and her
morality. This imposed heavy responsibility on Christian leaders.
A danger for the high moral and religious standard of the Christian
communities was created by the favour shown by Constantine to the
Christian religion: people could now seek admission to the Church because
adherence to Christianity offered social and professional advantages. The
principle of selection that had been effective in times of persecution ceased
to exist and the institution of the catechumenate became more important
than ever.
Objectively the most difficult task to which the Church was set was the
discovery of the right mental attitude to the new relation of Church and
State. The double danger present was not, as we have already indicated,
consciously realized from the start. Eusebius was still quite unconcerned
and full of praise for Constantine when reporting that now, "the bishops
received imperial documents and honours and subsidies”. 10 It must have
been a temptation for many bishops especially in the East, after being
oppressed for so long, to sun themselves in the imperial favour and so lose
their freedom. More dangerous was the tendency, deriving from the
emperor’s view, not to consider the Church as a partner sui generis, but
to make her serviceable to the interests of the State and so to stifle her
independence and necessary freedom in the realm of internal Church
affairs. It has, of course, been said that Pope Miltiades recognized this
tendency of the emperor even in the early phase of the Donatist dispute
when Constantine refused to regard the verdict passed by the Roman
bishop’s court on the Donatist leaders as final and ordered the matter to
be dealt with again,11 but the sources say nothing definite about this. Only
the bitter experiences under Emperor Constantius could give the episcopate
some idea of how exceedingly difficult it could be to achieve a healthy,
fruitful equilibrium in the mutual relations between a State under Christian
leadership and the Catholic Church.
10 HE 10, 2.
11 For example, B. Lohse, “Kaiser und Papst im Donatistenstreit” in Ecclesia und Res
Publica, Festschrift fur K. D. Schmidt (Gottingen 1961), 85-88.
432
B O O O G R A .P H Y
B I B L I O G R A P H Y TO T H E G E N E R A L I N T R O D U C T I O N
I. The Subject Matter, Methods, Ancillary Sciences, and Divisions

of Church History, dwt/ its Relevance for Today
S u b je c t M atter
J.A. Mohler, Einleitung in die Kirchengeschichte: Ges. Schriften und Aufsatze, ed. by
J. J. I. Dollinger, II (Regensburg 1840), 261-90; A. Ehrhard, “Die historische Theologie
und ihre Methode” in Festschrift S. Merkle (Diisseldorf 1922), 117-36; E. Muller, “Die
Kirchengeschichte. Die Darstellung der Lebensaufierungen der Kirche in ihrer zeitlichen
Entwicklung imAufbau der Theologie” in 3. Lektorenkonferenz der deutschen Franziskaner
1925 (Munster 1926), 95-108; P. Guilday, An Introduction to Church History (St Louis
1925) ;K. Adam, “Das Problem des Geschichtlichen im Leben der Kirche” in ThQ 128 (1948),
257-300; P. Simon, Das Menschliche in der Kirche Christi (Freiburg i.Br. 1948); H. Jedin,
“Zur Aufgabe des Kirchengeschichtsschreibers” in TThZ 61 (1952), 65-78; J.Lortz, “Noch-
mals zur Aufgabe des Kirchengeschichtsschreibers” ibid. 317-27; H. Jedin, “Kirchen
geschichte als Heilsgeschichte?” in Saeculum 5 (1954), 119-28; O. Kohler, “Der Gegenstand
der Kirchengeschichte” in HJ 77 (1958), 254-69; G. Gieraths, Kirche in der Geschichte
(Essen 1959); J. Wodka, Das Mysterium der Kirche in kirchengeschichtlicher Sicht:
Mysterium Kirche, ed. by F. Holbock and T. Sartory (Salzburg 1962), 347-477 (Large
bibliography). Protestant Works: E. Seeberg, Uber Bewegungsgesetze der Welt- und
Kirchengeschichte (Berlin 1924); W. Kohler, Histone und Metahistorie in der Kirchen
geschichte (Tubingen 1930); H. Karpp, “Kirchengeschichte als Theologische Disziplin” in
Festschrift R. Bultmann (Stuttgart 1949), 149-67; E. Benz, “Weltgeschichte, Kirchen
geschichte und Missionsgeschichte” in HZ 173 (1952), 1-32; J. Chambon, Was ist Kirchen
geschichte? (Gottingen 1957); D. Forbes, The Liberal Anglican Idea of History (Cambridge
1952); P. Meinhold, “Weltgeschichte - Kirchengeschichte - Heilsgeschichte” in Saeculum 9
(1958), 261-81 (good bibliography); E. Benz, Kirchengeschichte in okumenischer Sicht
(Leiden-Cologne 1961); M. Schmidt in RGG, 3rd ed. Ill, 1421-33.
T he T heology of H istory at the present time: J. Wach, “Die Geschichtsphilosophie des

19. Jh. und die Theologie der Geschichte” in HZ 142 (1930), 1-15; J. Bernhard, Der Sinn
der Geschichte (Freiburg i.Br. 1931); H. Rahner, “Grundziige katholischer Geschichts-
theologie” in StdZ 140 (1947), 408-27; K.Thieme, Gott und die Geschichte (Freiburg i. Br.
1948); H. Urs v. Balthasar, Theology of History (New York 1963); J. Endres, “Die Gren-
zen des Geschichtlichen” in DTh 30 (1952), 73-110; J. Dani^lou, The Lord of History
(Chicago 1958); J. Maritain, On the Philosophy of History (New York 1957); A. Dempf,
Weltordnung und Heilsgeschehen (Einsiedeln 1958); J. Moller, “Die Frage nach der Tran-
szendenz der Geschichte” in Festgabe J. Lortz II (Baden-Baden 1958), 567-84; O. Kohler,
“Der neue Aon” in Saeculum 12 (1961), 181-204 (discussion on recent literature). —
Protestant Works: N. Berdyaev, The Meaning of History (New York 1936); P. Tillich,
The Interpretation of History (New York 1936); E. Rust, The Christian Understanding
of History (London 1947); H. Butterfield, Christianity and History (London 1949);
435
BIBLIOGRAPHY
K. Lowith, Meaning in History (Chicago 1949); R. Niebuhr, Faith and History: A Com
parison of Christian and Modern Views of History (New York 1951); E. Harbison, “The
Meaning of History and the Writing of History” in CH 21 (1952), 97-107; C. Fabro,
“La storiografia nel pensiero cristiano” in Grande antologia filosofica 5 (Milan 1954),
311-503 (with Italian translation of patristic and medieval texts); W. Kamlah, Christen-
tum und Geschichtlichkeit (Stuttgart, 2nd ed. 1951); H. Berkhof, Der Sinn der Geschichte:
Cbristus (Gottingen 1962); S Mead, “Church History Explained” in CH 32 (1963), 17-31.
E cclesiology, as far as it concerns the historical element: H. de Lubac, The Splendor of

the Church (New York 1956); J. Beumer, “Ein neuer, mehrschichtiger Kirchenbegriff” in
TThZ 56 (1956), 93-102; S. Saki, Des tendences nouvelles de Vecclesiologie (Rome 1957);
K.Rahner, The Dynamic Element in the Church (London-New York 1964); K.Rahner and
J. Ratzinger, The Episcopate and the Primacy (Freiburg-London-New York 1962);
J. Auer, “Das Leibmodell und der Kirchenbegriff der katholischen Kirche” in MThZ 12
(1961), 14-38; “Sentire Ecclesiam” in Festschrift H.Rahner ed. J. Danielou and H. Vor-
grimler (Freiburg i. Br. 1961).
M ethods
J. G. Droysen, Historik, ed. by R. Hiibner (Darmstadt, 3rd ed. 1958); C. de Smedt, Prin-
cipes de la critique historique (Liege 1883); E. Bernheim, Lehrbuch der historischen Me-
thode (Leipzig, 6th ed. 1914, new impression 1960); H. Feder, Lehrbuch der historischen
Methode (Regensburg, 3rd ed. 1924); L. E. Halkin, Critique historique (Liege, 4th ed.
1959); W. Bauer, Einfiihrung in das Studium der Geschichte (Tubingen, 2nd ed. 1928;
new imp. Frankfurt a. M. 1961); L. Gottschalk, Understanding History (New York 1950);
G. Garraghan, A Guide to Historical Method (New York, 3rd ed. 1951). The following
develop their methods from the writing of history: M. Ritter, Die Entwicklung der Ge-
schichtswissenschaft (Munich-Berlin 1919); F. Wagner, Geschichtswissenschaft (Freiburg
i. Br. 1951). K. Erslev, Historische Technik (Munich-Berlin 1928); H. Nabholz, Ein-
fiihrung in das Studium der mittelalterlichen und der neueren Geschichte (Zurich 1948);
H. Quirin, Einfiihrung in das Studium der mittelalterlichen Geschichte (Brunswick, 2nd
ed. 1961); L. Halphen, Initiation aux etudes d'histoire du moyen age (Paris, 3rd ed.
1952); G. Wolf, Einfiihrung in das Studium der neueren Geschichte (Berlin 1910). The
views of the French school of social history are represented by the collection Uhistoire
et ses methodes, ed. by C. Samaran (Paris 1962).
A ncillary S ciences
An excellent summary is found in A. von Brandt, Werkzeug des Historikers. Eine Ein
fiihrung in die Historischen Hilfswissenschaften (Stuttgart, 2nd ed. 1960).
1. Chronology
H. Grotefend, Zeitrechnung des deutschen Mittelalters und der Neuzeit, I (Hanover 1891),
II (Hanover-Leipzig 1898), the most comprehensive and detailed work, with a general
account of the history of the calendar in vol. I; adequate for the student in most cases is:
H. Grotefend, Taschenbuch der Zeitrechnung des deutschen Mittelalters und der Neuzeit
(Hanover, 10th, ed. 1960). For chronology in Classical times, see W. Kubitschek, Grundrifl
der antiken Zeitrechnung (Munich 1928); for practical use, H. Lietzmann, Zeitrechnung
der Romischen Kaiserzeit, des Mittelalters und der Neuzeit (3rd ed. revised by K. Aland,
Berlin 1956). For the dating of documents, see the appropriate sections of H. Bresslau and
H. W. Klewitz’s Handbuch der Urkundenlehre, II, 2 (2nd ed. 1931, new imp. 1958) and
436
BIBLIOGRAPHY
A. Giry, Manuel de diplomatique, II (Paris 1894, new imp. 1925). Comprehensive tables
in C. de Mas Latrie, Tresor de chronologie, d’histoire et de geographic (Paris 1889);
J. Finegan, Handbook of Biblical Chronology (Princeton 1964).
For the astronomical basis: W. F. Wislicenus, Astronomische Chronologie (Leipzig 1895);
F. K. Ginzel, Handbuch der mathematischen und technischen Chronologie, 3 vols. (Leipzig
1906-13).
The founder of the critical method in chronology was D. Petavius with his De doctrina
temporum (Paris 1627, with many later editions). An instructive example of the problems
of medieval chronology is offered by W. E. van Wijk, Le nombre d’Or. Etude de chrono
logie technique. Suivie du texte de la ‘Massa Compote’ d’Alexandre de Villedieu. Avec
traduction et commentaire (The Hague 1936).
2. Palaeography
A brief but excellent introduction to Latin palaeography with bibliography is B. Bischoff,
Palaographie, 2nd revised ed. by W. Stammler (Berlin 1957) in Deutsche Philologie im
Aufrifi, 379-452. The principal Textbooks are E. M. Thompson, An Introduction to Greek
and Latin Paleography (Oxford, 2nd ed. 1912); G. Battelli, Lezioni di paleografia (Vatican
City, 3rd ed. 1940); H. Foerster, Abrifi der lateinischen Palaographie (Berne 1949);
M. Prou, Manuel de paleographie latine et franqaise, ed. by A. de Boiiard (Paris, 4th ed.
1924); G. Cencetti, Lineamenti di storia della scrittura latina (Bologna 1954), which
takes into account recent research on the history of writing. Summary accounts of the
latest researches in different countries are to be found in the principal periodical, Scrip
torium (Antwerp 1946 seqq.).
H andwriting . The latest general account of the history of handwriting is J. Fevrier,

Histoire de I’ecriture (Paris, 2nd ed. 1959). For particular periods see Nomenclature des
ecritures livresques du IX* au X V P siecle (Paris 1954), which contains B. Bischoff, “La
nomenclature des Ecritures livresques du IX® au XIII® siecle” (7-14); G. J. Lieftinck,
“Pour une nomenclature de l’^criture livresque de la p£riode dite Gothique” (15-34);
G. Battelli, “Nomenclature des Ecritures humanistiqucs” (35-43). See also: J. Mallon,
R. Marichal und C. Perrat, L’ecriture latine de la capitate a la minuscule (Paris 1939);
B. Bischoff, Die siidostdeutschen Schreibschulen und Bibliotheken in der Karolingerzeit, I
(Wiesbaden, 2nd revised ed. 1960); W. Meyer, Die Buchstabenverbindung der sogenannten
gotischen Schrift in AGG, Phil. Hist. Klasse I, 6 (1897); A. Hessel, “Die Entstehung der
Renaissanceschriften” in AUF 13 (1935), 1-14; H. Hirsch, “Gotik und Renaissance in der
Entwicklung unserer Schrift” in Almanack der Akademie der Wissenschaften zu Wien
(1932). H. Fichtenau, Mensch und Schrift im Mittelalter (Vienna 1946); compare however
the critical discussion by A. J. Walter, “Die Schrift als Kulturobjekt” in MlOG 57 (1949),
375-82; for a general survey of this subject, D. McMurtrie The Book (New York-London,
3rd revised ed. 1943).
On the history of writing in the Middle Ages the classic work of W. Wattenbach, Das
Schriftwesen im Mittelalter (Leipzig, 3rd ed. 1896, new imp. Graz 1958) remains unsur
passed; L. Santifaller, Beitrage zur Geschichte der Beschreibstoffe im MA mit besonderer
Beriicksichtigung der papstlichen Kanzlei, I, in MlOG Suppl. vol. 16 (1953). Palimpsests:
F. Mone, De libris palimpsestis latinis (Karlsruhe 1855); E. Chatelain, Les palimpsestes
latins (Paris 1903); for recent research the bibliography in the works of A. Dold is im
portant: Colligere Fragmenta in Festschrift A. Dold (Beuron 1952) IX -XX . On penmen
and penmanship: J. Destrez, La pecia dans les MSS. universitaires du X IIP siecle (Paris
1935); S. Haynal, L’enseignement de I’ecriture aux universites medievales (Budapest 1954);
H. Hajdu, Lesen und Schreiben im Spatmittelalter (Pecs - Funfkirchen 1931).
On W atermarks: G. Piccard, “Wasserzeichenforschung als historische Hilfswissenschaft”
437
BIBLIOGRAPHY
in AZ 52 (1956), 62-115; C. M. Briquet, Les filigranes, 4 vols. (Paris, 2nd ed. 1923);
V. A. Mosin and M. Tralji£, Filigranes des X III®et XIVe siecles (Zagreb 1957); T. Weiss
ed., Handbuch der Wasserzeichenkunde (Leipzig 1963).
A bbreviations and C ryptography: The most practical textbook is A . Capelli, Dizionario

di abbrevature latine ed italiane (Milan, 5th ed. 1954). J. Walther, Lexikon diplomaticum
(Ulm, 2nd ed. 1756) is still useful. For the history of abbreviations: L. Traube, Nomina
Sacra (Munich 1907); by the same, Lehre und Gescbicbte der Abkiirzungen, Vorlesungen
und Abhandlungen, I (Munich 1909); B. Mentz, Die Tironischen Noten (Berlin 1942);
W. M. Lindsay, Notae Latinae (Cambridge 1915); D. Bains, A Supplement to Notae
Latinae (Cambridge 1936); B. Bischoff, Vbersicht iiber die nichtdiplomatischen Geheim-
schriften des MAs (Munich 1954) also in M lOG 62 (1954), 1-27; A. Meister, Die Anfange
der diplomatischen Geheimschrift (Paderborn 1902); by the same, Die Geheimschrift im
Dienste der papstlichen Kurie (Paderborn 1906).
Music: For the development of musical notation, see Paleographie musicale: Les princi-
paux MSS. de Chant Gregorien publ. en facsimile (Solesmes 1889 seqq.), esp. vols. 2-3
(1891-2), -with examples from the ninth to seventeenth centuries; J. Wolf, Handbuch der
Notationskunde, I (Leipzig 1913), with a good historical survey; C. Parrish, Notation of
Medieval Music (New York 1957); W. Apel, Gregorian Chant (Bloomington 1957); G. K.
Fellerer, History of Catholic Church Music (New York 1960).
I llustrated W orks: Monumenta Palaeographica. Denkmdler der Schreibkunst des MAs,

ed. by A. Chroust, 3 series, I (Munich 1899-1906), II (Munich 1909-17), III (Munich
1918-39), arranged regionally, with more than 500 plates. Most suitable for the student
are the following: F. Steffens, Lateinische Paldographie (Trier, 2nd ed. 1929), with 125
plates and full explanations; W. Arndt and M. Tangl, Schrifttafeln zur Erlernung der
lateinischen Paldographie, parts 1 and 2 (4th ed. by M. Tangl, Munich 1904-6), 3rd part
ed. by M. Tangl (Munich, 2nd ed. 1907); J. Kirchner, Scriptura latina libraria (Munich
1955); F. Ehrle and P. Liebaert, Specimina codicum latinorum Vaticanorum (Bonn 1912).
Illustrated works covering a limited field: E. A. Lowe, Codices Latini Antiquiores (Oxford
1933 seqq.), intended to include in ten parts all MSS. of the period before 800; a parallel
work for documents before 800 is A. Bruckner and R. Marichal, Chartae latinae anti
quiores (Olten - Lausanne 1954 seqq.); A. Bruckner, Scriptoria medii aevi Helvetica,
8 parts published to date (Geneva 1936 seqq.); E. Petzet and O. Glauning, Deutsche
Schrifttafeln des 9. bis 16. Jh., 5 parts (Munich 1910-30); R. Thommen, Schriftproben aus
Basler Handschriften des 14. bis 16. Jh. (Basle, 2nd ed. 1908); G. Mentz, Handschriften
der Reformationszeit (Bonn 1912); J. Kirchner, Germanistische Handschriftenpraxis
(Munich 1950).
G reek P alaeography: For this science founded by the Maurist Br. Mountfaucon with his
Palaeographia graeca (Paris 1708), consult: V. Gardthausen, Griechische Paldographie,
2 vols. (Leipzig, 2nd ed. 1911-13); W. Schubarth, Griechische Paldographie (Munich 1925);
H. Hunger, Studien zur griechischen Paldographie (Vienna 1954).
3. Libraries
General W orks: Handbuch der Bibliothekswissenschaft, founded by F. Milkau, 2nd
revised and corrected ed. by G.Leyh (Wiesbaden 1957 seqq.); Repertoire des Bibliotheques
de France, I: Bibliotheques de Paris (Paris 1950); II: Bibliotheques des Departements
(Paris 1950); III: Centres et Services de Documentation (Paris 1951); K. Schottenloher,
Bucher bewegten die Welt. Eine Kulturgeschichte des Buches, 2 vols. (Stuttgart 1951-2).
Periodical: Zentralblatt fur Bibliothekswesen (Leipzig 1884 seqq.) / ZblB].
438
BIBLIOGRAPHY
P articular Fields of study: T. Birt, Das antike Buchwesen in seinem Verhaltnis zur
Literatur (Berlin 1882, new imp. Aalen 1959); T. Gottlieb, Uber mittelalterliche Biblio-
theken (Leipzig 1890, new imp. Graz 1955); K. Loffler, Deutsche Klosterbibliotheken
(Bonn-Leipzig, 2nd ed. 1922); F. Ehrle, Historia bibliothecae Romanorum Pontificum
turn Bonifatianae turn Avenionensis (Rome 1890); A. Pelzer, Addenda et emendanda ad
Francisci Ehrle Historia, I (Vatican City 1947); E. Muntz and P. Fabre, La bibliotheque
du Vatican au XV* siecle d’apres des documents inedits (Paris 1887). An important work
for the study of medieval libraries is Mittelalterliche Bibliothekskataloge Deutschlands urd
der Schweiz ed. by the Bavarian Academy of Sciences (1918 seqq.); P. O. Kristeller, Latin
MS. Books before 1600. A list of the Printed Catalogues and Unpublished Inventories of
Extant Collections (New York, 2nd ed. 1960): this first appeared in Tr 6 (1948), 227-317,
9 (1953), 393-418; R. Hale, Guide to Photocopied Historical Material in the United States
and Canadfi (Ithaca 1961); P. Haner ed., A Guide to Archives and Manuscripts in the
United States (New Haven 1961).
4. Study of Documents
Bibliographies and P eriodicals: H. Oesterley, Wegweiser durch die Literatur der Ur-
kundensammlungen, 2 vols. (Berlin 1885-6); L. Santifaller, Neuere Editionen mittelalter-
licher Konigs- und Papsturkunden (Vienna 1958), with details of editions of medieval
papal documents. The oldest and most important periodical is the Bibliotheque de I’Ecole
des Chartes (Paris 1839 seqq.) [BEChJ; also Archiv fiir Urkundenforschung 1-18 (Leipzig
1907-44) [AUFJ, which is specially devoted to the study of documents. A continuation,
with a wider scope, is: Archiv fiir Diplomatik, Schriftgeschichte, Siegel- und Wappen-
kunde (Cologne-Graz 1955 seqq.) [ADiplJ.
T extbooks and M anuals: H. Bresslau, Handbuch der Urkundenlehre fiir Deutschland

und Italien, I (Berlin, 2nd ed. 1912), II/l (Berlin, 2nd ed. 1915), II/2, 2nd ed. by H .W .
Klewitz (Berlin 1931, new imp. Berlin 1958), index by H. Schulze (Berlin 1960);
A. de Boiiard, Manuel de diplomatique frangaise et pontificale, I: Diplomatique generate
(Paris 1929); II: L’acte prive (Paris 1948); L. Paetow, A Guide to the Study of Medieval
History (New York 1931) revised ed.
Textbooks for particular fields of study: O. Redlich, Allgemeine Einleitung zur Urkunden
lehre; W. Erben, Die Kaiser- und Konigsurkunden des Mittelalters (Munich 1907) [Part I
of Below-Meinecke, Handbuch der mittelalterlichen und neueren Geschichte] ; O. Redlich,
Die Privaturkunden des Mittelalters (Munich 1911) [Part III of Below-Meinecke, Hand
buch']; R. Thommen, Grundbegriffe, Kaiser- und Konigsurkunden (Leipzig-Berlin 1913)
[A. Meister, Grundrifi der Geschichtswissenschaft, I]; L. Schmitz-Kallenberg, Papst
urkunden (Leipzig, 2nd ed. 1913) [Meister, Grundrifi, Part I I ]; H. Steinacker, Die Lehre
von den nichtkoniglichen Privaturkunden (Leipzig 1906) [Meister, Grundrifi, Part III];
R. Heuberger, Allgemeine Urkundenlehre fiir Deutschland und Italien (Leipzig 1921). For
Byzantine diplomatics, see F. Dolger, Byzantinische Diplomatik (Munich 1956).
I llustrated W orks. H. von Sybel and T. Sickel, Kaiserurkunden in Abbildungen, 11

parts (Munich 1889-91); A. Brackmann, Papsturkunden (Leipzig-Berlin 1914) [G. See-
liger, Urkunden und Siegel in Nachbildungen fiir den akademischen Unterricht, 2].
H istory of D iplomatics. The Benedictine J. Mabillon laid the foundation of the scientific
criticism of documents in his work De re diplomatica libri VI (Paris 1681), vide infra.
Enlightenment. Modern methods of research have been developed mainly by German and
Austrian scholars :T. Sickel, Die Urkunden der Karolinger, 2 vols. (Vienna 1867); J.Ficker,
Beitrdge zur Urkundenlehre, 2 vols. (Innsbruck 1877-8); the various works of P. Kehr
(vide infra) are excellent.
439
BIBLIOGRAPHY
R egesta. Collections of Regesta of papal documents: P. Jaff£, Regesta pontificum Romanorum

ab condita ecclesia ad annum post Christum natum ll98 (Berlin 1851), 2nd ed. by S. Loewen-
feld, F.Kaltenbrunner, P.Ewald, 2 vols. (Leipzig 1885-8,new imp.Graz 1958);A.Potthast,
Regesta Pontificum Romanorum inde ab anno 1198 ad annum 1304, 2 vols. (Berlin
1874-5, new imp. Graz 1957). For the new ed. under the direction of P. Kehr commissioned
by the Gottinger Gesellschaft der Wissenschaften, cf. the work of L. Santifaller (p. 439).
Regesta of papal documents are to be found in the various series published by the
Bibliotheque des £coles franjaises d’Ath^nesetde Rome (see the bibliographies to vols. II-IV).
Sigillography: W. Ewald, Siegelkunde (Munich 1914); P. Sella, I sigilli dell’Archivio
Vaticano, 2 vols. (Rome 1937-46); V. Laurent, Documents de sigillographie byzantine
(Paris 1954); R. Gandilhon, Sigillographie des universites de France (Paris 1952).
5. Archives
M anuals: A. Brennecke, Archivstudien, ed. by W. Leesch (Leipzig 1953); H. O. Meissner,
Archiv- und Aktenlehre der Neuzeit (Leipzig, 2nd ed. 1952); A. Mazzoleni, Lezioni di
archivistica (Naples 1954).
P eriodicals: Archivum. Revue 'Internationale des archives (Paris 1951 seqq.); Archi-
valische Zeitschrift (Stuttgart-Munich 1877 seqq.) [AZ],
G uides to A rchives: D. H. Thomas and L. M. Case, Guide to the Diplomatic Archives

of Western Europe (Philadelphia 1959); K. A. Fink, Das Vatikanische Archiv. Einfiihrung
in die Bestande und ihre Erforschung (Rome, 2nd ed. 1951). A good example of a general
catalogue of an important set of archives is: L. Bittner, Gesamtinventar des Wiener Haus-,
Hof- und Staatsarchivs, 5 vols. (Vienna 1936-40).
6. Heraldry
General: J. Siebacher, Grosses und allgemeines Wappenbuch, Nuremberg, 1st ed. 1594,
8 new impressions (unaltered) since 1854. The best general accounts are D. L. Galbreath,
Handbiichlein der Heraldik (Lausanne, 2nd ed., 1948) O. Hupp, Wappenkunst und
Wappenkunde (Berlin 1928); H. Hussman, Deutsche Wappenkunst (Leipzig 1940);
L. Fejerpataky, Magyar Czimeres Emlekek, 3 vols. (Budapest 1901-2); C. Fox-Davies,
A Complete Guide to Heraldry (London-New York 1951); J.Burke, Britain’sGenealogical
and Heraldic History of Landed Gentry (London 1939); A. Wagner, Heralds and Heraldry
in the Middle Ages (Oxford 1956); S. Konarski, Armorial de la noblesse polonaise titree
(Paris 1958).
E cclesiastical H eraldry: Baron du Rouve de Paulins, L’heraldique ecclesiastique (Paris

1911); B. B. Heim, Wappenbrauch und Wappenrecht in der Kirche (Olten 1947). For papal
and cardinalitial arms see A. Ciaconius-Oldoin, Vitae et res gestae summorum Pontificum
et S. R. E. cardinalium, 4 vols. (Rome 1677); D. L. Galbreath, A Treatise on Ecclesiastical
Heraldry, I: Papal Heraldry (Cambridge 1930); C. Erdmann, “Das Wappen und die
Fahne der Romischen Kirche” in QFIAB 22 (1930-1), 227-55; by the same, “Kaiserliche
und papstliche Fahnen im hohen Mittelalter”, ibid. 25 (1933-4), 1-48; O. Kirchberger, Die
Wappen der religidsen Orden (Vienna 1895); M. Gorino, Titoli nobiliari e ordini equestri
pontifici (Turin 1933); E. Zimmermann, Bayrische Klosterheraldik (Munich 1931);
A.Walz, “Das Wappen des Predigerordens” in RQ 47 (1939), 111-47. There is no general
account of the origin of the arms of the German bishoprics, but there are some good ones
for individual sees, e.g. P. Bretschneider, “Das Breslauer Bistumswappen” in Zeitschrift
des Vereins fur Gesch. Schlesiens 50 (1916), 225-56. For France: J. de Meurgey Armorial
de I’Eglise de France (Macon 1938).
44 0
BIBLIOGRAPHY
7. Geography and Cartography

G eneral: G. Franz, “Historische Kartographie, Forschung und Bibliographic” (Bremen -
Horn 1955) in Veroffentlichungen der Akademie fiir Raumforschung und Landesplanung,
Report No. XXIX; H. Hzssinger,GeographischeGrundlagen der Geschichte {Freiburg i.Br.,
2nd ed. 1953); L. Mirot, Manuel de geographic historique de la France (Paris 1930);
M. Schmidt, “Probleme, Aufgaben u. Moglichkeiten kirchengeschichtlicher Kartographie”
in Misc. Hist. Eccl. (Louvain 1961) 158-66; J. Prinz, “Eine Konfessionskarte Deutschlands”,
ibid. 147-57.
A tlases. General historical atlases: G. Droysen, Allgemeiner historischer Handatlas (Biele-

feld-Leipzig 1886); K. von Spruner and T. Menke, Handatlas fiir die Geschichte des
Mittelalters u. der neueren Zeit (Gotha 1880); Grosser historischer Weltatlas ed. by the
Bayrischer Schulbuchverlag (Munich 1954 seqq.); F. W. Putzger, Historischer Schulatlas
(Bielefeld-Leipzig, 65th ed. 1960); G. Niessen, Geschichtlicher Handatlas der deutschen
Lander am Rhein (Bonn 1950). J. Horrabin, An Atlas of European History from the 2nd
to the 20th Century (London 1935); F. van der Meer, Atlas de la civilisation occidentale
(Paris 1952).For ecclesiastical history: O. Werner, Orhis terrarum catholicus (Freiburg i.Br.
1890); E. McClure, Historical Church Atlas (London 1897); K. Heussi and H. Mulert,
Atlas zur Kirchengeschichte (Tubingen, 3rd ed. 1937); L. Grammatica, Testo e Atlante di
Geografia ecclesiastica (Bergamo 1928); K. Pieper, Atlas orhis christiani antiqui (Diissel-
dorf 1931); C. Streit, Atlas Hierarchicus (Paderborn, 2nd ed. 1929); A. Freitag and J. M.
Lory, Atlas du monde chretien (Brussels 1959); F. van der Meer and C. Mohrmann, An
Atlas of the Early Christian World (London 1958); E. Gaustad, Historical Atlas of
Religion in America (New York 1962).
Missionary History: C. Streit, Katholischer Missionsatlas (Steyl 1906); J. Thauren,

Atlas der katholischen Missionsgeschichte (Modling bei Wien 1932); J Neuhausler, Atlas
der katholischen Missionen (Munich 1932); Atlas Missionum a Sacra Congregatione de
Propaganda Fide dependentium, ed. by H. Emmerich (Vatican City 1958); A. Freitag,
Die Wege des Heils, Bildatlas zur Geschichte der Weltmissionen (Salzburg 1960).
T opography: J. G. T. Graesse, Orhis latinus, 3rd ed. revised by F. Benedict (Berlin 1922);
E. Forstemann, Die deutschen Ortsnamen (Nordhausen 1863); H. Oesterley, Historisch-
geographisches Worterhuch des deutschen Mittelalters (Gotha 1881-3); U. Chevalier,
Repertoire des sources historiques du moyen age, II: Topo-hihliographie (Montbeliard
1894-1903); L. H. Cottineau, Repertoire topo-hihliographique des ahhayes et prieures,
2 vols. (Macon 1935-9); Germania Sacra, ed. by the Kaiser-Wilhelm-Institut fiir Deutsche
Geschichte (Berlin 1929 seqq.). A basic work for the later Middle Ages (bishoprics and
abbeys) is H. Hoberg, Taxae de communihus servitiis (Vatican City 1949). For ecclesiastical
geography of the Byzantine Church see H. G. Beck, Kirche und theologische Literatur im
byzantinischen Reich (Munich 1959) 148-229; R. Janin, La geographic ecclesiastique de
I’empire byzantin III/l: Eglises et monasteres de Constantinople (Paris 1953).
8. Statistics
For general statistics of population: E. Kirsten, E. W. Buchholz, W. Kollmann, Raum und
Bevolkerung in der Weltgeschichte, 2 vols. (Wurzburg, 2nd ed. 1956). Numbers of popu
lation, including clerics and monks in individual bishoprics and monasteries, are till the
later Middle Ages based mainly on estimates. Only from the late Middle Ages onwards do
church registers, tithe lists, records of visitations and other documents provide more
reliable figures; cf. H. Jedin, “Das Konzil von Trient und die Anfange der Kirchen-
matrikeln” in ZSavRGkan 32 (1943), 419-494; H. Borsting, Geschichte der Matrikeln von
der Friihkirche bis zur Gegenwart (Freiburg i.Br. 1959). Concerning the cardinals, the
441
BIBLIOGRAPHY
papal court and the curial authorities, the annual Notizie per I’anno . . . have given exact
statistics since 1716, from 1850-70 under the title Annuario Pontificio. In the Gerarchia
Cattolica, appearing since 1872 (which in 1912 became the official Annuario Pontificio),
holders of bishoprics are listed alphabetically. Valuable and by no means fully exploited
material for the statistics of bishoprics and orders is contained in the lists of personnel and
property dating mostly from the 18th century. The Congregation for the Propagation of
the Faith first issued missionary statistics in 1843: Notizia statistica delle Missioni cattoliche
in tutto il mondo, reprinted in O. Mejer, Die Propaganda, I (Gottingen 1852), 473-562.
The first bureau of ecclesiastical statistics following scientific methods, the Zentralstelle
fur kirchliche Statistik, was set up by the German bishops’ conference at Cologne in 1915.
It took over the Kirchliche Handbuch fur das katholische Deutschland, edited since 1908
by H. A. Krose, SJ. Only in quite recent times have other countries followed this example,
such as France, Holland, and Spain among others. The Federal Republic of Western
Germany has now two research institutes, at Konigstein and Essen, which are members
of the International Federation of Catholic Research Institutes (FERES), whose
headquarters are at Fribourg, Switzerland. The Official Catholic Directory published
annually in the United States contains ecclesiastical statistics on America, Great Britain,
and Commonwealth Nations, as well as the Philippine Islands and Mexico.
D ivisions
E. Goller, Die Periodisierung der Kirchengeschichte und die epochale Stellung des Mittel-
alters (Freiburg i.Br. 1919); K. Heussi, Altertum, Mittelalter und Neuzeit in der Kirchen
geschichte (Tubingen 1921); O. E. Strasser, “Les periodes et les £poques de l’histoire de
l’eglise” in RHPhR 30 (1950), 290-304; O. Halecki, The Limits and Divisions of European
History (New York 1950); id., The Millennium of Europe (Notre Dame 1963).
A general guide to the division of history: J. H. J. van der Pot, De Periodisering der
der Geschiedenis. Een overzicht der Theorien (The Hague 1951); M. Tetz, “Ober Formen-
geschichte in der Kirchengeschichte” in ThZ 17 (1961), 413-31.
R elevance for T oday

A. Knopfler, Wert und Bedeutung des Studiums der Kirchengeschichte (Munich 1893); cf.
also: H. Schrors in H ] 15 (1894), 133-45; A. M. Koeniger, Voraussetzungen und Voraus-
setzungslosigkeit in Geschichte und Kirchengeschichte (Munich 1910); Y. Congar, Vraie et
fausse reforme dans Veglise (Paris 1950); M. Richards, “Is Church History Really
Necessary?” in The Clergy Review (1964); H. F. May, “The Recovery of American Reli
gious History” in The American Historical Review, 70 (1964), 79-92. For further
bibliography see above under Subject Matter, Ecclesiology.
II. The Writing and Study of Church History

There is still no satisfactory account of ecclesiastical historiography and its development
into a science. F. C. Baur’s brilliant Die Epochen der Kirchengeschichtsschreibung (Tubin
gen 1852, new imp. Darmstadt 1962) was Hegelian in its inspiration; it confined itself,
like W. Nigg’s Die Kirchengeschichtsschreibung (Munich 1934) to the main types — in
recent times Protestant — without inquiring into the reciprocal effects of research,
narrative and instruction. The same applies to the concise survey by P. Brezzi, La storio-
grafia ecclesiastica (Naples 1959).
442
BIBLIOGRAPHY
A ntiquity
The sources given in G. Loeschke’s Zwei kirchengeschichtliche Entwiirfe (Tubingen 1913),
excellent as far as they go, have now been superseded. Brief but excellent information
about the Church historians of antiquity, with full bibliography, is to be found in
B. Altaner, Patrology (London-New York, 2nd imp. 1960) 263-93. For the Latin Fathers’
consciousness of the Church see P. T. Camelot, “Mysterium Ecclesiae” in Festschrift
H. Rahner (Freiburg i. Br. 1961), 134-51.
Eusebius and his C ontinuators. The first ed. of Eusebius’ Church History in the Greek
text is that of R. Etienne (Paris 1544), with Socrates, Sozomen, and Theodoret; critical
ed. by E. Schwartz and T. Mommsen, 3 vols. (Berlin 1903-9), Greek and Latin text;
Greek and English text by H. J. Lawlor and J. E. L. Ulten (London, second edition
1952-3). R. Laqueur, Eusebius als Historiker seiner Zeit (Berlin 1929); cf. Altaner
265 ff. for further bibliography. For Socrates and Sozomen see PG 67, 29-1630;
Sozomen alone, ed. by J. Bidez and G. C. Hausen (Berlin 1960) [GCS 50]; Theodoret,
ed. by L. Parmentier and F. Scheidweiler (Berlin, 2nd ed. 1954); F. Scheidweiler, "Die
Bedeutung der Vita Mitrophanis et Alexandri fur die Quellenkritik bei den griechischen
Kirchenhistorikern” in ByZ 50 (1957), 74-98. Historia Tripartita ed. by W. Jacob and
R. Hanslik (Vienna 1952) [CSEL 71]; for bibliography see Altaner 275. The World
Chronicle of Eusebius and Jerome ed. by R. Halm, 2 vols. (Berlin 1913-26) [GCS' 24, 34],
new ed. in 1 vol. (Berlin 1956). Lesser World Chronicles ed. by T. Mommsen in MGAuctant
IX (Berlin 1892). For a brief survey of the Byzantine historians not here mentioned see
H. G. Beck in LThK VI, 212 and General Bibliography to vols. I and II.
Of the extensive literature on Augustine’s view of history {Altaner 504-5), only A. Wach-
tel, Beitrdge zur Geschichtstheologie des Aurelius Augustinus (Bonn 1960) need be men
tioned, especially for its full bibliographies; Paulus Orosius, Historiae adversus paganos,
ed. with English translation by J. W. Raymond (New York 1936); bibliography, Altaner
280-1.
For schemata of sacred and profane history see van der Pot, Periodisering der Geschiedenis,
36-64, 76-84; J. Danielou, “La typologie mill^nariste de la semaine dans le christianisme
primitif” in VigChr 2 (1946), 1-16; P. E. Hiibinger, "Spatantike und friihes Mittelalter”
in DVfLG 26 (1952), 1-48; A. D. van den Brincken, “Weltaeren” in A KG 39 (1957),
133-49; B. Sticker, “Weltzeitalter und astronomische Perioden” in Saeculum 4 (1953)
241-49.
M i d d l e A ges
In addition to the still unfinished new edition of W. Wattenbach’s standard work, Deutsch-
lands Geschichtsquellen im Mittelalter (1st ed. 1858) by W. Levison and H. Lowe (Weimar
1952-7) for the early and Carolingian period and by R. Holtzmann for the llth-13th
centuries (Tubingen 1948) (referred to as Wattenbach-Levison and Wattenbach-Holtz
mann respectively), consult also K. Jacob, Quellenkunde der deutschen Geschichte im
Mittelalter, 5th ed. revised by H. Hohenleutner, I and II (Berlin 1959-61), III by
F. Weden (Berlin 1952) [Sammlung Goschen 279, 280, 284]; R. I. Poole, Chronicles and
Annals (Oxford 1926); T. F. Tout, The Study of Medieval Chronicles (Manchester 1934);
H. Grundmann, "Geschichtsschreibung im MA” in Deutsche Philologie im Aufrifl, ed. by
W. Stammler, III (Berlin 1957), 1273-336; M. Manitius, Geschichte der lateinischen Lite-
ratur des MA, 3 vols. (Munich 1911, 1923, 1931, new imp. of I, 1959) (to the end of the
12th cent.); G. Misch, Geschichte der Autobiographic, II and III, in 4 parts (Frankfurt
1955-62), with detailed analyses; for interpretations of history, see Geschichtsdenken und
443
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Geschichtsbild, ed. by W. Lammers (Darmstadt 1961), which contains sixteen essays by

leading authors, already published elsewhere. Finally there is O. Brunner’s study, Abend-
landisches Gescbichtsdenken (434-59) with extensive bibliographies.
For the medieval beginnings of ecclesiastical history in the strict sense, an important work
is H. Zimmermann, Studien zur Kirchengeschichtsschreibung im MA (Vienna 1960) [SAW,
Phil.-Hist. Kl. 235, 4]; necessary for deeper study of the subject are the numerous modern
works on medieval ecclesiology: J. Beumer, “Zur Ekklesiologie der Friihscholastik” in
Scholastik 26 (1951), 365-89; by the same, “Das Kirchenbild in den Schriftkommentaren
Bedas der Ehrwurdigen”, ibid. 28 (1953), 40-56; by the same, “Ekklesiologische Probleme
der Friihscholastik”, ibid. 27 (1952), 183-209; FI. Riedlinger, Die Makellosigkeit der
Kirche in den lat. Hoheliedkommentaren des MA (Munster 1958); for the history of
Joachimism and the Franciscan spirituals, see E.Benz, Ecclesia Spiritualis (Stuttgart 1934).
For the late medieval idea of the Church, see F. Merzbacher, “Wandlungen des Kirchen-
begriffs im Spatmittelalter” in ZSavRGkan 39 (1953), 274-361; H. Jedin, “Zur Entwick-
lung des Kirchenbegriffs im 16. Jh.” in Relazioni del X° Congresso internazionale di Scienze
Storiche IV (Florence 1955), 59-73; L. Buisson, Potestas und Caritas. Die pdpstliche Ge-
walt im Spatmittelalter (Cologne 1958).
S pecial S ubjects: FI. Lowe, Von Theoderich zu Karl dem Grofien (Darmstadt 1958);
A. D. van den Brincken, Studien zur lateinischen Weltchronik bis in das Zeitalter Ottos
von Freising (Dusseldorf 1957); J. Sporl, Grundformen hochmittelalterlicher Geschichts-
anschauungen (Munich 1935). For the medieval Vita, see H. Vogt, Die literarische Per-
sonenschilderung des friihen MA (Leipzig 1934); O. Kohler, Das Bild des geistlichen Fiir-
sten in den Viten des 10., 11. und 12. Jh. (Berlin 1934). P. van den Baar, Die kirchliche
Lehre von der Translatio Imperii bis zur Mitte des 13. Jh.; W. Goez, Tfanslatio Imperii.
Ein Beitrag zur Geschichte des Geschichtsdenkens und der politischen Theorie im MA und
der friihen Neuzeit (Tubingen 1958); H. Beumann, “Der Schriftsteller und seine Kritiker
im friihen MA” in StudGen 12 (1959), 497-511.
H um a n ism , the R efo rm ati on , and the B eginnings of

C h u r c h H i s t o r y as a S c i e n c e
The influence of humanism on attitudes towards the Church and Church history still
needs closer study. The leading accounts of modern historiography may still be mentioned:
E. Fueter, Geschichte der neueren Historiographie (Munich-Berlin 1911); H. von Srbik,
Geist und Geschichte vom deutschen Humanismus bis zur Gcgenwart, 2 vols. (Munich-
Salzburg 1950); F. Meinecke, Die Entstehung des Historismus, 2 vols. (Munich, 3rd ed.
1959); W. Dilthey, Weltanschauung und Analyse des Menschen seit Renaissance und Re
formation (Leipzig, 2nd ed. 1921). See also L. Spitz, The Religious Renaissance of the
German Humanists (Cambridge 1963). For this subject, further reference may be made to
the following surveys of sources: G. Wolf, Quellenkunde der deutschen Reformationsge-
schichte, 2 vols. (Gotha 1915-22); F. Schnabel, Deutschlands geschichtliche Quellen und
Darstellungen in der Neuzeit, I: Das Zeitalter der Reformation (Leipzig 1931); an excellent
general survey of the literature, embracing the whole of Europe, is E. Hassinger, Das Wer-
den des neuzeitlichen Europa (Brunswick 1959), 401-86. For the rise of a new view of
history, see A. Klempf, Die Sakularisierung der universalhistorischen Auffassung (Gottin
gen 1960); cf. O. Kohler in Saeculum 12 (1961), 191; W. Kaegi, Chronica Mundi. Grund
formen der Geschichtsschreibung seit dem MA (Einsiedeln 1954). For an excellent survey
of the Renaissance in its historical context: W. Ferguson, The Renaissance in Historical
Thought (Cambridge 1948).
444
BIBLIOGRAPHY
The only general account of the historiography of this period is E. Menke-Gliickert, Die
Geschichtsschreibung der Reformation und Gegenreformation (Leipzig 1912), which is
inadequate for developments on the Catholic side. For the attitude of the Reformers
towards Church history, see W. Kohler, Luther und die Kirchengeschichte, I (Erlangen
1900); H. W. Miiller-Krumweide, Glauben und Geschichte in der Theologie Luthers
(Gottingen 1953); H. Berger, Calvins Geschichtsauffassung (Zurich 1955); K. Raber,
Studien zur Geschichtsbibel Sebastian Francks (Basle 1952). For the separation of sacred
from profane history in Melanchthon, see P. Meinhold, Ph. Melanchthon (Berlin 1960),
90 ff. The effect of the controversial point of view on the development of Church history
into a science is studied by P. Polman, Uelement historique dans la controverse religieuse
du X V Ie siecle (Gembloux 1932). For the publication of sources and the rise of criticism,
see H. Quentin, J.-D. Mansi et les grandes collections conciliaires (Paris 1900); also LThK
VI, 534ff.; P. Peeters, VOeuvre des Bollandistes (Brussels, 2nd ed. 1961); E. M arine,
Histoire de la Congregation de St Maur, ed. by G. Charvin, 9 vols. (Ligug£ 1928-43);
E. de Broglie, Bernard de Montfaucon et les Bernardins, 2 vols. (Paris 1891); H. Leclercq,
J. Mabillon, 2 vols. (Paris 1953-7), on this M. D. Knowles in JEH 10 (1959), 153-73;
J. De Ghellinck, “L’edition de St Augustin par les Mauristes” in NRTh 57 (1930), 746-74.
Studies of particular subjects: A. Herte, Das katholische Lutherbild im Bann der Luther-
kommentare des Cochlaeus, 3 vols. (Munster 1943); B. A. Vermaseren, De cath. Neder-
landsche Geschiedsschrijving in de 16e en 17e eeuw (Maastricht 1941); H. Borak, “Theo-
logia historiae in doctrina S. Laurentii a Brindisi” in Laurentiana 1 (Rome 1960), 31-97.
T he E n l i g h t e n m e n t and T eaching of C hurch H istory
K.Volker, Die Kirchengeschichtsschreibung der Aufklarung (Tubingen 1921); E.C. Scherer,

Geschichte und Kirchengeschichte an den deutschen Universitaten (Freiburg i. Br. 1927),
a fundamental introduction to the subject; J. Engel, “Die deutschen Universitaten und
die Geschichtswissenschaft” in HZ 189 (1959), 223-378; K. Zinke, Zustande und Stro-
mungen in der katholischen Kirchengeschichtsschreibung des Aufkldrungszeitalters im
deutschen Sprachgebiet (Bernau 1933). A. Walz, Studi storiografici (Rome 1940), 40-72,
on the introducing of Church history as a subject of instruction at the Roman universities
in the 18th and 19th centuries; A. P£rez Goyena, “Los origenes del estudio de la historia
eclesfastica en Espana” in RF 79 (1927). Histories of the faculties of Church history have
been written by S. Merkle for Wurzburg, E. Sager for Freiburg, E. Hegel for Trier,
H. Jedin for Bonn, and A. P. Briick for Mainz.
The 1 9 t h and 2 0 t h C e n t u r i e s and t h e D e v e l o p m e n t of

C h u r c h H i s t o r y as a S c i e n c e
On the main currents in the science of history-writing during the 19th and 20th centuries:
F. Wagner, Geschichtswissenschaft (Freiburg i. Br. 1951), 169-377 (full bibliography);
important for Church history is E. Troeltsch, Der Historismus und seine Probleme (Tu
bingen 1922); id., Der Historismus und seine Vberwindung (Berlin 1924); E. Laslowski,
“Probleme des Historismus” in H ] 62-9 (1949), 593-606; H. Butterfield, Man on his Past
(Cambridge 1955), important here because it deals in some detail with Dollinger’s pupil,
Lord Acton. For the progress of historical research in the 19th century in which Church
history also shared, the great works on published sources must be consulted (e.g. H. Bress-
lau, Geschichte der MG [Hanover 1921], and H. Grundmann, Geschichte in Wissenschaft
und LJnterricht, 2 [1951], 538-47), as well as the publications of the historical institutes
(e.g. W. Friedensburg, Das Konigliche Preuflische hist. Inst, in Rom 1888-1901 [Berlin
1903]; H. Kramer, Das Osterreichische hist. Inst, in Rom 1881-1901 [Rome 1932]; for
44 5
BIBLIOGRAPHY
other historical institutes in Rome, see K. A. Fink, Das Vatikanische Archiv [Rome, 2nd
ed. 1951], 152-80), and their annual reports in their respective periodicals; and not least
the correspondence and autobiographies of famous historical scholars: Die Geschichts-
wissenschaft in Selbstdarstellungen, ed. by S. Steinberg (Leipzig 1925); Die Religions-
wissenschaft in Selbstdarstellungen, ed. by E. Stange (Leipzig 1927), containing among
others H. Grisar, H. Schrors and J. Schmidlin; P. M. Baumgarten, Romische und andere
Erinnerungen (Diisseldorf 1927); T. von Sickel, Romische Erinnerungen, ed. by L. Santi-
faller (Vienna 1947). The account in this section is an attempt to trace the reciprocal
effects of research, historical writing and instruction in the field of Church history, as
I have done in Das Konzil von Trient. Ein Uberblick iiber die Erforschung seiner Ge-
schichte (Rome 1948), 167-213.
M ohler and D ollinger: J. A. Mohler, Die Einheit der Kirche (1825), ed. by J. R. Geisel-
mann (Cologne 1957); Gesammelte Schriften und Aufsatze, ed. by J.J. I. Dollinger, 2 vols.
(Regensburg 1939-40); S. Losch, J. A. Mohler, Gesammelte Aktenstiicke und Briefe, I
(Munich 1928); K. Bihlmeyer, “J. A. Mohler als Kirchenhistoriker” in ThQ 100 (1919),
134-98; H. Tiichle, Die eine Kirche. Zum Gedenken ]. A. Moblers (Paderborn 1939);
J. R. Geiselmann, Lebendiger Glaube aus geheiligter Vberlieferung (Mainz 1942); id.,
Uecclesiologie au X IX e siecle (Paris 1960), 141-95; B. D. Dufourcq, “Schisme et Primaut£
chez J.A. M.” in RSR 34 (1960), 197-231. The biography of Dollinger by his pupil, the
Old Catholic J. Friedrich, 3 vols. (Munich 1899-1901) can be superseded only when the
edition of his letters begun by V. Conzemius is completed; cf. V. Conzemius in ZBLG 22
(1959), 154—60; S. Losch, Dollinger und Frankreich (Munich 1955). Discourse on the past
and present of Catholic theology (1863) in Kleinere Schriften, ed. by F. H. Reusch (Stutt
gart 1890), 161-96.
4 46
G EN ER A L B I B L I O G R A P H Y TO VOLUMES I A N D II
Containing the sources, historical accounts, periodicals, and other ancillary works of
most importance for the study of the history of the ancient Church. The abbreviations
are based on those employed in the Lexikon fur Theologie und Kirche I (Freiburg i. Br.,
2nd ed. 1957), 16-48.
I. L IT E R A R Y S O U R C E S
A ncient C hristian A uthors

The works of the ancient Christian authors are certainly of primary importance.
They exist for the most part in the form of collections of writings, an account of the
origin of which has been given in the Introduction. For many of these authors the editions
in J.-P.Migne’s two great series of patristic texts have not yet been superseded: Patrologiae
cursus completus. Series graeca, 161 vols. (Paris 1857-66) and Series latina, 221 vols.,
of which the four last contain indexes (Paris 1844-64, several vols. reprinted 1878-90).
The indexes to the Series graeca were compiled by F. Cavallera (Paris 1912) and T. Hopf-
ner, 2 vols. (Paris 1928—45). A Supplement to the Series latina in several vols. has been
begun by A. Hamman (Paris 1958 seqq.); so far (1964) vols. I, II, and III, fasc. 1 and 2
have appeared.
Critical editions of the Latin and Greek authors are still being produced by the Academies
of Science of Vienna and Berlin respectively in: Corpus scriptorum ecclesiasticorum
latinorum (Vienna 1860 seqq.) and Die griechischen christlichen Schriftsteller der ersten
Jahrhunderte (Leipzig 1897 seqq.). A parallel undertaking is: Texte und Untersuchungen
zur Gescbichte der altchristlichen Literatur, in several series (Leipzig-Berlin 1882 seqq.).
The Benedictine abbey of St Peter at Steenbrugge (Belgium) is planning a new edition of
the writings of all the Latin, Greek, and Eastern Fathers: Corpus christianorum seu nova
patrum collectio, of which the Latin series has already been begun (Turnhout-Paris 1953
seqq.). A very valuable aid to study is the following work, prepared for this series by
E. Dekkers and A. Gaar: Clavis patrum latinorum (Steenbrugge, 2nd ed. 1961). This gives
a critical survey of all existing editions of the Latin Fathers. Some late Latin ecclesiastical
writers have been edited in: Monumenta Germaniae Historica, Auctores antiquissimi
(Hanover-Berlin 1826 seqq.). For the early Byzantine period of Church history a work
to be consulted is: Corpus scriptorum historiae Byzantinae (Bonn 1828 seqq.).
Greek and Latin texts of the Fathers (with French translation) are published in the
collection edited by C. Mond£sert known as: Sources chretiennes (Paris 1941 seqq.); 102
vols. have so far appeared.
For the study of Greek and Latin Christian authors, M. Vatasso’s Initia patrum (lati
norum), 2 vols. (Rome 1906-8) and C. Baur’s Initia patrum graecorum, 2 vols. (Rome
1955) are important aids. All printed works of the Fathers are listed according to their
opening words.
The following are collections of Eastern Christian writers: Patrologia Syriaca, ed. by
R. Grafin, 3 vols. (Paris 1894-1926); Patrologia Orientalis, ed. by R. Grafin and F. Nau
(Paris 1903 seqq.); Corpus scriptorum christianorum Orientalium (Paris 1903 seqq.), begun
by J. B. Chabot and now edited by R. Draguet, Louvain.
447
BIBLIOGRAPHY
The smaller collections of individual writings of the Fathers listed below are intended
for students’ use: Corpus scriptorum latinorum Paravianum (Turin): Florilegium patris-
ticum, ed. by J. Zellinger and B. Geyer (Bonn 1904 seqq.); Kleine Texte, ed. by H. Lietz-
mann (Berlin 1902 seqq.); Sammlung ausgewdhlter Kirchen- und dogmengeschichtlicher
Quellenschriften, ed. by G. Kruger (Tubingen 1891 seqq.); Scriptores christiani primaevi
(The Hague 1946 seqq.); Stromata patristica et mediaevalia, ed. by C. Mohrmann and
J. Quasten (Utrecht 1950 seqq.).
For students also the so-called enchiridia are to be recommended. They contain a selection
of characteristic patristic texts: C. Kirch and L. Ueding, Enchiridion fontium historiae
ecclesiasticae antiquae (Freiburg i. Br., 8th ed. 1960); M.-J. Rouet de Journel, Enchiridion
patristicum (Freiburg i. Br., 21st ed. 1959); M.-J. Rouet de Journel and J. Dutilleul,
Enchiridion asceticum (Freiburg i.Br., 5th ed. 1958); C. Silva-Tarouca, Fontes historiae
ecclesiasticae medii aevi, I, saec. V -IX (Rome 1930; selections); H. M. Gwatkin, Selections
from Early Christian Writers Illustrative of Church History to the Time of Constantine
(London 1937).
The principal series of translations of the Fathers are: Bibliothek der Kirchenv'ater, ed. by
O. Bardenhewer et alii, 1st series, 63 vols., 2nd series, 20 vols. (Kempten-Munich 1911-39);
Sources chretiennes, the French translation mentioned above; Ancient Christian Writers,
ed. by J. Quasten (Westminster, Md.-London 1946 seqq.); The Fathers of the Church, ed.
by R. Deferrari (New York 1947 seqq.); Ante-Nicene Christian Library (Edinburgh
Collection) 1866-72, 24 vols., and 1 supplement, vol by A. Menzies, 1897; Ante-Nicene
Fathers (Buffalo Collection) 1884-6, supplemented by 28 vols. republished (Grand Rapids
1956); A Select Library of Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, 28 vols. (Buffalo and New
York 1886-90).
The actual Church historians among the ancient writers are of special importance:
Eusebius, Historia Ecclesiastica (down to 324) ed. by E. Schwartz in GCS 9, 1-3 (Berlin
1908-9); Philostorgius, Historia Ecclesiastica (down to 425) ed. by J. Bidez in GCS 21
(Berlin 1913); Socrates, Historia Ecclesiastica (305-439), ed by R. Hussey, 3 vols. (Oxford
1853); Sozomen, Historia Ecclesiastica (324-425), ed. by J. Bidez and G. C. Hansen in
GCS 50 (Berlin 1960); Theodoret, Historia Ecclesiastica ed. by L. Parmentier, 2nd ed. by
F. Scheidweiler in GCS 44 (19) (Berlin 1954); Gelasius, Historia Ecclesiastica, ed. by
G. Loeschke and M. Heinemann in GCS 28 (Berlin 1918); Zacharias Rhetor, Historia
Ecclesiastica (circa 450-540), preserved in a Syrian translation, ed. by E. W. Brooks in
CSCO 83-4 (Paris 1919-21); Evagrius Scholasticus, Historia Ecclesiastica (431-594), ed.
by J. Bidez and L. Parmentier (London 1898, republished Amsterdam 1964); Rufinus of
Aquileia’s translation of the Historia Ecclesiastica of Eusebius, with two supplementary
books of his own, ed. by T. Mommsen in GCS 9, 1-3 (Berlin 1908-9); Sulpicius Severus,
the World Chronicle or Historia Sacra (down to 400), ed. by C. Halm in CSEL 1 (Vienna
1866); Paulus Orosius, Historia adversus paganos, an outline of world history to the year
474, ed. by C. Zangmeister in CSEL 5 (Vienna 1882); The World Chronicles of Tiro
Prosper of Aquitaine, Cassiodorus and Isidore of Seville, edited by T. Mommsen in
MGAuctant 9 and 11 (Berlin 1892 and 1894).
A c t s of t h e M a r t y r s and the V itae of t h e

E arly S aints
The Acts of the martyrs and the Vitae of the early saints are valuable source-material for the
first centuries of the history of the Church. They have been catalogued in three works ed.
by the Bollandists: Bibliotheca hagiographica latina, 2 vols. (Brussels 1898-1901,
reprinted in 1949), a supplementary vol. appeared in 1911; Bibliotheca hagiographica
44 8
BIBLIOGRAPHY
graeca, 3 vols. (Brussels, 3rd ed. 1957); Bibliotheca hagiographica orientalis (Brussels 1910).
Acta Sanctorum, begun by J. Bolland at Antwerp in 1643, serves editors and commentators
working on these sources. The vols. are arranged according to the saints’ days of the Roman
Calendar, beginning with January. The most recent vol., no. 65, contains the ninth and
tenth days of November. Two important supplementary vols. are: Martyrologium
Hieronymianum, ed. by H. Quentin and H. Delehaye (Brussels 1931) and Martyrologium
Romanum, revised by H. Delehaye (Brussels 1940). A selection of the most important
Acta is found in: T. Ruinart, Acta martyrum sincera (Paris 1689. Regensburg, 5th ed. 1859).
The selection by R. Knopf and G. Kruger, Ausgewahlte Martyrerakten (Tubingen, 3rd ed.
1929), is intended for the use of students. A fundamental work for Byzantine hagiog
raphy is that of A. Ehrhard and J. M. Hoeck, Vberlieferung und Bestand der
hagiographischen und homiletischen Literatur der griechischen Kirche, of which vols.
I-III have so far appeared (Leipzig 1937-52) (TU 50-2). The leading periodical for the
whole field of hagiography is: Analecta Bollandiana (Brussels 1882 seqq.), with
bibliography.
L i t u r g i e s , C r e e d s , A cts of C o u n c i l s , P apal D ecrees
Source-works on ancient liturgies, creeds, acts of councils and papal decrees, important
for our knowledge of the inner life of the Church, have been accorded separate treatment.
a) Liturgies: Among collections of liturgical texts the following should be

mentioned: J. A. Assemani, Codex liturgicus ecclesiae universalis, 13 vols. (Rome 1749-66,
new imp. Paris 1922 seqq.); H. A. Daniel, Codex liturgicus ecclesiae universalis, 4 vols.
(Leipzig 1847-53); N . Nilles, Kalendarium manuale utriusque ecclesiae orientalis et
occidentalis, 2 vols. (Innsbruck 1896-7). The following contain only Oriental texts:
J. Goar, Euchologion, sive Rituale Graecorum (Paris 1647, Venice 1730, latest imp. Graz
1959); E. Renaudot, Liturgiarum orientalium collectio, 2 vols. (Paris 1716, Frankfurt 1847);
H. Denzinger, Ritus Orientalium, 2 vols. (Wurzburg 1863-4); F. E. Brightman, Liturgies
Eastern and Western, I: Eastern Liturgies (Oxford 1896). There is new material in: H.
Leclercq, Monumenta ecclesiae liturgica (Paris, I, 1902-13, V, 1904); W. Bulst, Hymni
latini antiquissimi (Heidelberg 1956) contains early Latin hymns.
The recent collection Opuscula et textus, series liturgica (Munster 1933) publishes select
liturgical texts, as does also: Liturgiegeschichtliche Quellen (Munster 1918 seqq.).
Recent critical editions, especially of Latin texts, are named at the appropriate places in
the present work; for them the following manuals on liturgy may be consulted: L. Eisen-
hofer, Handbuch der katholischen Liturgik (Freiburg i.Br., 2 vols. 1932-3); M. Righetti,
Manuale di storia liturgica, I-IV (Milan, 2nd ed. 1950-5); A.-G. Martimort (ed.),
Introduction a la liturgie (Paris 1961).
Fundamental works for the study of ancient liturgies are: L. Duchesne, Origines du culte
chretien (Paris, 5th ed. 1920), Eng. tr. Christian Worship. Its Origin and Evolution. A
Study of the Latin Liturgy up to the Time of Charlemagne (New York, 2nd ed. 1954);
J. M. Hanssens, Institutiones liturgicae de rebus orientalibus, 3 vols. (Rome 1930-2);
A. Baumstark, Liturgie comparee (Chevetogne, 3rd ed. 1953).
b) T he C reeds of the’ancient Church have been collected by A. Hahn, Bibliothek der

Symbole und Glaubensregeln (Hildesheim 1962). There is a selection in H. Lietzmann,
Ausgewahlte Symbole der alten Kirche, KIT 17-18 (Berlin, 3rd ed. 1931). Other collections
are: H. Denzinger, Enchiridion symbolorum (Freiburg i.Br., 31st ed. 1960), Eng. tr. The
Sources of Catholic Dogma (St.Louis 1957);F.Cavallera,TAes<*«r«s doctrinae catholicae ex
documentis magisterii ecclesiastici (Paris, 2nd ed. 1937). For the early Byzantine period:
J. N. Karmiris, Ta 8oyp.aTt.xa xal aup.(3oXixa pvrjpeia 1% ’ Op0o86£ou Ka9oXix%
449
BIBLIOGRAPHY
’ExxXTjalas (Athens, 2 vols. 1952-3, 2nd ed. 1960). See also: H. Lietzmann. “Symbolstudien”
in ZN W 21 (1922), 22 (1923), 24 (1925), 26 (1927), now contained in H. Lietzmann,
Kleine Schriften, III (Berlin 1962), 189-281; F. Kattenbusch, Das apostolische Symbol,
2 vols. (Leipzig 1894-1900, new impression Darmstadt 1964); J. de Ghellinck, Patristique
et Moyen Age, I: Les recherches depuis cinq siecles sur les origines du symbole des apotres
(Brussels, 2nd ed. 1949); F. J. Badcock, History of the Creeds (London, 2nd ed. 1938);
J. N. D. Kelly, Early Christian Creeds (London, 2nd ed. 1960).
c) T he A cts of the E arly C hristian C ouncils are to be found in the great collections
of J. Hardouin, Acta conciliorum et epistolae decretales ac constitutiones summorum
pontificum (Paris, 12 vols., 1714 seq.), and J. D. Mansi, Sacrorum conciliorum nova et
amplissima collectio (Florence-Venice 1759-98, new imp. and continuation, Lyons-Paris
1899-1927, new imp. Graz 1960-1). The Acts of the councils of Ephesus and Chalcedon
have been published in critical editions by E. Schwartz, Acta conciliorum oecumenicorum
(Berlin 1914 seqq.). Smaller editions of texts are: F. Lauchert, Die Kanones der wichtigsten
altkirchlichen Konzilien (Freiburg i. Br. 1896, new imp. Frankfurt 1961); E. J. Jonkers,
Acta et symbola conciliorum quae saeculo quarto habita sunt (Leiden 1954). The decrees
and canons of the early Christian Councils may now be conveniently found in Concili
orum oecumenicorum decreta, ed. J. Alberigo et alii (Freiburg i. Br. 1962).
A basic work for the history of the ancient councils is: C. J. von Hefele, Concilien-
geschichte I-III (Freiburg i. Br., 2nd ed. 1873-7), and the French translation (with sup
plementary matter by H. Leclerq, Histoire des Conciles d’apres les documents originaux,
I-III (Paris 1907-10). On the council of Chalcedon: Das Konzil von Chaldekon, ed. by
A. Grillmeier and H. Bacht, 3 vols. (Wurzburg 1951-4).
d) T he P rincipal P apal D ecrees of the early period have been published in

P. Coustant, Pontificum Romanorum a s. Clemente usque ad s. Leonem epistulae genuinae
(Paris 1721, Gottingen 1796), and A. Thiel, Epistulae Romanorum pontificum genuinae a s.
Hilaro usque ad Pelagium II, vol. I (Braunsberg 1867). A collection of the earliest Vitae
of the popes is contained in: Liber Pontificalis, ed. by L. Duchesne, 2 vols. (Paris 1907-15);
new ed. by C. Vogel in 3 vols. (ibid. 1955-7) The history of the early popes is related in
E. Caspar, Geschichte des Papsttums von den Anfangen bis zur Hohe der Weltherrschaft,
2 vols. (Tiibingen 1930-3); J. Haller, Das Papsttum. Idee und Wirklichkeit, I: Die Grund-
lagen (Urach - Stuttgart, 2nd ed. 1950); F. X. Seppelt, Geschichte der Papste, I: Der Auf-
stieg des Papsttums (Munich, 2nd ed. 1954).
E arly C h r is t ia n P apyri
Early Christian papyri form a body of source-material that is constantly increasing in
importance. Collections of papyri are being published, either in separate series or in special
periodicals. The following may be mentioned: Berliner griechische Urkunden (Berlin 1895
seqq.); The Oxyrhynchos Papyri (London 1898 seqq.); Papiri greci e latini della
Societa Italiana (Florence 1912 seqq.); Select Papyri, 3 vols. in the Loeb Classical Library,
ed. by A. S. Hunt, C. C. Edgar, and D. L. Page (London 1932-41).
Christian Texts only: C. Wessely, Les plus anciens monuments du christianisme ecrits sur
papyrus, POR 4, 2; 18, 3 (Paris 1907, 1924); G. Ghedini, Lettere Christiane dai papiri del
III0 e IV0 secolo (Milan 1923). Other letters: Aegyptus 34 (1954), 266-82. Liturgical texts:
C. del Grande, Liturgiae, preces hymni Christianorum e papyris collecti (Naples, 2nd ed.
1934); Aegyptus 36 (1956), 247-53, 37 (1957), 23-31.
Periodicals and ancillary studies: Archiv fur Papyrusforschung, ed. by U. Wilcken
450
BIBLIOGRAPHY
(Leipzig 1901 seqq.); Aegyptus, Rivista Italiana di Egittologia e Papirologia (Milan 1920
seqq.), with valuable bibliography and specializing in Christian texts. W. Schubert, Ein-
fiihrung in die Papyruskunde (Berlin 1918); K. Preisendanz, Papyrusfunde und Papyrus-
forschung (Leipzig 1933); A. Calderini, Manuale di papirologia antica greca e romana (Milan
1938, with bibliography, 176-92); F. Preisigke and E. Kiessling, Worterbuch der grie-
chischen Papyrusurkunden (Berlin 1925 seqq.); E. Mayser, Grammatik der griechischen
Papyri aus der Ptolemaerzeit (Berlin 1923-38); W. Schubert, Papyri Graecae Berolinenses
(Bonn 1911), ( = Tabulae in usum scbolarum, ed. J. Lietzmann, No. 2).
P h i l o l o g i c a l A i ds
For work on the written sources of early Church history, a knowledge of certain branches
of Classical studies, especially of philology, is indispensable. A. Gercke and E. Norden,
Einleitung in die klassische Altertumswissenschaft give an introduction to this subject
(3 vols., Leipzig, 3rd ed. 1921 seqq.). More comprehensive are the relevant volumes of the
Handbuch der Altertumswissenschaft latest revised editions, now ed. by H. Bengtson
(Munich 1955 seqq.).
A work of reference to be constantly consulted is: Paulys Realencyclopadie der klassischen
Altertumswissenschaft in the revised version of G. Wissowa, W. Kroll and K. Mittelhaus
(Stuttgart 1893 seqq.).
The most important Latin dictionaries are: C. du Cange, Glossarium ad scrip tores mediae
et infimae latinitatis, first published in 3 vols. (Paris 1678), many times reprinted and
enlarged, most recently by L. Favre, 10 vols. (Niort 1883-7); Thesaurus linguae latinae
(Leipzig 1900 seqq.); A. Souter, A Glossary of Later Latin to a.d . 600 (Oxford 1949);
A. Blaise, Dictionnaire latin-franqais des auteurs chretiens (Strasbourg 1954). See also
C. Mohrmann, Etudes sur le latin des chretiens, I (Rome 1961), II (Rome 1961); H. Nunn,
An Introduction to Ecclesiastical Latin (New York 1928); M. O’Brien, Titles of Address
in Christian Latin Epistolography (Washington 1930).
The most important Greek dictionaries are: H. Stephanus, Thesaurus graecae linguae,
latest ed. in 8 vols. (Paris 1831-55); H. G. Liddell and R. Scott, Greek-English Lexikon,
ed. by H. S. Jones and R. McKenzie (Oxford 1940); W. F. Arndt and F. W. Gingrich,
A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and other Early Christian Literature
(Chicago, 4th ed. 1957); Theologisches Worterbuch zum Neuen Testament, ed. by G. Kittel
and G. Friedrich (Stuttgart 1933 seqq.), Eng. tr. Theological Dictionary of the N ew Test.,
vol. I (Grand Rapids 1964); G. W. H. Lampe, A Greek Patristic Lexicon (Oxford 1961
seqq.); E. A. Sophocles, Greek Lexicon of the Roman and Byzantine Periods (a .d . 146 to
1100) (New York, 3rd ed. 1888). See also S. B. Psaltes, Grammatik der byzantinischen
Chroniken (Gottingen 1913); F. Blass and H. Debrunner, Grammatik des neutestament-
lichen Griechisch (Gottingen, 11th ed. 1961).
P alaeography: V. Gardthausen, Griechische Paldographie, 2 vols. (Leipzig, 2nd ed.

1911-13); B. A. van Groningen, Short Manual of Greek Palaeography (Leiden 1940);
R.Devreesse, Introduction a Vetude des manuscripts grecs (Paris 1954); H. Hunger, Studien
zur griechischen Paldographie (Vienna 1954); F. Steffens, Lateinische Paldographie (Trier,
2nd ed. 1907-9); B. Bretholz, Lateinische Paldographie (Leipzig-Berlin, 3rd ed. 1926);
G. Battelli, Lezioni di paleografia (Vatican City, 3rd ed. 1949); B. Bischoff, Paldographie
(Berlin, 2nd ed. 1957). To these may be added the vols. of facsimiles ed. by H. Lietzmann:
Specimina codicum graecorum Vaticanorum (Berlin, 2nd ed. 1929) and Specimina codicum
latinorum Vaticanorum (Berlin, 2nd ed. 1927), as well as the periodical Scriptorium (Ant
werp 1948 seqq.).
451
BIBLIOGRAPHY
P atrology
The above-mentioned sources are all systematically treated in the histories of early Chris
tian literature and in the manuals and textbooks of patrology, as follows: A. von Harnack,
Geschichte der altchristlicbcn Literatur, 3 vols. (Leipzig 1893-1904); new impression of
the 4th ed. with supplementary matter by K. Aland (Leipzig 1958); O. Bardenhewer,
Geschichte der altchristlichen Literatur, 5 vols. (Freiburg i. Br., I-III, 1913-23; IV, 1924;
V, 1932; repr. Darmstadt 1962). On Syriac writers: O. de Urbina, Patrologia Syriaca,
I (Rome 1958); M. Moricca, Storia della letteratura latina cristiana, 3 vols. (Turin
1924-34); A. Puech, Histoire de la litterature grecque chretienne, 3 vols. (Paris 1928-9);
F.Cayr£, Patrologie et histoire de la theologie, I: Precis de patrologie (Paris, 3rd ed. 1958),
Eng. tr. A Manual of Patrology and the History of Theology (Paris 1936), several new
editions have appeared; P. de Labriolle, Eng. tr. History and Literature of Christianity
from Tertullian to Boethius (London-New York, 2nd ed. 1947); F. Cross, The Early
Christian Fathers (London 1960); J. Quasten, Patrology, 3 vols. so far (Utrecht 1950-60);
B. Altaner, Patrology (Freiburg-London-New York, 2nd imp. 1960) from the fifth
German edition 1958.
Certain sections of patristic studies are dealt with in the following works: M. Manitius,
Geschichte der lateinischen Literatur des Mittelalters, I (Munich 1911, new imp. Graz
1959); F. J. E. Raby, A History of Christian Latin Poetry (Oxford, 3rd ed. 1953); H. G.
Beck, Kirche und theologische Literatur im byzantinischen Reich (Munich 1959, HAW);
P. Nautin, Lettres et ecrivains chretiens des IP et IIP siecles (Paris 1961); A. Siegmund,
Die Vberlieferung der griechisch-christlichen Literatur in der lateinischen Kirche (Munich
1939).
The works of the Eastern Christian writers are treated of in: A. Baumstark, Geschichte
der syrischen Literatur (Bonn 1922), with additions by A. Baumstark and A. Rucker in
the Handbuch der Orientalistik, III (Leiden 1954), 169-204; J. Chabot, La litterature
syriaque (Paris 1935); F. N . Fink, “Geschichte der armenischen Literatur” in Geschichte
der christlichen Literatur des Orients (Leipzig 1907); K. Riparian, Geschichte der arme
nischen Literatur, I (Venice 1944); H. Thorossian, Histoire de la litterature armenienne
(Paris 1951); G. Peradze, Die altchristliche Literatur in georgischer Vberlieferung, OrChr
3-8 (Wiesbaden 1930-3); J. Karst, Litterature georgienne chretienne (Paris 1934);
M. Tarchnisvili and J. Assfalg, Geschichte der kirchlichen georgischen Literatur (Rome
1955); O’Leary, “Literature copte” in DACL 9 (1930), 1599-635; S. Morenz, “Die kop-
tische Literatur” in Handbuch der Orientalistik, I (Leiden 1952), 207-19; W.Till, “Coptic
and its Value” in BJRL 40 (1957), 229-58, with bibliography; G. Graf, Geschichte der
christlichen arabischen Literatur, 5 vols. (Rome 1944-53).
The chief bibliographical aid for the whole field is now the Bibliographia Patristica, ed.
by W. Schneemelcher (Berlin 1956 seqq.). The Bulletin d'ancienne litterature chretienne
latine, since 1921 associated with the Revue Benedictine (Maredsous), is concerned only
with Christian Latin literature.
4 52
II. M ON UM EN TA L SOURCES
E arly C hri st ia n E pigraphy

Early Christian life, in so far as it has left “monuments” of itself (taking the term in its
widest sense), is the subject of Christian archaeology. One of this science’s most important
branches is early Christian epigraphy, which is the study of Latin and Greek Christian
inscriptions. These have mostly been collected according to localities; and among such
collections, that of the city of Rome is of particular significance: J. B. de Rossi, Inscrip-
tiones christianae urbis Romae, 2 vols. (Rome 1864—80), enlarged by J. Gatti with a
Supplement to vol. I (Rome 1915). The continuation of this work has been undertaken by
A. Silvagni, Inscriptiones christianae urbis Romae, Nova Series, 3 vols. (Rome 1934-56).
See also H. Zilliacus, Sylloge inscriptionum christianarum veterum Musei Vaticani, I-II
(Helsinki 1963); I. Kajanto, Onomastic Studies in the Early Christian Inscriptions of Rome
and Carthage (Helsinki 1963).
Next come the collections for separate countries: E. le Blant, Inscriptions chretiennes de
la Gaule, 3 vols. (Paris 1856-92, new imp. Paris 1923); A. Hiibner, Inscriptiones
Britanniae christianae (Berlin-London 1876); E. Egli, Die christlichen Inschriften der
Schweiz (Zurich 1895); S. Gsell, Inscriptions latines d’Algerie, I-II (Paris 1922-57);
A. L. Delattre, Vepigraphie funeraire chretienne a Carthage (Tunis 1926); J. Vives,
Inscripciones cristianas de la Espana romana y visigoda (Barcelona 1942, supplement
Barcelona 1942); F. X. Kraus, Die christlichen Inschriften der Rheinlande, 2 vols. (Frei
burg i. Br. 1890-4), now superseded by F. Gose, Katalog der fruhchristlichen Inschriften
in Trier (Berlin 1958); G. Behrens, Das friihchristliche und merowingische Mainz (Mainz
1950); J. B. Ward Perkins and J. M. Reynolds, Inscriptions of Roman Tripolitania
(Rome 1952).
The principal early Christian Latin inscriptions from all areas where discoveries have
been made have been collected and explained by E. Diehl in Inscriptiones latinae chris
tianae veteres, 3 vols. (Berlin 1925-31).
Greek-Christian inscriptions have been published in: L. Jalabert, R. Mouterde and
C. Mond£sert, Inscriptions grecques (et latines) de la Syrie, 4 vols. (Paris 1929-55);
W. H. Buckler, W. M. Calder and W. K. C. Guthrie, Monuments and Documents from
Eastern Asia and Western Galatia, Monumenta Asiae Minoris Antiqua, IV (Manchester
1933); W. H. Buckler and W. M. Calder, Monuments and Documents from Phrygia and
Caria, ibid. VI (Manchester 1939); H. Lietzmann, N. A. Bees, and G. Sotiriu, Die
griechisch-christlichen Inschriften des Peloponnes-Isthmos-Korinth (Athens 1941);
J. S. Creaghan and A. E. Raubitschek, Early Christian Epitaphs from Athens (Woodstock
1947). New discoveries are reported in the Supplementum epigraphicum graecum (Leiden
1923 seqq.).
A ids to the study of Christian epigraphy: the following articles give a general account
of the subject: L. Jalabert and R. Mouterde, “Inscriptions grecques chretiennes” in DACL
VII, 623-94; H. Leclerq, “Inscriptions latines chretiennes”, ibid. 694-850. On the growth
of the great collections of inscriptions, see 850-1089. Manuals and textbooks: R. Cagnat,
Cours d’epigraphie latine (Paris, 4th ed. 1914); W. Larfeld, Griechische Epigraphik
(Munich, 3rd ed. 1914); C. M. Kaufmann, Handbuch der altchristlichen Epigraphik (Frei
burg i. Br. 1917); P. Testini, “Epigrafia” in Archeologia cristiana (Rome 1959), 327-543.
Two volumes of the Tabulae in usum scholarum ed. by H. Lietzmann, give specimens:
No. 4, Inscriptiones latinae, compiled by E. Diehl (Bonn 1912), and No. 7, Inscriptiones
graecae, compiled by O. Kern (Bonn 1913). For the bibliography of the subject, see:
Rivista di archeologia cristiana (Rome 1924 seqq.); Fasti archeologici (Florence 1948 seqq.).
453
BIBLIOGRAPHY
N umismatics
In recent times the ancillary science of numismatics has made a considerable contribution
to our understanding of the history of the Church under the Christian emperors. The
older bibliography is to be found in H. Leclercq, “Monnaie” in DACL XI, 2260-350.
Further bibliographies in J. Babelon, “Monnaie” in DBS V (1957), 1346-75, and
P. Grierson, Coins and Medals, A Select Bibliography (London 1954). The coins of
imperial times have been collected and described by H. Mattingly and E. A. Sydenham,
The Roman Imperial Coinage (London 1923 seqq.), of which vol. IX contains the coins
of Valcntinian I to those of Theodosius I; that containing those of Constantine is in
preparation. Until it appears, consult J. Maurice, Numismatique constantinienne, 3 vols.
(Paris 1906-13). Other important works: A. Alfoldi, Die Kontorniaten (Budapest 1943);
M. Bernhard, Handbuch zur Miinzkunde der romischen Kaiserzeit, 2 vols. (Halle 1926).
For a critical evaluation see V. Schultze, “Christliche Miinzpragung unter Constantin”
in ZKG 44 (1925), 321-7; K. Kraft, “Silbermedaillon Constantins des Groflen mit dem
Christusmonogramm auf dem Helm” in Jahrbuch fiir Numismatik 5-6 (1954-5), 151-78;
G. Bruck, “Die Verwendung christlicher Symbole auf Miinzen von Constantin I bis
Magnentius” in Numismatische Zeitschrift 6 (1955), 26-32.
E arly C h r i s t i a n B urial
Early Christian methods of burial are also an important subject of archaeological study,
centred largely on Rome. See: J. B. de Rossi, La Roma sotterranea cristiana, 3 vols.
(Rome 1864-77); P. Styger, Altchristliche Grabeskunst (Augsburg 1927); idem, Die
romischen Katakomben (Berlin 1933); idem, Romische Mdrtyrergriifte (Berlin 1935);
L. Hertling and E. Kirschbaum, Die romischen Katakomben und ihre Martyrer (Vienna,
2nd ed. 1955); J. Wilpert, Die Malereien der Katakomben Roms, 2 vols. (Freiburg i. Br.
1903); F. Wirth, Romische Wandmalerei (Berlin 1934); S. Bettini, Friihchristliche Malerei
(Vienna 1942); J. Wilpert, I sarcofagi cristiani antichi, 3 vols. (Rome 1929-36); F. Gerke,
Die christlichen Sarkophage der vorkonstantinischen Zeit (Berlin 1940); G. Bovini,
I sarcofagi paleocristiani (Rome 1949); C. Cecchelli, Monumenti cristiano-eretici di Roma
(Rome 1944).
C hr istian A rchaeology and A rt

Manuals and periodicals concerning Christian archaeology and accounts of early Chris
tian art: C. M. Kaufmann, Handbuch der christlichen Archdologie (Paderborn,3rded. 1922);
R. Krautheimer, Corpus basilicarum christianarum Romae (Rome 1937 seqq.); C. Cecchelli,
Iconografia dei papi (Rome 1938 seqq.); B. Ladner, Papstbildnisse des Altertums und des
Mittelalters, I (Rome 1941); P. Testini, Archaeologia cristiana (Rome 1959); O. Wulff,
Altchristliche und byzantinische Kunst (Berlin, 2nd ed. 1919, supplement Berlin 1939);
O. M. Dalton, Eastern Christian Art (Oxford 1925); C. R. Morey, Early Christian Art
(Princeton, 2nd ed. 1953); D. T. Rice, The Beginnings of Christian Art (London 1957);
W. F. Volbach and M. Hirmer, Eng. tr. Early Christian Art (London 1961); F. van der
Meer and C. Mohrmann, Eng. tr. Atlas of the Early Christian World (London 1958);
Bollettino di archeologia cristiana (Rome 1863-94) and Nuovo Bollettino di archeologia
cristiana (Rome 1895-1923); Rivista di archeologia cristiana (Rome 1924 seqq.) with
bibliography; Romische Quartalschrift fiir christliche Altertumskunde und fur Kirchen-
geschichte (Freiburg i.Br. 1887 seqq.); Cahiers archeologiques (Paris 1945 seqq.); Jahr
buch fiir Antike und Christentum (Munster 1958 seqq.); Atti del III0 congresso inter-
nazionale di archeologia cristiana (Rome 1934); Atti del IV0 congresso, 2 vols. (Rome
1940-8); Actes du V® congres (Paris 1957); F. X. Kraus, Realencyclopadie der christlichen
Altertiimer, 2 vols. (Freiburg i. Br. 1882-6); Dictionnaire d'archeologie chretienne et de
liturgie, 15 vols. (Paris 1907-53).
454
III. H I S TO R IE S OF THE EARLY C H U R C H
G eneral
P. BatifFol, Le catholicisme des origines a s. Leon, 4 vols. (Paris, 3rd to 5th cd. 1911-30),
many times reprinted; B. J. Kidd, A History of the Church to . . 461 (Oxford 1922);
a d
L. Duchesne, Histoire ancienne de I’eglise, 3 vols. (Paris, 3rd to 5th ed. 1923-9), Eng. tr.
Early History of the Christian Church (New York 1924) from the 1st French edition;
idem, L’eglise au VIe siecle (Paris 1925); G. Kruger, Handbuch der Kirchengeschichte, I
(Tubingen, 2nd ed. 1923); J. Zeiller, L’empire romain et I’eglise (Paris 1928); J. P. Kirsch,
Kirchengeschichte, I (Freiburg i.Br. 1930); C. Poulet, Eng. tr. History of the Primitive
Church, 4 vols. (New York 1942-8); A. Ehrhard, Die Kirche der Martyrer (Munich 1932);
idem, Die katholische Kirche im Wandel der Zeiten und Volker, 2 vols. (Bonn 1935-7);
A. Fliche and V. Martin, Histoire de I’eglise, I-V (Paris 1935-8), Eng. tr. A History of
the Catholic Church, 2 vols. (London-St Louis, 2nd ed. 1956); F. Heiler, Die katholische
Kirche des Ostens und Westens, I (Munich 1937); H. Lother, Geschichte des Christentums,
I (Leipzig 1939); J. von Walter, Die Geschichte des Christentums, I (Gutersloh, 2nd ed.
1939); K. Muller, Kirchengeschichte, 1/1 (Tubingen, 3rd ed. 1941); P. Hughes, A History
of the Church, I (London, 2nd ed. 1948); E. Buonaiuti, Geschichte des Christentums, I
(Berne 1948); C. Schneider, Geistesgeschichte des antiken Christentums, 2 vols. (Munich
1954); P. Carrington, The Early Church (1st and 2nd centuries), 2 vols. (Cambridge
1957); H. Lietzmann, Geschichte der Alten Kirche, 4 vols. (Berlin, 3rd-4th edd. 1961),
Eng. tr. A History of the Early Church, 4 vols. (London 1937-51); K. Bihlmeyer and
H. Tuchle, Kirchengeschichte, I (Paderborn, 13th ed. 1962), Eng. tr. Church History, I
(Westminster, Md. 1958); K. D. Schmidt and E. Wolf (ed.). Die Kirche in ihrer Geschichte
Gottingen 1962 seqq., in parts); The Christian Centuries, edd. L. J. Rogier et alii, vol. I,
J. Danielou and H.Marrou, The First Six Hundred Years (London-New York 1964).
H istories of D ogma
A. von Harnack, Lehrbuch der Dogmengeschichte, 3 vols. (Tubingen, 5th ed. 1931, new
imp. in preparation), Eng. tr. History of Dogma, 7 vols. (New York 1962); idem,
Dogmengeschichte (Grundrifi) (Tubingen, 7th ed. 1931), Eng. tr. Outline of the History
of Dogma (London 1962); R. Seeberg, Lehrbuch der Dogmengeschichte, I-II (Leipzig,
2nd ed. 1922, new imp. Darmstadt 1960), Eng. tr. Textbook of the History of Doctrines
(Grand Rapids 1956); idem, Grundrijl der Dogmengeschichte (Leipzig, 7th ed. 1936);
J. Tixeront, Histoire des dogmes dans I’antiquite chretienne, 3 vols. (I, 11th ed. Paris
1930, II, 9th ed. 1931; III, 8th ed. 1928), Eng. tr. History of Dogmas, from the 5th French
ed. (St Louis-London 1928-32); F. Loofs, Leitfaden zum Studium der Dogmengeschichte
(Tubingen, 6th ed. 1959); K. Priimm, Der christliche Glaube und die altheidnische Welt,
2 vols. (Leipzig 1935); idem, Christentum als Neuheitserlebnis (Freiburg i.Br. 1939).
W. Koehler, Dogmengeschichte als Geschichte des christlichen Selbstbewufltseins (Leipzig,
2nd ed. 1951); H. von Campenhausen, Kirchliches Amt und geistliche Vollmacht in den
ersten drei Jahrhunderten (Tubingen 1953); M. Werner, Die Entstehung des christlichen
Dogmas (Tiibingen, 2nd ed. 1954), Eng. tr. The Formation of Christian Dogma (New York
1957); A. E. W. Turner, The Pattern of Christian Truth (London 1954); M. Schmaus,
J. R. Geiselmann and A. Grillmeier, Handbuch der Dogmengeschichte (Freiburg i. Br.
1951 seqq.), Eng. tr. The Herder History of Dogma: B. Poschmann, Penance and the
Anointing of the Sick (Freiburg-London-New York-Montreal 1964) and B. Neunheuser,
Baptism and Confirmation (Freiburg-London-New York-Montreal 1964); J.N.D.Kelly,
455
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Early Christian Doctrines (London 1958); J. Dani^lou, Histoire des doctrines chretiennes
avant Nicee, 2 vols. (Tournai 1958-61); A. Grillmeier, “Hellenisierung-Judaisierung des
Christentums als Deutungsprinzipien der Geschichte des kirchlichen Dogmas” in
Scholastik 33 (1958), 321-55 528-58.
S pecial S ubjects
J. Stelzenberger, Die Beziehungen der friihchristlichen Sittenlehre zur Ethik der Stoa
(Munich 1933); M. Viller and K. Rahner, Aszese und Mystik der Vaterzeit (Freiburg i. Br.
1939); P. Pourrat, La spiritualite chretienne, I (Paris, 3rd ed. 1943), Eng. tr. Christian
Spirituality (Westminster 1954); L. Bouyer, La spiritualite du Nouveau Testament et des
Peres (Paris 1960), Eng. tr. The Spirituality of the N ew Testament and the Fathers (New
York 1963); A. von Harnack, Die Mission und Ausbreitung des Christentums in den
ersten drei Jahrhunderten (Leipzig, 4th ed. 1924; a new imp. is projected), Eng. tr. The
Mission and Expansion of Christianity in the First Three Centuries (New York 1937);
K. S. Latourette, A History of the Expansion of Christianity, I: The First Five Centuries
(New York 1937); G. Schniirer, Kirche und Kultur im Mittelalter, I (Paderborn, 3rd ed.
1936), Eng. tr. Church and Culture in the Middle Ages (Patterson 1956); J. H. Waszink
et alii, Het oudste Christendom en de antieke cultuur (down to Irenaeus), 2 vols. (Haarlem
1951); C. N. Cochrane, Christianity and Classical Culture (New York, second edition 1944,
new impression 1957); W. Durant, Caesar and Christ. A History of Roman Civilization
and of Christianity from the Beginnings to a .d . 325 (New York 1944); W. Jaeger,
Early Christianity and Greek Paideia (Cambridge, Mass. 1961); H. Eibl, Augustin
und die Patristik, Geschichte der Philosophic in Einzeldarstellungen, III, 10/11
(Munich 1923); B. Geyer, Die patristische und scholastische Philosophic in F. Ueberweg,
GrundrifS der Geschichte der Philosophic, II (Berlin, 11th ed. 1928, new imp. in
preparation); K. Priimm, Religionsgeschichtliches Handbuch fiir den Raum der altchrist-
lichen Welt (Freiburg i. Br. 1943, new imp. Rome 1954); E. Kornemann, Weltgeschichte des
Mittelmeerraumes, II: Von Augustus bis zum Sieg der Araber (Munich 1949); F. Lot, La
fin du monde antique (Paris 1951), Eng. tr. The End of the Ancient World (New York,
2nd ed. 1961); E. Stein, Histoire du Bas-Empire, I (a .d . 284-476) (Paris, 2nd ed. 1959), H
(a .d . 475-565) (Paris 1949); L. Br&iier, Le monde byzantin, 3 vols. (Paris 1947-50);
G. Ostrogorsky, Geschichte des byzantinischen Staates (Munich, 3rd ed. 1963), Eng tr.
History of the Byzantine State (New Brunswick, 2nd ed. 1957).
IV. W O R K S OF R E F E R E N C E , P E R I O D I C A L S ,
A N D BIBLIOGRAPHIES
W orks of R eference
Besides the special lexica already mentioned, the following are important: The Catholic
Encyclopedia, 15 vols. (New York 1907-12; supplementary volume, 1922), new
encyclopedia in preparation; Catholicisme, Hier-Aujourd'hui-Demain, ed. by G.
Jacquement (Paris 1928 seqq.); Dictionnaire de la Bible, Supplement, ed. by L. Pirot and
A. Robert (Paris 1928 seqq.); Dictionnaire de droit canonique, ed. by R. Naz (Paris 1935
seqq.); Dictionnaire d‘histoire et de geographic ecclesiastique, ed. by A. Baudrillart, A. de
Meyer, E. van Cauwenbergh and R. Aubert (Paris 1912 seqq.); Dictionnaire de spiri
tualite ascetique et mystique, ed. by M. Villier, M. Olphe Gailliard, A. Rayez, and
C. Baumgartner (Paris 1932 seqq.); Dictionnaire de theologie catholique, ed. by A. Vacant,
E. Mangenot, and E. Amann (Paris 1930 seqq.); Enciclopedia cattolica, 12 vols. (Vatican
City 1949-54); Evangelisches Kirchenlexikon, ed. by H. Brunotte and O. Weber (Got-
456
BIBLIOGRAPHY
tingen 1955 seqq.); Lexikon fiir Theologie und Kirche, ed. by J. Hofer and K. Rahner,
(Freiburg, 2nd ed. 1957 seqq.); Reallexikon fiir Antike und Christentum, ed. by T. Klauser
(Stuttgart 1950 seqq.); Die Religion in Geschichte und Gegenwart, ed. by K. Galling
(Tubingen, 3rd. ed. 1957 seqq.); P. Gams, Series episcoporum ecclesiae catholicae (Regens
burg 1873; supplements 1879-86; new imp. Graz 1957); E. Bayer, Worterbuch zur Ge
schichte (Stuttgart 1960); The Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church, F. L. Cross ed.
(London 1957); K. Pieper, Atlas orbis antiqui (Diisseldorf 1931); K. Heussi and FI. Mulert,
Atlas zur Kirchengeschichte (Tubingen, 3rd ed. 1937); B. Llorca, Atlas y cuadros
sincronicos de historia eclesiastica (Barcelona 1950); R. S. Dell, An Atlas of Christian
History (London 1960); J. G. T. Graesse, Orbis latinus. Verzeichnis der wichtigsten Orts-
und LHndernamen (Berlin, 3rd ed. 1922).
P eriodicals
Periodicals, most of which contain extensive book reviews, specially devoted to the study
of early Christianity: Antike und Christentum, by F. J. Dolger, I-VI (Munster 1929-50);
Biblica (Rome 1920 seqq.) with bibliography of primitive Christianity; Jahrbuch fiir
Antike und Christentum (Munster 1958 seqq.); Jahrbuch fiir Liturgiewissenschaft, I-XV
(Munster 1921—41); Archiv fiir Liturgiewissenschaft (Regensburg 1950 seqq.); Liturgisches
Jahrbuch (Munster 1951 seqq.); Revue des Etudes Augustiniennes (Paris 1955 seqq.);
Vigiliae Christianae (Amsterdam 1947 seqq.); Zeitschrift fiir neutestamentliche Wissen-
schaft und die Kunde der alteren Kirche (Giessen-Berlin 1900 seqq.).
Among the theological periodicals which give considerable space to matters concerning
the early Church, the following are worthy of special mention: Analecta Sacra Tarra-
gonensia (Barcelona 1925 seqq.); Bulletin of the John Rylands Library (Manchester 1903
seqq.); Bulletin de litterature ecclesiastique (Toulouse 1899 seqq.); Byzantion (Brussels
1924 seqq.); Biblische Zeitschrift (Freiburg 1903-29, Paderborn 1931-39, 1957 seqq.);
Church History (New York-Chicago 1932 seqq.); The Catholic Historical Review
(Washington 1915 seqq.); Dumbarton Oaks Papers (Cambridge, Mass. 1941 seqq.);
Estudios eclesiasticos (Madrid 1922-36, 1942 seqq.); Echos d’Orient (Paris 1892-1942);
Ephemerides Theologicae Lovanienses (Bruges 1924 seqq.); Evangelische Theologie (Munich
1934 seqq.); Gregorianum (Rome 1920 seqq.); Geist und Leben (Wurzburg 1947 seqq.);
Historisches Jahrbuch (Cologne 1880 seqq., Munich 1950 seqq.); The Harvard Theological
Review (Cambridge, Mass. 1908 seqq.); Irenikon (Amay-Chevetogne, Belgium 1926 seqq.);
Journal of Ecclesiastical History (London 1950 seqq.); Jahrbuch fiir Liturgik und
Hymnologie (Cassel 1955 seqq.); Journal of Theological Studies (London 1899 seqq.);
Melanges de science religieuse (Lille 1944 seqq.); Miinchener Theologische Zeitschrift
(Munich 1950 seqq.); Nouvelle RevueTheologique (Tournail879 seqq.); OriensChristianus
(Wiesbaden 1901 seqq.); Orientalia Christiana Periodica (Rome 1935 seqq.); UOrient
syrien (Paris 1956 seqq.); Ostkirchliche Studien (Wurzburg 1951 seqq.); Le Proche-Orient
Chretien (Jerusalem 1951 seqq.); Revue d’ascetique et de mystique (Toulouse 1920 seqq.);
Revue Benedictine (Maredsous 1884 seqq.); Revue des Etudes byzantines (Paris 1946 seqq.);
Revue des Etudes Grecques (Paris 1888 seqq.); Revue des Etudes latines (Paris 1923 seqq.);
Revue des Sciences Religieuses (Strasbourg 1921 seqq.); Revue d'histoire et de philosophic
religieuses (Strasbourg 1921 seqq.); Revue de Vhistoire des religions (Paris 1880 seqq.);
Revue de I’Orient chretien (Paris 1896 seqq.); Revue de Qumran (Paris 1958 seqq.);
Revue des sciences philosophiques et theologiques (Paris 1907 seqq.); Recherche de science
religieuse (Paris 1910 seqq.); Rivista di storia della chiesa in Italia (Rome 1947 seqq.);
Studia Anselmiana (Rome 1933 seqq.); Sacris erudiri (Bruges 1948 seqq.); Studia Catholica
(Roermond 1924 seqq.); Theologische Literaturzeitung (Leipzig-Berlin 1878 seqq.); Theo
logische Quartalschrift (Tiibingen 1819 seqq., Stuttgart 1946 seqq.); Theological Studies
457
BIBLIOGRAPHY
(Baltimore 1940 seqq.); Theologische Zeitscbrift (Basle 1945 seqq.); Traditio (New York
1943 seqq.); Trierer Theologische Zeitscbrift (Trier 1888 seqq.); Zeitscbrift fiir Askese
und Mystik (Innsbruck-Munich 1926 seqq.); Zeitscbrift fiir Kirchengeschichte (Stuttgart
1876 seqq.); Zeitscbrift fiir Katholische Theologie (Innsbruck-Vienna 1877 seqq.); Zeit-
schrift fiir Theologie und Kirche (Tubingen 1891 seqq.).
B ibliographies
The most comprehensive periodical bibliography for the whole field of ecclesiastical
history is contained in Revue d’bistoire ecclesiastique (Louvain 1900 seqq.) Another
important publication is Bulletin de theologie ancienne et medievale, which is published
in association with Recherches de theologie ancienne et medievale (Louvain 1929 seqq.).
The following also contain critical reviews of works on the early history of the Church:
Theologische Rundschau (Tubingen 1897 seqq.) and Theologische ReVue (Miinster 1902
seqq.), section 5, in the bibliographical appendix.
458
B IB L IO G R A P H Y T O I N D I V I D U A L C H A P T E R S
Part One: The Beginnings
S E C T IO N O N E
Jewish Christianity
1. Judaism in the Time of Jesus
G eneral
C. K. Barret, The N ew Testament Background: Selected Documents (London-New York
1957), H. Strack and P. Billerbeck, Kommentar zum Neuen Testament aus Talmud und
Midrasch, 5 vols. (Munich 1922-56); R. A. Pfeiffer, History of N ew Testament Times
(New York 1948); R. Grant, A Historical Introduction to the N ew Testament (London-
New York 1963); R. Bultmann, Primitive Christianity in its Contemporary Setting
(London-New York 1957); W. O. E. Oesterley, The Jews and Judaism during the Greek
Period (London 1941); J. Parkes, The Foundations of Judaism and Christianity (London
1960); H. J. Schoeps, Theologie und Geschichte des Judenchristentums (Tubingen 1949);
idem, Aus fruhchristlicher Zeit (Tubingen 1950); idem, Urgemeinde, Judenchristentum.
Gnosis (Tubingen 1956); J. Danielou, The Theology of Jewish Christianity (London 1964);
K. Schubert, Die Religion des Nachbiblischen Judentums (Freiburg-Vienna 1955); W.
Bousset, Die Religion des Judentums im spathellenischen Zeitalter (Tubingen, 3rd ed.
1926); N . Levison, The Jewish Background of Christianity (Edinburgh 1932); P. Riessler,
Altjiidisches Schrifttum auflerhalb der Bibel (Augsburg 1928); J. Jeremias, Jerusalem zur
Zeit Jesu (Gottingen, 2nd ed. 1962); F. Notscher, Vom Alten zum Neuen Testament
(Bonn 1962); B. Gerhardsson, Memory and Manuscript: Oral Tradition in Rabbinic
Judaism and Early Christianity (Uppsala 1961).
P al est in ia n J udaism
E. Schurer, A History of the Jewish People in the Time of Jesus Christ, 3 vols. (Edinburgh
1886-90, abridged ed. New York 1961); W. O. E. Oesterley and T. A. Robinson, A
History of Israel, 2 vols. (Oxford 1932); F.-M. Abel, Histoire de la Palestine, 2 vols.
(Paris 1952); M. Noth, The History of Israel (London, 2nd rev. ed. 1960).
G. F. Moore, Judaism in the First Centuries of the Christian Era, 3 vols. (2nd ed.
Cambridge, Mass. 1946-8); J. Bonsirven, Palestinian Judaism in the Time of Christ (New
York 1963); P. Demann, Juda'isme (New York 1961); L. Finkelstein, The Jews, their
History, Culture and Religion, 2 vols. (New York, 3rd ed. 1960); M. Hengel, Die Zeloten,
Untersuchungen zur jiidischen Freiheitsbewegung in der Zeit von Herodes I bis 70 v. Chr.
(Leiden-Cologne 1961); R. Travers Herford, The Pharisees (Boston, 2nd ed. 1962);
M. Simon, Die jiidischen Sekten zur Zeit Jesu (Cologne, 2nd ed. 1962).
Q umran
Bibliography in the Revue de Qumran (Paris 1958 seqq.), earlier see C. Burchard, Biblio
graphic zu den Handschriften vom Toten Meer (Berlin 1957, vol. II, 1964); W. S. Lasor,
459
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Bibliography of the Dead Sea Scrolls 1948-1957 (Pasadena 1958); H. Bardtke, Die Hand-
schriften vom Toten Meer, 2 vols. (Berlin 1952-8); idem, Qumran-Probleme (Berlin 1963);
M. Burrows, The Dead Sea Scrolls (New York 1955); idem, More Light on the Dead Sea
Scrolls (New York 1958); J. T. Milik, Ten Years of Discovery in the Wilderness of Judaea
(London 1959); F. M. Cross, The Ancient Library of Qumran (New York 1958); J. P. M.
van der Ploeg, The Excavations at Qumran (London 1958); F. Bruce, Biblical Exegesis in
the Qumran Texts (Grand Rapids 1959); K. H. Rengstorf, Hirbet Qumran und die Biblio-
thek vom Toten Meer (Stuttgart 1960); J. Schreiden, Les enigmes des manuscripts de la
mer morte (Wetteren 1961); A. Dupont-Sommer, The Essene Writings from Qumran
(Oxford 1961); J. Maier, Die Texte vom Toten Meer, 2 vols. (Munich 1961); G. Vermes,
The Dead Sea Scrolls in English (London 1962); J. Carmignac, Christ and the Teacher
of Righteousness (Baltimore 1962); H. Ringgren, The Faith of Qumran (Philadelphia 1963);
F. Bruce, Second Thoughts on the Dead Sea Scrolls (London, 2nd ed. 1961); L. Mowry, The
Dead Sea Scrolls and the Early Church (Chicago 1962); A .N . Gilkes, The Impact of the
Dead Sea Scrolls (London 1963); M. Baillet-J. T. M ilik-R . de Vaux, Les petites grottes
de Qumran (2Q, 3Q, 5Q-10Q). Le rouleau de cu'tvre (Oxford 1962); E. Lohse, Die Texte
aus Qumran hebraisch und deutsch (Munich 1964); A. Braun, “Research reports on
Qumran and N. T.” in ThR 28 (1962); 29 (1963); 30 (1964); F. Notscher, Zur theo-
logischen Terminologie der Qumran-Texte (Bonn 1956); D. Howlett, The Essenes and
Christianity (New York 1957); H. Braun, Spatjudischer und friihchristlicher Radikalis-
mus, I, Das Spatjudentum (Tubingen 1957); K. Schubert, Die Gemeinde von Qumran
(Munich 1958); H. E. Del Medico, Le mythe des esseniens (Paris 1958); H. Kosmala,
Hebraer, Essener, Christen (Leiden 1959); O. Betz, Offenbarung und Schriftforscloung in
den Qumrantexten (Tubingen 1960); E. F. Sutcliffe, The Monks of Qumran (London 1960);
K. H. Schelkle, Die Gemeinde von Qumran und die Kirche des Neuen Testamentes (Dussel-
dorf 1960); A. Adam, Antike Berichte iiber die Essener (Berlin 1961); H. H. Rowley, “The
Qumran Sect and Christian Origins” in BJRL 44 (1961), 119-56; M. Black, The Scrolls
and Christian Origins (New York 1961).
T he J e wi s h D iaspora
J. Juster, Les juifs dans Tempire romain, 2 vols. (Paris 1914); W. Bousset, Jiidisch-christ-
licher Schulbetrieb in Alexandrien und Rom (Gottingen 1915); H. J. Bell, Jews and
Christians in Egypt (Oxford 1924); H. Leon, The Jews of Ancient Rome (Philadelphia
1960); J. Leipoldt, Antisemitismus in der alten Welt (Leipzig 1933); V. Tscherikover,
Hellenistic Civilization and the Jews (Philadelphia 1959); W. Maurer, Kirche und Syn-
agoge (Stuttgart 1953); L. Toombs, The Threshold of Christianity (Philadelphia 1960).
P hilo
Critical collected ed. by L. Cohn, P. Wendland, S. Reiter, and J. Leisegang, 8 vols. (Berlin
1896-1930); text with English trans. by F.-H. Colson, G. Whitaker (London 1928-52);
text with French trans. by R. Arnaldez, C. Mond^sert et alii (Paris 1961); general account
by H. Leisegang in Pauly-Wissowa 19, 1-50; E. Brehier, Les idees philosophiques et
religieuses de Philon (Paris, 2nd ed. 1925); E. Stein, Die allegorische Exegese des Philo
aus Alex. (Giefien 1929); J. Pascher, Der Konigsweg der Wiedergeburt und Vergottung
bei Philo von Alex. (Paderborn 1931); I. Heinemann, Philons griechische und jiidische
Bildung (Breslau 1932); W. Volker, Fortschritt und Vollendung bei Philo von Alex. (Leip
zig 1938); E. R. Goodenough, The Politics of Philo Judaeus (New Haven 1938); P. Katz,
Philo's Bible (Cambridge 1950); H. A. Wolfson, Philo, 2 vols. (Cambridge, Mass., 2nd ed.
1948); S. Sandmel, Philo's Place in Judaism (Cincinnati-New York 1956); H. Thyen,
“Die Probleme der neueren Philoforschung” in ThR 23 (1955), 230-46; J. Dani61ou,
460
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Philon d’Alexandrie (Paris 1958); S. Jellicose, “Philo and the Septuagint Vorlage” in
JThS XII (1961), 261-71; R. Marcus, “Philo, Josephus and the Dead See Yahod (meaning
community)” in JBL 71 (1952), 207-9; S. Lauer, “Philo’s Concept of Time” in Journal
of Jewish Studies 9 (1959), 39-46; H. Wolfson, “Philonic God and his latter-day deniers”
in HThR 53 (1960), 101-24; J. de Savignac, “Le messianisme de Philon d’Alexandrie” in
NovT 4 (1960), 318-24.
2. Jesus of Nazareth and the Church
General Accounts by A. Conzelmann in RGG, 3rd ed. I ll, 619-53; and A. Vogtle in
LThK V, 922-32; A. Schweitzer, The Quest for the Historical Jesus (Oxford 1954).
L. de Grandmaison, Jesus Christ, 3 vols. (New York 1930-4); J. Lebreton, The Life and
Teaching of Jesus Christ (New York, new imp. 1957); A. Goodier, The Public Life of
Our Lord Jesus Christ (New York, new imp. 1950); G. Ricciotti, Life of Jesus (Milwaukee
1950); R. Guardini, The Lord (London 1956); J. Klausner, Jesus of Nazareth (1925);
M. Dibelius, Jesus (Oxford-Philadelphia 1949); R. Bultmann, Jesus (New York 1958);
G. Bomkamm, Jesus of Nazareth (London 1960, New York 1963); M. Goguel, Jesus and
the Origins of Christianity (New York 1963); E. Stauffer, Jesus and his Story (London
1960).
J. Aufhauser, Antike Jesus-Zeugnisse (Berlin, 2nd ed. 1925); J. Moreau, Les plus anciens
temoignages profanes sur Jesus (Brussels 1944); W. Bousset, Kyrios Christos (Gottingen,
4th ed. 1935); R. Bultmann, History of the Synoptic Tradition (New York-Oxford 1963);
J. M. Robinson, A N ew Quest for the Historical Jesus (1959); H. Zabrut, The Historical
Jesus (London 1963); F.-M. Braun, Jesus, histoire et critique (Paris 1947); B. Rigaux,
“Historicity de Jesus devant l’ex£gese r£cente” in RB 65 (1958), 482-522; R. Schubert (ed.),
Der historische Jesus und der kerygmatische Christus (Freiburg i. Br. 1960); J. Blinzler,
The Trial of Jesus (Westminster, Md., 1959).
R. Schnackenburg, New Testament Theology Today (London-New York 1963); R. Bult
mann, The Theology of the New Testament, 2 vols. (London 1952-6); E. Stauffer, New
Testament Theology (London 1957); R. Schnackenburg, God's Rule and Kingdom (Frei
burg-London-N ew York-Montreal 1963); J. Bonsirven, Theology of the N ew Testament
(Westminster, Md. 1964).
3. The Primitive Church at Jerusalem
F. F. Bruce, The Acts of the Apostles, Greek Text and Commentary (London 1951);
F. J. Foakes-Jackson, Acts of the Apostles, 5 vols. (London 1920-33); E. Haenchen, Die
Apostelgeschichte (Gottingen 1959); A. Wikenhauser, Die Apostelgeschichte (Regensburg,
3rd ed. 1956); M. Dibelius, Studies in the Acts of the Apostles (New York 1956);
J. Dupont, The Sources of Acts (New York-London 1962); A. Ehrhardt, “The Con
struction and Purpose of the Acts of the Apostles” in StTh 12 (1958), 45-79.
E. Meyer, Ursprung und Anfdnge des Christentums (Berlin 1923); A. Loisy, The Birth of
Christian Religion and the Origins of the New Testament (New York 1962); M. Goguel,
The Primitive Church (New York-London 1964); O. Cullmann, The Early Church (Lon
don 1956); P. Carrington, The Early Christian Church, 2 vols. (Cambridge 1957); E. Ehr
hardt, “Christianity before the Apostles’ Creed” in HThR 55 (1962) 73-119; O. Cullmann,
Early Christian Worship (London 1953); W. D. Davies, Christian Origins and Judaism
(Philadelphia 1962).
461
S EC T I O N TWO
The Way into the Pagan World
4. The Religious Situation in the Graeco-Roman World at the Time of its

Encounter with Christianity
S ources
A. Fairbanks, A Handbook of Greek Religion (New York 1910); M. Nilsson, Greek Folk
Religion (New York 1961); K. Latte, Die Religion der Romer und der Synkretismus der
Kaiserzeit (Tubingen 1927); H. Kleinknecht, Pantheion (Tubingen 1929); N. Turchi,
Fontes mysteriorum aevi hellenistici (Rome, 4th ed. 1930); A. D. Nock and A.-J.
Festugiere, Corpus Hermeticum, 4 vols. (Paris 1945-54); F. C. Grant, Hellenistic Religions,
2 vols. (New York 1953-4); idem, Ancient Roman Religion (New York 1957); H.Haas
and J.Leipoldt, Die Religionen in der Umwelt des Christentums: Bilderatlas zur Religions-
geschichte (Leipzig 1926-30).
L i t e r a t u r e : 1. H i s t o r y of C lassical C i v i li za ti on
See the histories of New Testament times already mentioned in addition to the following:
P. Wendland, Die hellenistisch-rdmische Kultur in ihren Beziehungen zum Judentum und
Christentum (Tubingen, 3rd ed. 1912); L. Friedlaender, Roman Life and Manners under
the Early Empire, 4 vols. (London 1928-36); W. R. Halliday, The Pagan Background of
Early Christianity (Liverpool 1926); R. Heinze, Die augusteische Kultur (Leipzig 1930,
new imp. Darmstadt 1960); W. Kroll, Die Kultur der ciceronianischen Zeit, 2 vols. (Leip
zig 1933); A.-J. Festugiere and P. Fabre, Le monde greco-romain au temps de Notre-
Seigneur, 2 vols. (Paris 1935); J. Carcopino, Daily Life in Ancient Rome (New Haven
1945); W. W. Tarn, Hellenistic Civilization (London, 3rd ed. 1952); M. Rostovtzeff, The
Social and Economic History of the Hellenistic World, 2 vols. (Oxford 1941); U. Kahr-
stedt, Kulturgeschichte der romischen Kaiserzeit (Berne, 2nd ed. 1958); U. Paoli, Rome:
its People, Life and Customs . . . (London 1963); A. A. M. van der Heyden and H. E. Stier,
Bildatlas der klassischen Welt (Giitersloh 1960).
2. R e l i g i o n in C l a s s i c a l T i mes
A. D. Nock, Conversion. The Old and New in Religion from Alexander the Great to
Augustinus of Hippo (Oxford 1933); K. Priimm, Der christliche Glaube und die altheid-
nische Welt, 2 vols. (Leipzig 1935); K. Ker^nyi, Die Religion der Griechen und Romer
(Munich 1963); R. Bultmann, Die Religionen im Umkreis des Christentums (Zurich, 2nd
ed. 1954).
(a) Greek religion.

E. Rohde, Psyche: The Cult of Souls and Belief in Immortality among the Greeks (New
York 1925); O. Kern, Die Religion der Griechen, 3 vols. (Berlin, 1926-38); W. Nestle,
Griechische Religiositdt, III (Berlin 1934); M. Nilsson, A History of Greek Religion
(Oxford 1949); W. Guthrie, The Greeks and their Gods (Boston-London 1950);
K. Priimm, “Die Religion des Hellenismus” in Konig H II (Freiburg i. Br., 2nd ed. 1961),
169-244; J. Harrison, Prolegomena to the Study of Greek Religion (New York 1957);
J. Festugiere, Personal Religion Among the Greeks (Berkeley 1960); U. von Wilamowitz-
Moellendorff, Der Glaube der Hellenen, 2 vols. (Darmstadt, 3rd ed. 1960).
462
BIBLIOGRAPHY
(b) Roman religion.

J. Geffcken, Der Ausgang des griechisch-rdmischen Heidentums (Heidelberg, 2nd ed.
1929); F. Altheim, Romische Religionsgeschichte, III: Die Kaiserzeit (Berlin 1933);
F. Cumont, The Oriental Religions in Roman Paganism (New York 1956); idem, Lux
Perpetua (Paris 1949); F.Grant (ed.), Ancient Roman Religion (New York 1957); H.Rose,
Ancient Roman Religion (New York 1957); C. Koch, Religio, Studien zu Kult und Glau-
ben der Romcr (Nuremberg 1960); T. Glover, Conflict of Religions in the Early Roman
Empire (Boston 1960); K. Latte, Die Religion der Romer (Munich 1960); M. Vermaseren,
Mithra, ce dieu mysterieux (Paris 1960).
(c) The Emperor Cult.

G. Herzog-Hauser, Pauly-Wissowa, Suppl. IV 806-853. E. Lohmeyer, Christuskult und
Kaiserkult (Tubingen 1919); S. Losch, Deltas Jesu und antike Apotheose (Rottenburg
1933); E. Stauffer, Rom und die Cdsaren (Hamburg 1952); L. Cerfaux and J. Tondriau,
Un concurrent du Christianisme. Le culte des souverains romains (Toumai 1957); E. Nor-
den, Die Geburt des Kindes (Darmstadt, 3rd ed. 1958); R. Etienne, Le culte imperial dans
la peninsule iberique dyAuguste a Diocletien (Paris 1959); F. Taeger, Charisma, 2 vols.
(Stuttgart 1960); H. Schlier, Die Zeit der Kirche (Freiburg i. Br., 3rd ed. 1962), 14 ff.;
M. Nelsson, “The High God and the Mediator” in HThR 55 (1963), 101-20; B. Parsi,
Designation et investiture de I’empereur romain. Ier et lie siecles apres J.-C. (Paris 1963).
(d) Mystery religions.
F. Cumont, The Mysteries of Mithra (New York 1957); R. Reizenstein, Die hellenistischen
Mysterienreligionen (Leipzig, 3rd ed. 1927); H. Gressmann, Die orientalischen Religionen
im hellenistischen Zeitalter (Berlin 1930); F. Saxl, Mithra (Berlin 1931); B. Heigl, Antike
Mysterienreligionen und das Christentum (Munster 1932); S.Eitrem, Orakel und Mysterien
am Ausgang der Antike (Zurich 1947); N. Turchi, Le religioni misteriche del mondo
antico (Milan 1948); V. Magnien, Les mysteres d’Eleusis (Paris 1950); H. Idris, Cults and
Creeds in Graeco-Roman Egypt (Liverpool 1953); E. Wallis, Osiris: The Egyptian Religion
of Resurrection (New York 1961); A. Schiitze, Mithras-Mysterien und das Urchristentum
(Stuttgart 1948); G. Mylonas, Eleusis and the Eleunisian Mysteries (Princeton 1961);
B. Metygee, “Considerations of Methodology in the Study of the Mystery Religions and
Early Christianity” in HThR 48 (1955), 1-20; Corpus inscriptionum et monumentorum
religionis Mithriacae, I-II (Hagae Comitis 1956-60); M. Vermaseren, Mithra, ce dieu
mysterieux (Paris 1960); A. Alvarez de Miranda, Religiones mistericas (Madrid 1961);
R. Merkelbach, lsisfeste in griechisch-romischer Zeit (Meisenheim 1963); H. Hepding,
Attis, seine Mythen und sein Kult (Berlin, 2nd ed. 1964).
(e) Popular religion.

K. Preisendanz, Papyri graecae magicae (Leipzig 1928); F. R. Herzog, Die Wunder-
heilungen von Epidaurus (Leipzig 1931); F. Boll, Sternglaube und Sterndeutung (Leipzig,
4th ed. 1931); E. Massonneau, La magie dans I’Antiquite romaine (Paris 1934); E. Stemp-
linger, Antiker Volksglaube (Stuttgart 1948); R. Ehnmark, “Religion and Magic” in
Ethnos 21 (1956), Iff.; W. Gundel, “Astrologie” in RAC I, 817-31. For a survey of
literature on Roman Religion see H.Rose, “Roman Religion 1910-1960” in JRS 50
(1960), 161-72.
(f) Philosophy in late Classical times.

P. E. More, Hellenistic Philosophies (Princeton 1923); K. Praechter, Das Altertum in
Ueberweg-Heinze, Geschichte der Philosophic, I (Berlin, 12th ed. 1926); L. Robin, Greek
Thought and the Origins of the Scientific Spirit (New York 1928); E. Zeller, GrundrifI der
Geschichte der Philosophic der Griechen (Leipzig, 13th ed. 1928); K. Reinhardt,
Poseidonios (Munich 1921); E. Br&iier, Histoire de la philosophic, II (Paris 1948);
4 63
BIBLIOGRAPHY
A.-J. Festugiere, Epicurus and his Gods (Oxford 1955); M. Pohlenz, Die Stoa, 2 vols.
(Gottingen 1948-9); M. Spanneut, Le sto'icisme des peres de I’eglise de Clement de Rome
a Clement d‘Alexandrie (Paris 1957); R. Harder, Plotin (Frankfurt 1958).
5. The Apostle Paul and the Structure of the Pauline Congregations

S ources
The sources are the letters of Paul and the Acts of the Apostles. See also the apocryphal
Acts of Paul, L. Vouaux, Les actes de Paul et ses lettres apocryphes (Paris 1913); R. A.
Lipsius, Acta apostolorum apocrypha, I (Darmstadt, new imp. 1959); C. Schmidt, npAêi?
IlauXoo.ylcftf Pauli (Hamburg 1936); R. Kasser, “Acta Pauli” in RHPhR 40 (1960), 45-7.
Literature
Commentaries on the Acts of the Apostles, cf. above; commentaries on the letters of Paul
cf. A. Wikenhauser, N ew Testament Introduction (Freiburg-London-New York 1958).
For an extensive survey of Pauline literature see: B. Metzger ed., Index to Periodical
Literature on the Apostle Paul (Grand Rapids 1960); A. Schweitzer, Paul and his Inter
preters: A Critical History (Oxford 1948); E. Ellis, Paul and his Recent Interpreters
(Grand Rapids 1961).
G eneral A ccounts of Paul’s Life: A. Deissmann, Paul. A Study in Social and Religious
History (New York, new imp. 1963); A. O. Nock, St Paul (London 1960); J. S. Stewart,
A Man in Christ (New York 1944); E.-B. Alio, Paul, apotre de Jesus-Christ (Paris, 2nd
ed. 1956); W. von Loewenich, Paul: His Life and Work (Edinburgh 1960); M. Dibelius,
Paul, edited and completed by W. G. Kiimmel (London 1953); J. Klausner, From Jesus
to Paul (Boston 1961); C. Tresmontant, St Paul and the Mystery of Christ (New York
1957); S. Sandmel, The Genius of Paul (New York 1958).
Biography of P aul : H. Bohlig, Die Geisteskultur von Tarsos (Gottingen 1913); A. Stein-
mann, Der Werdegang des Paulus (Freiburg i. Br. 1928); O. Kietzig, Die Bekehrung des
Paulus (Leipzig 1932); E. Kirschbaum, “Das Grab des Volkerapostels” in Die Gr'dber der
Apostelfiirsten (Frankfurt a. M., 2nd ed. 1959), 166-97; U. Wilckens, “Die Bekehrung des
Paulus als religionsgeschichtliches Problem” in ZThK 56 (1959), 273-93; J. Dauvillier,
“A propos de la venue de S. Paul k Rome” in BLE 61 (1960), 3-26.
P aul’s M issionary A ctivity: W. M. Ramsay, St Paul the Traveller and the Roman
Citizen (London, 7th ed. 1907); A. Oepke, Die Missionspredigt des Apostels Paulus
(Leipzig 1920); J. Richter, Die Briefe des Apostels Paulus als missionarische Sendschreiben
(Giitersloh 1929); K. Pieper, Paulus, seine missionarische Personlichkeit und Wirksamkeit
(Munster, 3rd ed. 1929); W. L. Knox, St Paul and the Church of the Gentiles (Cambridge
1939); M. Dibelius, Paulus auf dem Areopag (Heidelberg 1939); R. Liechtenhan, Die ur-
christliche Mission (Zurich 1946); H. Metzger, Saint Paul's Journeys in the Greek Orient
(New York 1955); C. Maurer, “Paulus als der Apostel der Volker” in EvTh 19 (1959),
28-40; J. Cambier, “Paul, apotre du Christ et pr^dicateur de l’^vangile” in NRTh 81
(1959), 1009-28; M. Meinertz, “Zum Ursprung der Heidenmission” in Biblica 40 (1959),
762-77.; E. Lerle, Proselytenwerbung und Urchristentum (Berlin 1961); F. Maier, Paulus
als Kirchengriinder und kirchlicher Organisator (Wurzburg 1961); V. N. Sevenster, Paul
and Seneca (Leiden 1961).
T heology and P iety: B. Bartmann, Paulus. Die Grundziige seiner Lehre (Paderborn
1914); W. Mundle, Das religiose Leben des Apostels Paulus (Leipzig 1923); J. Schneider,
464
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Die Passionsmystik des Apostels Paulus (Leipzig 1929); H. Windisch, Paulus und Christus
(Leipzig 1934); W. Schmauch, In Christus. Eine Untersuchung zur Sprache und Theologie
des Paulus (Giitersloh 1935); J. Leipoldt, Jesus und Paulus—Jesus oder Paulus (Leipzig
1936); G. Harder, Paulus und das Gebet (Giitersloh 1936); A. Roder, Die Geschichts-
theologie des Apostels Paulus (Speyer 1938); J. Bonsirven, Exegese rabbinique et exegese
paulinienne (Paris 1939); F. Amiot, Venseignement de S. Paul (Paris, 2 vols. 1946);
F. Prat, The Theology of St Paul, 2 vols. (Westminster, Md. 1952); J. Dupont, Gnosis.
La connaissance religieuse dans les epitres de S.Paul (Louvain 1949); R. Schnackenburg,
Baptism in the Thought of St Paul (London-New York 1964); G. Bornkamm, Das Ende
des Gesetzes. Paulusstudien (Munich 1952); A. Schweitzer, The Mysticism of Paul the
Apostle (New York 1955); A. Wikenhauser, Pauline Mysticism. Christ in the Mystical
Teaching of St Paul (Freiburg-London-New York 1960); E. Lohmeyer, Probleme pauli-
nischer Theologie (Tubingen 1954); W. D. Davies, Paul and Rabbinic Judaism (London,
2nd ed. 1955); P. Demann, “Moi'se et la Loi dans la pens£e de S. Paul” in Moise, Vhomme
de Valliance (Paris 1955); K. H. Schelkle, Paulus, Lehrer der Vdter (Rom 1-11) (Diissel-
dorf 1956); L. Cerfaux, Christ in the Theology of St Paul (Freiburg-London-New York
1959); J. Munck, Paul and the Salvation of Mankind (London 1959); O. Kuss, Enthusias
m s und Realismus bei Paulus” in Festschrift Th. Kampmann (Paderborn 1959) 23-27;
D. Whiteley, The Theology of St Paul (Oxford 1964); C. K. Barret, From First Adam to
Last. A Study in Pauline Theology (London 1962); L. Cerfaux, Le chretien dans la theo
logie paulinienne (Paris 1962); J. Dupont, Le discours de Milet. Testament spirituel de Paul
(Paris 1962); O. Kuss, “Die Rolle des Apostels Paulus in der theologischen Entwicklung
der Urkirche” in MThZ 14 (1963), 1-59, 109-87.
T he P auline C ongregations: B. Weiss, Paulus und seine Gemeinden (Berlin 1914); W. L.

Knox, St Paul and the Church of Jerusalem (London 1925); B. Bartmann, Paulus als Seel-
sorger (Paderborn 1921); K.Holl, “Der Kirchenbegriff des Paulus” in Ges. Aufsatze, II
(Tubingen 1928), 44-67; J. Wagemann, Die Stellung des Paulus neben den Zwolf (Giessen
1926); W. Koster, Die Idee der Kirche beim hi. Paulus (Freiburg i. Br. 1929); K. Pieper,
Paulus und die Kirche (Paderborn 1932); A. Wikenhauser, Die Kirche als der mystische Leib
Christi nach dem Apostel Paulus (Munster, 2nd ed. 1940); L. Cerfaux, The Church in the
Theology of St Paul (Freiburg-New York-London 1959); H. Greeven, “Propheten, Leh
rer, Vorsteher bei Paulus” in ZNW 44 (1952), 1-53; J. Colson, Les fonctions ecclesiales aux
deux premiers siecles (Paris 1956); K. H. Schelkle, “Romische Kirche im Romerbrief” in
ZKTh 81 (1959) 393-404; R. Schnackenburg, The Church in the New Testament (Freiburg
- London-NewYork-Montreal 1965); E. Schweizer, Church Order in the New Testament
(London-Naperville, 111. 1961); M. Guerra y G6mez, Diaconos helenicos y btblicos (Bur
gos 1962); G. Dix, Jew and Greek (London, 2nd ed. 1955).
Special Studies: E. von Dobschiitz, Der Apostel Paulus. Seine Stellung in der Kunst
(Halle 1937); W. Straub, Die Bildersprache des Apostels Paulus (Tubingen 1937); E. Aleith,
Das Paulusverstandnis der alten Kirche (Berlin 1937).
6. Peter's Missionary Activity and his Sojourn and Death in Rome

E xtra-P auline C hristianity: F. X. Polzl, Die Mitarbeiter des Weltapostels Paulus
(Regensburg 1911); A.Ruegg, Die Mission in der alten Kirche, ihre Wege und Erfolge
(Basle 1912); K. Pieper, “Etappen und Eigenart der altchristlichen Mission” in RQ 34
(1926), 111-27; F. J. Foakes-Jackson, The Rise of Gentile Christianity (London 1927);
R. Liechtenhan, Die urchristliche Mission (Zurich 1946); R. A. Lipsius, Acta apostolorum
apocrypha, I (Leipzig 1891, new imp. Darmstadt 1959); J. Hervieux, The New Testament
Apocrypha (New York 1960); Hennecke-Schneemelcher, II (Tubingen 1964); R. Soder,
465
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Die apokryphen Apostelgeschichten und die romanhafte Literatur der Antike (Stuttgart
1932); P. M. Peterson, Andrew, Brother of Simon Peter, his History and his Legend
(Leiden 1958).
M ission of the A postle P eter. Sources: the Acts of the Apostles and the two letters of
Peter. Commentaries on the letters of Peter: J. W. C. Wand, 1 and II Peter (London 1934);
F. W. Beare, The First Epistle of Peter (London 1958); C. Cranfield, The First Epistle of
Peter (London 1958); idem, I and II Peter and Jude (London 1960); K. H. Schelkle, Die
Petrusbriefe. Der Judasbrief (Freiburg i.Br. 1961), with extensive bibliography on pp.
xi-xvi.
On the apocryphal Acts of Peter: L. Vouaux, Les actes de Pierre (Paris 1922), and
C. Schmidt in 2K G 43 (1924), 321-438; 45 (1926), 481-513. See also G. Stuhlfauth, Die
apokryphe Petrusgeschichte in der altchristlichen Kunst (Berlin 1925); E. Dinkier, Die
ersten Petrusdarstellungen (Marburg 1937); C. Cecchelli, Iconografia dei papi, I: S. Pietro
(Rome 1938).
F. J. Foakes-Jackson, Peter Prince of Apostles (New York 1927); E. T. Robertson, Epochs
in the Life of Simon Peter (New York 1933). R. Aigrain, St Pierre (Paris 1939); O. Cull-
mann, Peter: Disciple, Apostle, Martyr (Philadelphia, 2nd ed. 1962), on which see also
P. Gaechter in ZKTh 75 (1953), 331-7; J. Schmitt in RevSR 28 (1954), 58-71; A. Vogtle
in MThZ 5 (1954), 1-47; O. Karrer, Peter and the Church. An Examination of Cullmann’s
Thesis (Freiburg-London-New York-Montreal 1963); P. Gaechter, Petrus und seine
Zeit (Innsbrudk 1958); J. Perez de Urbel, San Pedro, pnncipe de los apostoles (Burgos
1959).
Sojourn and D eath in R ome: For the older literature down to 1934 see U. Holzmeister,
Commentarium in epitulas ss. Petri et Judae I (Paris 1937), 37-40; H. Lietzmann, Petrus
und Paulus in Rom (Berlin, 2nd ed. 1927); H. Dannenbauer, “Die romische Petruslegende”
in HZ 146 (1932), 239-62; 159 (1939), 81-88; H.Lietzmann, Petrus, romischer Mdrtyrer
(Berlin 1936); J. Haller, Das Papsttum, I (Stuttgart 1950), 475-85; K. Heussi, Die romische
Petrustradition in kritischer Sicht (Tubingen 1955); K. Aland, “Der Tod des Petrus in
Rom”, Kirchengeschichtliche Entwiirfe (Giitersloh 1960), 35 104.
T he tomb of P eter : On the problem of the apostles’ tombs in S. Sebastiano, see P. Styger,
Romische Martyrergriifte (Berlin 1935); A. Prandi, La memoria apostolorum in cata-
cumbas (Rome 1936); C. Mohlberg, “Historisch-kritische Bemerkungen zum Ursprung der
sogenannten memoria apostolorum an der Appischen Strafie” in Colligere Fragmenta, Fest
schrift A .D old (Beuron 1952), 52-74; F. Tolotti, Memorie degli apostoli in Catacumbas
(Vatican City 1953); P. Testini, “Le presunte reliquie dell’apostolo Pietro e la traslazione
‘ad catacumbas’” in Actes du V® congres international d’archeologie chretienne (Vatican
City 1957), 529-38; J. Ruysschaert, “Les documents litt£raires de la double tradition
romaine des tombes apostoliques” in RHE 52 (1957), 791-831.
The excavations under the Basilica of St Peter. The official report on the excavations is
Esplorazioni sotto la confessione di Pietro in Vaticano eseguite negli anni 1940-1949, 2 vols.
(Vatican City 1951). Further discoveries in M. Guarducci, I graffiti sotto la confessione
di S. Pietro in Vaticano, 3 vols. (Rome 1958); idem, The Tomb of St Peter: The New
Discoveries in the Secret Grottos of the Vatican (New York 1960). Literature which has
appeared since the official report is listed in Biblica 34 (1953) 96*f.; and see especially
J. Ruysschaert, “Recherches et Etudes autour de la Confession de la basilique Vaticane
(1940-58). Etat de la question et bibliographic” in Triplice omaggio a S.S.PioX II, vol. 2
(Vatican City 1958), 3-47, and E. Dinkier, “Die Petrus-Rom-Frage, ein Forschungsbericht”
in ThR 25 (1959), 189-230, 289-335; 27 (1961), 33-64, whose standpoint is more critical.
Worthy of special mention are: A. M. Schneider, “Das Petrusgrab am Vatikan” in ThLZ
4 66
BIBLIOGRAPHY
77 (1952), 321-6; E. Schafer, “Das Apostelgrab unter St. Peter in Rom” in EvTh 12 (1953),
304-20; J. Carcopino, “Les fouilles de S. Pierre” in Etudes d’histoire chretienne (Paris,
2nd ed. 1963), 93-286. R. O’Callaghan, “Vatican Excavations and the Tomb of Peter” in
BA 16 (1953), 70-87; J. Ruysschaert, “Reflexions sur les fouilles Vaticanes,le rapport officiel
et la critique” in RHE 48 (1953), 573-631, 49 (1954), 5-58; A. von Gerkan, “Kritische
Studien zu den Ausgrabungen unter der Peterskirche in Rom” in Trierische Zeitschrift 22
(1954), 26-55; J. Fink, “Archaologie des Petrusgrabes” in ThRv 50 (1954), 81-102; C.
Mohrmann, “A propos de deux mots controversy . . . tropeum-nomen” in VigChr 8
(1954), 154-73; J. Toynbee and J. Ward Perkins, The Shrine of St Peter and the Vatican
Excavations (London 1956); E. Smothers, “The Excavations under St Peter’s” in ThSt 17
(1956) , 293-321; T. Klausner, Die romische Petrustradition im Lichte der neuen Aus
grabungen unter der Peterskirche (Cologne-Opladen 1956), on which see also E. Kirsch-
baum in RQ 51 (1956), 247-54; H. Chadwick, “St Peter and St Paul in Rome” in JThS 8
(1957) , 31-52; E. Kirschbaum, The Roman Catacombs and Their Martyrs (Milwaukee
1950); A. von Gerkan, “Basso et Tusco consulibus” in Bonner Jahrbuch 158 (1958) 89-105;
idem, “Zu den Problemen des Petrusgrabes” in JbAC 1 (1959), 79-93; H.-D. Altendorf,
“Die romischen Apostelgraber” in ThLZ 84 (1959), 731-40; R. Ruysschaert, “Trois cam-
pagnes de fouilles au Vatican et la tombe de Pierre” in Sacra Pagina II (Paris 1939), 88-97;
D. O’Conner, Peter in Rome (diss. Columbia University 1960; A. von Gerkan in JbAC 5
(1962), 23-32, 39—42; also T. Klauser, ibid. 33-38; R. Eggers, “Zu den neuesten Graffiti
des Coemeteriums in Vaticano” in RQ 57 (1962), 74-77; E. Kirschbaum, The Tombs of
St Peter and St Paul (London 1959); J. Carcopino, “Les fouilles de S. Pierre” in Etudes
d ’histoire chretienne (Paris 1963), 93-286.
7. The Christianity of the Johannine Writings
C ommentaries
General accounts in A. Wikenhauser, New Testament Indroduction (Freiburg-London-
New York 1958); P.-H. Menoud, “Les Etudes johanniques de Bultmann h Barrett” in
L’evangile de Jean (Paris 1958), 11—40.
J ohn ’s G ospel: C. K. Barret, The Gospel according to St John. A Commentary on the

Greek Text (London 1957); C. H. Dodd, Interpretation of the Fourth Gospel (Cambridge
1953); B. F. Westcott, The Gospel according to St John (London 1958); R. Bultmann, Das
Evangelium des Johannes (Gottingen, 4th ed. 1953; supplement 1957); M.-J. Lagrange,
L’evangile de Saint Jean (Paris, 6th ed. 1936).
R evelation: E.-B. Alio, St Jean, L’Apocalypse (Paris, 3rd ed. 1933); J. Bonsirven,
VApocalypse de S. Jean (Paris 1951); E. Lohmeyer, Die Offenbarung des Johannes
(Tubingen 2nd ed. 1933); R. A. Charles, Revelation, 2 vols. (Edinburgh 1920).
Letters of J ohn : C. A. Dodd, Johannine Epistles (London 1946); R. Schnackenburg, Die

Johannesbriefe (Freiburg i.Br. 1963).
R esearch
A. C. Headlam, The Fourth Gospel as History (Oxford 1948); C. Dodd, The Interpretation
of the Fourth Gospel (Cambridge 1955); D. Lamont, Studies in the Johannine Writings
(London 1956); F. L. Cross, Studies in the Fourth Gospel (London 1957); G. Quispel,
“L’evangile de Jean et la gnose” in L’evangile de Jean (Paris 1958), 197-208;
467
BIBLIOGRAPHY
R. Schnackenburg, “Logos-Hymnus und johanneischer Prolog" in BZ 1 (1957), 69-109;

idem, "Die Sakramente im Johannesevangelium” in Sacra Pagina II (Paris 1959),
235-54; W. C. van Unnik, “The Purpose of St John’s Gospel” in Studia Evangelica
(Berlin 1959), 382-411; E.Schweizer, “Der Kirchenbegriff im Evangelium und den Briefen
des Johannes”, ibid. 363-81; E. Haenchen, “Johanneische Probleme” in ZThK 56 (1959)
19-54; E. M. Sidebottom, The Christ of the Fourth Gospel in the Light of First-Century
Thought (London 1961); J.N . Sanders, The Fourth Gospel in the Early Church
(Cambridge 1943); F.-M. Braun, Jean le theologien et son evangile dans I’eglise ancienne
(Paris 1959); H. M. F^ret, Die Geheime Offenbarung des hi. Johannes, eine christliche
Schau der Geschichte (Diisseldorf 1955); S. Giet, Vapocalypse et I’histoire (Paris 1957);
P. K. Smith, “The Apocalypse of St John and the Early Church” in JBL 25 (1957),
187-95; A. Feuillet, Uapocalypse: etat de question (Bruges 1963); J.Bonsirven, Le temoin
du Verbe, le disciple bien-aime (Toulouse 1956); K. L. Carroll, “The Fourth Gospel and the
Exclusion of Christians from the Synagogue” in BJRL 40 (1957), 334-49; E. Kasemann,
“Die Johannesjiinger in Ephesus” in ZThK 49 (1952), 144-54; R. Schnackenburg, “Das
vierte Evangelium und die Johannesjiinger” in HJ 77 (1958), 21-38; G. MacGregor and
A. Morton, The Structure of the Fourth Gospel (Edinburgh 1961); S. Temple, “A Key to the
Composition of the Fourth Gospel” in JBL 30 (1961), 220-32; T. Holtz, Die Christologie
der Apokalypse des Johannes (Berlin 1962); C. Dodd, Historical Tradition in the Fourth
Gospel (Cambridge 1963); L. Bouyer, The Fourth Gospel (Westminster, Md. 1964);
J. Sanders, “Saint John on Patmos” in NTS 9 (1963), 75-85; M. E. Boismard, “La tradition
joannique concernant le baptiste” in RB 70 (1963), 5-42; P. Lamarche, “Le prologue de
Jean” in RSR 52 (1964), 497-538.
S E C T IO N T H R E E
The Post-Apostolic Age
G eneral Literature
R. Knopf, Das nachapostolische Zeitalter (Tubingen 1905); P. Batiffol, Primitive Cathol
icism (New York-London 1911); W. Bauer, Rechtglaubigkeit und Ketzerei im altesten
Christentum (Tubingen 1934); G. Bardy, La theologie de I’eglise de S. Clement de Rome
a S.Irenee (Paris 1945); M. Simon, Verus Israel (Paris 1948); K. Hormann, Leben in
Christus. Zusammenhange zwischen Dogma und Sitte bei den apostolischen Vdtern (Vienna
1952); L. Goppelt, Christentum und Judentum im 1. und 2. Jahrhundert (Giitersloh 1954);
P. Carrington, The Early Christian Church, 2 vols. (Cambridge 1957); J. Dani^lou, La
theologie du judeo-christianisme (Paris 1958), Eng. tr. The Theology of Jewish Chris
tianity (London 1964); L. Goppelt, “Die apostolische und nachapostolische Zeit” in Die
Kirche in ihrer Geschichte, ed. K. D. Schmidt and E. Wolf, vol. I, part A (Gottingen 1962).
8. The Conflict between Christianity and the Roman State Power

S ources
The writers of the first and second centuries, especially the early apologists; editions:
J. C. T. de Otto, Corpus Apologetarum, I-IX (Jena, 3rd ed. 1876-81); E. J. Goodspeed,
Die altesten Apologeten (Gottingen 1914; omitting Theophilus).
468
BIBLIOGRAPHY
A cts op the M artyrs: general survey in Altaner 246-52; G. Lazzati, Gli sviluppi della
letteratura sui martiri nei primi quattro secoli (Turin 1956); M. Simonetti, “Qualche
osservationi a proposito dell’origine degli atti dei martiri” in RevEAug 2 (1956), 39-57;
for current bibliography, the reader is referred to Archivum Historiae Pontificae, vol. I
(Rome 1963).
T ex t s
Principal editions: Acta Sanctorum ed. J. Bolland et socii (from 1643, with supplementary
matter in the Analecta Bollandiana from 1882) (Brussels); also, T. Ruinart, Acta primorum
martyrum (1689, new imp. Regensburg 1859), with supplementary vol. by E. Blant, Les
actes des martyrs (Paris 1882); R. Knopf arid G. Kruger, Ausgewdhlte Martyrerakten
(Tubingen, 3rd ed. 1929).
Translations: G.Rauschen, BKV 14 (Kempten 1913); O.Braun, BKV 22 (1915); L.Homo,
Les empereurs romains et le christianisme (Paris 1931); H. Rahner (Freiburg i. Br. 1941);
A. Hamman, La geste du sang (Paris 1953); O. Hagemeyer, Ich bin Christ. Fruhchristliche
Martyrerakten (Diisseldorf 1961).
L iterature
G eneral: P. Allard, Histoire des persecutions (Paris, 3rded. 1903-8); P. Allard, Dix leqons
sur le martyre (Paris, 8th ed. 1930); Z. Zeiler, Uempire romain et I’eglise (Paris 1928);
A. Ehrhard, Die Kirche der Martyrer (Munich 1932); P. Brezzi, Christianesimo e impero
Romano (Rome, 2nd ed. 1944); H. Gr£goire, Les persecutions dans Vempire romain
(Brussels, 2nd ed. 1963), on which see E. Griffe in BLE 53 (1952), 129-60; E. Stauffer,
Christ and the Caesars (London); G. Ricciotti, The Age of Martyrs (Milwaukee 1959);
J. Moreau, La persecution du christianisme dans Vempire romain (Paris 1956); H. Leclercq,
“Persecutions” in DACL XIV (1939), 523-94; J. Vogt, “Christenverfolgungen” in RAC II
(1954), 1159-208; L. Dieu, “La persecution au II* siecle. Une loi fantome” in RHE 38
(1942), 5-19.
T he T rial of C hristians: H.Last, “The Study of the Persecutions” in JRS 27 (1937),

80-92; E. Griffe, “Le christianisme en face de l’etat romain” in BLE 50 (1949), 129-45;
A. N. Sherwin-White, “The Early Persecutions and Roman Law again” in JThS NS 3
(1952), 199-213; J. W. P. Borleffs, “Institutum Neronianum” in VigChr 6 (1952), 129-45;
E. Griffe, “Les actes du martyr Apollonius et le probleme de la base juridique des per
secutions” in BLE 53 (1952), 65-76; V. Monachino, “II fondamento giuridico delle per-
secuzioni nei primi due secoli” in SC 81 (1953), 3-32; A. Ehrhardt, “Das corpus Christia-
norum und die Korporationen im spatromischen Recht” in ZSavRGrom 70 (1953), 299 to
347; 71 (1954), 25-40; H.Last, "Christenverfolgungen” (legal aspect) in RAC II (1954),
1208-28; C. Cecchelli, “II nome e la ‘setta’ dei cristiani” in RivAC 31 (1955), 55-73;
P. deMouxy, “Nomen Christianorum” in A tti AccadScienze Torino 91 (1956-7), 204-36;
A. Wlosok, “Die Rechtsgrundlagen der Christenverfolgungen der ersten zwei Jahr-
hunderte” in Gymnasium 66 (1959), 14-32; C. Saumagne, “Tertullien et lTnstitutum
Neronianum” in ThZ 17 (1961), 334-57.
T he P ersecution of N ero : H. Fuchs in VigChr 4 (1950), 65-93; H. Hommel, Theologia

Viatorum 3 (1951), 1-30; E. Griffe in BLE 53 (1952), 158-60; B.Doer, Das Altertum 2
(1956), 15-28; K. Buchner, Humanitas Romana (Heidelberg 1957), 229-39; C. Saumagne,
“Les incendiaires de Rome et les lois p&iales des Romains” in RH 227 (1962), 337-60;
J. Beaujeu, Latomus (Brussels), 19 (1960), 65-80, 291-311; L. Herrmann, Latomus 20
46 9
BIBLIOGRAPHY
(1961), 817-20; H. Capocci, “Per il testo di Tacito, Annales 15, 44” in Studia et Docu-
menta hist, et juris 28 (1962), 65-99; G. Roux, Neron (Paris 1962); E. Griffe in BLE 65
(1964), 1-16.
D omitian : M.Dibelius, "Rom und die Christen im 1. Jahrhundert” in SAH 1941-2, part 2;
M. Sordi in RSTI 14 (1960), 1-26; L. W. Bernard in NTSt 10 (1964), 251-60.
T rajan and H adrian : W. Weber, Festgabe K. Miiller (Tubingen 1922), 24-45; A. Kurfess
in ZN W 36 (1937), 295-8 and Mnemosyne 7 (1939), 237-40; L. Dieu in RHE 38 (1942),
5-19; T. Mayer-Maly, Studia et Documenta Hist. Juris (R), 22 (1956), 311-28; W. Schmid
in Maja 7 (1955), 5-13; M. Sordi in RSTI 14 (1960), 344-70; L. Vidman, Etude sur la
correspondance de Pline le Jeune avec Trajan (Praha 1960), 87-106.
V arious: G. Lopuszanzki, “La police romaine et les chr£tiens” in Antiquite classique 20

(1951), 5-46; J. Zeiller, “Nouvelles observations sur* l’origine des persecutions contre les
chr£tiens aux deux premiers siecles” in RHE 46 (1951), 521-33; S. Giet, “Le t£moignage de
Clement de Rome sur la cause des persecutions romaines” in RevSR 29 (1955), 333-45; V.
Grumel, “Du nombre des persecutions paiennes dans les anciens chroniques” in RevEAug
2 (1956), 59-66; W. H. Frend, “Some Links between Judaism and the Early Church” in
JEH 9 (1958), 141-58; H. Meerhing, “Persecution of the Jews and Adherents of the Isis
Cult at Rome a .d . 19” in N ovT 3 (1959), 293-304; A. Fuks, “Aspects of the Jewish Revolt
in a .d . 115-17” in JRS 51 (1961), 98-104; P. Brown, “Aspects of the Christianization of
the Roman Aristocracy” in JRS 51 (1961), 1-11.
9. The Religious World of the Rost-Apostolic Age as Mirrored in its

Writings
S ources
The writings of the Apostolic Fathers. For the term, see J. A. Fischer in his edition
(Munich 1956), IX -X II and G. Jouassard in MSR 14 (1957), 129-34. Collected editions:
K. Bihlmeyer, Die apostolischen V'dter (Tubingen 1924, new imp. 1957); J. A. Fischer,
First Epistle of Clement, Letters of Ignatius, Letter of Polycarp (Munich and Darmstadt
1956). Other editions by K. Lake (London and New York 1930); S. Colombo (Turin
1930); D. Ruiz Bueno (Madrid 1950).
Translations: F. Zeller in BKV 35 (Munich 1918); by W. Bauer, M.Dibelius, R. Knopf,
H. Windisch (with conmmentary), Erganzungsband zum Handbuch zum N.T.; by J. A.
Kleist (English, with commentary) in ACW 1 and 6 (Westminster, Md. and London
1946-8). On the language of the Apostolic Fathers: G. J. M. Bartelink, Lexicologisch-
semantische Studi'e over de Taal van de Apostolische Vaders (Nijmegen 1952); H. Kraft,
Clavis Patrum Apostolicorum (Darmstadt 1963).
L iterature
General accounts in the textbooks of patrology by Quasten P I 29-157; Altaner 47-113.
G eneral I ntroductions: A. Casamassa, I padri apostolici (Rome 1938); J. Lawson,
A Theological and Historical Introduction to the Apostolic Fathers (New York 1961);
K. Aland, “The Problem of Anonymity and Pseudoanonymity in Christian Literature of
the First Two Centuries” in jThS NS 12 (1961) 39-49.
Special Studies: H. Schumacher, Kraft der Urkirche (Freiburg i. Br. 1934); A. Heitmann,
Imitatio Dei (Rome 1940); I. Giordani, The Social Message of the Early Church (Paterson,
470
BIBLIOGRAPHY
N. J. 1944); J. Klevinghaus, Die theologische Stellung der Apostolischen Vdter zur alt-
testamentlichen Offenbarung (Giitersloh 1948); T. F. Torrance, The Doctrine of Grace in
the Apostolic Fathers (Edinburgh 1948); A. Benoit, Le bapteme au deuxieme siecle (Paris
1953); M. Spanneut, Le sto'icisme des peres de I'eglise de Clement de Rome d Clement
d'Alexandrie (Paris 1957); A. O’Hagan, The Concept of Material Re-Creation in the
Apostolic Fathers (diss. Munich 1960); E. A. Judge, The Social Pattern of the Christian
Groups in the 1st Century (London 1960); G. Bruni, Fonti religiose e riflessione filosofica
nella Bibbia e nei Padri Apostolici (Rome 1960); P. G. Verweijs, Evangelium und neues
Gesetz in der altesten Christenheit bis auf Marcion (Utrecht 1961); K. Lake, The Apos
tolic Fathers, 2 vols. (New York 1925); C. Richardson, Early Christian Fathers (London
1953), which ist the first volume of a new Protestant collection: The Library of Christian
Classics; D. Barsotti, La dottrina dell'amore nei Padri della chiesa fino a Ireneo (Milan
1963).
Special Editions and literature on individual texts:

(a) Clement of Rome: K. T. Schafer in FlorPatr 44 (1941); A. Stuiber, “Clemens”
in RAC III (1957), 188-97; J. Lebreton, “La trinit£ chez S. Clement de Rome” in Gr 6
(1925), 369-404; A. Harnack, Einfuhrung in die alte Kirchengeschichte (Leipzig 1929);
F. Gerke, Die Stellung des 1. Klemensbriefs innerhalb der altchristlichen Gemeindever-
fassung (Leipzig 1931); E. Bamikol in ThJ 4 (1936), 61-80 (Christology, baptism, and
the Lord’s supper); P. Meinhold, “Geschehen und Deutung im 1. Klemensbrief” in ZKG 58
(1939), 82-126; L. Sanders, L’hellenisme de S. Clement de Rome et le Paulinisme (Louvain
1934); M. Smith, “Report about Peter in 1 Clement 5:4” in NTS 7 (1960), 86-8; W. C.
van Unnik, “1 Clem. 34” in VigChr 5 (1951), 204-48; idem, “Le nombre des elus dans la
premiere epitre de Clement” in RHPhR 42 (1962), 237-46; C. Eggenberger, Die Quelle
der politischen Ethik des 1. Clemensbriefes (Zurich 1951); A. W. Ziegler, Neue Studien
zum 1. Klemensbrief (Munich 1958); J. Colson, Clement de Rome (Paris 1960); C. Nielsen,
“Clement of Rome and Moralism” in CH 31 (1962), 131-50.
(b) Ignatius of Antioch: P. G. Crone (Munster, 2nd ed. 1958); T. Camelot in

SourcesChr 10 (3rd ed. 1958); M. Rackl, Die Christologie des hi. Ignatius von Antiochien
(Freiburg i. Br. 1914); J. Lebreton, “La theologie de la Trinite d’apr&s S. Ignace
d’Antioche” in RSR 25 (1925), 97-126, 393-419; H. Schlier, Religionsgeschichtliche Unter-
suchungen zu den Ignatiusbriefen (Giessen 1929); C. P. S. Clarke, St Ignatius and St Poly
carp (London 1930); C. C. Richardson, The Christianity of Ignatius of Antioch (New
York 1935); J. Moffat, “An Approach to Ignatius” in HThR 29 (1936), 1-38; T. Preiss,
“La mystique de Limitation du Christ et l’unit£ chez Ignace d’Antioche” in RHPhR 18
(1938), 197-241; H. B. Bartsch, Gnostisches Gut und Gemeindetradition bet Ignatius von
Antiochien (Giitersloh 1940) ;R.Bultmann, “Ignatius und Paulus” in Festschrift J.deZwaan
(Haarlem 1952-3), 37-51); W. Bieder, “Zur Deutung des kirchl. Schweigens bei Ignatius”
in ThZ 12 (1956), 28-43; J. Hannah, “Setting of the Ignatian long recension” in JBL 79
(1960), 221-38; V. Corwin, St Ignatius and Christianity in Antioch (New Haven 1960);
H.Musurillo, “Ignatius of Antioch: Gnostic or Essene” in ThSt 22 (1961), 103-9; R. Grant,
“Scripture and Tradition in St Ignatius of Antioch” in CBQ 25 (1963), 322-35; J. Colson,
Agape chez St Ignace d'Antioch (Paris 1961).
(c) Polycarp of Smyrna: Letter to the Philippians in T. Camelot, SourcesChr 10

(3rd ed. 1958); P. N. Harrison, Polycarp's Two Epistles to the Philippians (Cambridge
1936); H. Katzenmayer, “Polykarp” in IKZ 59 (1951), 146-56; H. von Campenhausen,
Polykarp von Smyrna und die Pastoralbriefe (Heidelberg 1951); P. Meinhold, “Polykarp
von Smyrna” in Pauly-Wissowa 21 (1952), 1662-93; L. Barnard, “Problem of Saint
Polycarp’s Epistle to the Philippians” in ChQR 163 (1962), 421-30.
471
BIBLIOGRAPHY
(d) Didache: H. Lietzmann, KIT 6 (Berlin 1936); T. Klausner, FlorPatr 1 (1940);

J. -P. Audet (Paris 1957) (with commentary), on which see H. deRiedmatten in Angelicum
36 (1959), 410-29; J. Schmid, "Didache” in RAC III, 1009-13; F. E. Vokes, The Riddle
of the Didache (London 1938); E. Peterson, "Ober einige Probleme der Didache-Ober-
lieferung” in RivAC 27 (1952), 37-68; E. Stommel, “Did. 16, 6” in RQ 48 (1953), 21-42;
A. Adam, “Erwagungen zur Herkunft der Didache” in ZKG 68 (1957), 1-47; P. Nautin,
"La composition de la Didache et son titre” in RHR 155 (1959), 191-214; A. Agnoletto,
“Motivi etico-escatologici nella Didache” in Convivium Dominicum (Catania 1959),
259-76; B. Butler, "The ‘Two Ways’ in the Didache” in JThS 12 (1961), 27-38.
On the liturgy of the Didache: H. Lietzmann, Messe und Herrenmahl (Bonn 1926),
230-8; A. Greiff, Das diteste Pascharitual der Kirche (Paderborn 1929); R. H. Connolly
in DR 55 (1937), 477-89; A. Arnold, Der Ursprung des christlichen Abendmahls (Frei
burg i.Br 1937); G. DLx in Theology }>7 (London 1938), 261-83; E. Peterson in ELit 58
(1944), 3-13.
(e) Pseudo-Barnabas: T. Klauser in FlorPatr 1 (1940); J. Schmid in RAC I (1950),

1207-17; A. Williams, "The Date of the Epistle of Barnabas” in JThS 34 (1933), 337-46;
P. Meinhold, “Geschichte und Exegese im Barnabas-Brief” in ZKG 59 (1940), 255-303;
K. Thieme, Kirche und Synagoge (Olten 1945), on which see ZKTh 74 (1952), 63-70;
A. Hermans, "Le Ps.-Barnabas est-il miltenariste?” in EThL 35 (1959), 849-76; L. W.
Barnard, “The Epistle of Barnabas — a Paschal Homily?” in VigChr 15 (1961), 8-22;
P. Prigent, Uepitre de Barnabe et ses sources (Paris 1961).
(f) Epistula Apostolorum: C. Schmidt, Gesprache Jesu mit seinen Jiingern (Leipzig
1919); H. Duensing, KIT 152 (Bonn 1925); Hennecke and Schneemelcher, Neutestament-
liche Apokryphen, I (Tubingen 1959), 126-55.
Its origins: J. Delazer in Antonianum 4 (1929), 257-92, 387-430; J. de Zwaan, Essays
presented to R. Harris (London 1933), 344-55; L. Gry, "La date de la parousie d’apres
l’epistula apostolorum” in RB 49 (1949), 86-97.
(g) Shepherd of Hermas: M. Whittaker, GCS 48 (Berlin 1956); English trans.

C. Taylor, The Shepherd of Hermas, 2 vols. (London 1903-6); R. Joly, SourcesChr 53
(1958); Coptic fragments, ed. by T. Lefort in Museon 51 (1938), 239-76; 52 (1939), 223-8;
W. J. Wilson, “The Career of the Prophet Hermas” in HThR 20 (1927), 21-60; C. Bonner,
“A Codex of the Shepherd of Hermas in the Papyri of the University of Michigan” in
HThR 18 (1925), 115-27; A. V. Strom, Allegorie und Wirklichkeit im Hirten des Hermas
(Leipzig 1936); E. Peterson, “Beitrage zur Interpretation der Visionen des Hermas” in
OrChrP 13 (1947), 624-35; idem in VigChr 8 (1954), 52-71; A. O’Hagan, "The Great
Tribulation to Come in the Pastor of Hermas” in TU 79 (1961), 305-11; R. Joly,
“Judaisme, christianisme et hell£nisme dans le Pasteur d’Hermas” in La Nouvelle Clio 5
(1953), 356-76; S. Giet, Hermas et les Pasteurs. Les trois auteurs du Pasteur d’Hermas
(Paris 1963). On penance: B. Poschmann, Poenitentia secunda (Bonn 1939); R. Mortimer,
The Origins of Private Penance in the Western Church (Oxford 1939); R. Joly in RHR
147 (1955), 32-49; K. Rahner in ZKTh 77 (1955), 385-431.
472
BIBLIOGRAPHY
10. The Development of the Church's Organization
S ources
As for Chapter 9.
L iterature
As for Chapter 9 with the addition of the following: H. Bruders, Die Verfassung der
Kirche bis 175 n.Christus (Mainz 1904); P. Batiffol, Primitive Catholicism (New York-
London 1911); R. Sohm, Wesen und Ursprung des Katholizismus (Leipzig, 2nd ed. 1912);
H. Lietzmann, “Zur altchristlichen Verfassungsgeschichte” in ZWTh 55 (1913), 97-153;
H. Dieckmann, Die Verfassung der Urkirche (Berlin 1923); A. J. Maclean, the Position
of Clergy and Laity in the Early Church (London 1930); O. Linton, “Das Problem der
Urkirche in der neuesten Forschung” (diss. Uppsala 1932); N. Lammle, Beitrage zum
Problem des Kirchenrechtes (Rottenburg 1933); J. V. Bartlet, Church Life and Order
during the First Four Centuries (Oxford 1943); K. E. Kirk, The Apostolic Ministry (Lon
don 1947, new imp. 1957); G. Bardy, La theologie de Peglise de S. Clement de Rome a
S.Irenee (Paris 1947); J.Ebers, Grundrifi des katholischen Kirchenrechts (Vienna 1950);
H. E. Feine, Kirchliche Rechtsgeschichte I: Die katholische Kirche (Weimar 1950);
H. von Campenhausen, Kirchliches Amt und geistliche Vollmacht (Tubingen 1952);
S. L. Greenslade, Schism in the Early Church (London 1953); J. Colson, Les fonctions
ecclesiales aux deux premiers siecles (Bruges 1956); P. Nautin, Lettres et ecrivains
chretiens des IT et HI* siecles (Paris 1961); A.Ehrhardt, “Christianity Before the Apostles’
Creed” in HThR 55 (1962), 73-119.
On the D ifferent O ffices in the C hurch : G. Sass, Apostelamt und Kirche (Munich
1939); G. Safi, “Die Apostel in der Didache” in Festschrift E. Lohmeyer (Stuttgart 1951),
233-9; K. H. Rengstorf, a7to(TToXo? in ThW I, 406-46; A. Michel, “Ordre, Ordination”
in DThC XI, 1193-1405; L. Marechal, “£v£que” in DBS II, 1297-1333; H. W. Beyer,
kiziaxoizoc, in ThW II, 604-17; J. Colson, Ueveque dans les communautes primitives
(Paris 1951); J. Munck, “Presbyters and Disciples of the Lord in Papias. Exegetic Com
ments on Eusebius, Hist. 3, 39” in HThR 52 (1959), 223-43; J. Colson, La fonction
diaconale aux origines de I’eglise (Bruges 1960).
On the P osition of the R oman C ongregation: F. R. van Cauwelaert, “L’intervention

de l’eglise de Rome £ Corinthe vers l’an 96” in RHE 31 (1935), 267-306, 765 f.; O. Perler,
“Ignatius von Antiochien und die romische Christengemeinde” in DTh 22 (1944), 413-51;
H. Katzenmayer, “Zur Frage des Primats und der kirchlichen Verfassungszustandigkeit
in der Didache” in IKZ 55 (1947), 31-43; K. H. Schelkle, “Romische Kirche im Romer-
brief” in ZKTh 81 (1959), 393-404; F.Dvornik, The Idea of the Apostolicity in Byzantium
and the Legend of the Apostle Andrew (Cambridge, Mass. 1959); O. Knoch, “Die Aus-
fiihrungen des ersten Clemensbriefes iiber die kirchliche Verfassung im Spiegel der neueren
Deutungen” in TQ 141 (1961), 385-407; N. Afanassieff et alii, The Primacy of Peter in
the Orthodox Church (Westminster, Md. 1963); B. Hemmerdinger, “La preponderance
de l’eglise de Rome en 95” in RSPhTh 47 (1963), 58-60.
11. Heterodox Jewish-Christian Currents

G eneral: H.-J. Schoeps, Theologie und Geschichte des Judenchristentums (Tubingen
1949); B.Reicke, Diakonie, Festfreude und Zelos (Uppsala-Wiesbaden 1951); J.Danieiou,
La theologie du Judeo-Christianisme (Paris 1958), Eng. tr. The Theology of Jewish
Christianity (London 1964); M. Black, “The Patristic Accounts of Jewish Sectarianism”
473
BIBLIOGRAPHY
in BJRL 41 (1959), 285-303; J. Munck, “Jewish Christianity in post-Apostolic Times”

in NTS 6 (1959-60), 103-16.
On the Ebionites: general survey with bibliography by G. Strecker in RAC IV (1959),
487-500; H.-J. Schoeps, “Ebionite Christianity” in jThS NS 4 (1953), 219-24; L. Goppelt,
Christentum und Judentum im 1. und 2. Jahrhundert (Giitersloh 1954); J. A. Fitzmyer,
“The Qumran Scrolls, the Ebionites and their Literature” in ThSt 16 (1955), 335-72;
S. G. F. Brandon, The Fall of Jerusalem and the Christian Church (London, 2nd ed. 1957);
P. Vielhauer,“Judenchristliche Evangelien” in Hennecke-Schneemelcher I (Tubingen 1959),
75-108; H.-J. Schoeps, “Apokalyptik im Neuen Testament” in ZNW 51 (1960), 101-11;
idem, Das Judenchristentum (Bern 1964).
On the P seudo-C lementines: general survey with bibliography by B.Rehm in RAC III
(1957), 197-206 and K. Baus in LThK VI (1961), 334-5; B. Rehm, Die Pseudo-
Klementinen I: Die Homilien, GCS 42 (Berlin 1953), II: Die Recognitionen, ed. by
B. Rehm and F. Paschke (ibid., in preparation), at present only in PG I; W. Frankenberg,
“Die syrischen Clementinen mit griechischem Paralleltext” in TU 48, 3 (Berlin 1937);
H.-J. Schoeps, Aus friichristlicher Zeit (Tubingen 1950), 38-81; idem, Urgemeinde,
Judenchristentum, Gnosis (Tubingen 1956), 68-86; G. Strecker, Das Judenchristentum in
den Ps.-Klementinen, TU 70 (Berlin 1958); H.-J. Schoeps, “Iranisches in den Ps.-
Klementinen” in ZNW 51 (1960), 1-10; W. Ullmann, “The Significance of the Epistula
Clementis in the Pseudo-Clementines” in JThS 11 (1960), 295-317.
On the Elchasaites: general account by G. Strecker in RAC IV (1959), 1171-86 (with

bibliography); H. Waitz, “Das Buch des Elchasai” in Harnack-Ehrung (Leipzig 1921),
87-104.
On the M andaeans: general account by C. Colpe in RGG 3rd ed. IV, 709-12;
K. Rudolf, Die Mandaer, 2 vols. (Gottingen 1960-1) (with sources and bibliography);
J. Behm, Die mandaische Religion und das Urchristentum (Leipzig 1927); R. Reitzenstein,
Die Vorgeschichte der christlichen Taufe (Leipzig 1929); E. S. Drower, The Mandaeans of
Iraq and Iran (Oxford 1937); T. Save-Soderbergh, Studies in the Gnostic Manichaean
Psalm-Book (Uppsala 1949); W. Baumgartner, “Der heutige Stand der Mandaerfrage” in
ThZ 6 (1950), 401-10; E. Bammel, “Zur Fruhgeschichte der Mandaer” in Orientalia 32
(1963), 220-5; M. Simon, Recherches d’histoire judeo-chretienne (Paris 1963).
S E C T IO N F O U R
The Church in the Second Century

12 . The Position of the Church under the Emperors Marcus Aurelius and
Commodus. Martyrdom of the Congregations of Lyons and Vienne
S ources
As for Chapter 9.
L iterature
As for Chapter 9, with the following additions: H. Eberlein, Mark Aurel und die Christen
(Breslau 1914); A. S. L. Ferqharson, Marcus Aurelius, his Life and his World (Oxford 1951);
W. Gorlitz, Mark Aurel, Kaiser und Philosoph (Stuttgart 1954); J. Beaujeu, La politique
romaine a Vapogee de I'empire, I: La politique religieuse des Antonins (Paris 1955);
474
BIBLIOGRAPHY
J. Straub, “Commodus und die Christen” in RAC III, 262-5; A. Charny, Les martyrs de
Lyon de 177 (Lyons 1936); E. Griffe, La Gaule chretienne a Vepoque romaine, I (Paris
1947), 17-33; H. Delehaye, “Les actes des martyrs de Pergame” in AnBoll 58 (1940),
142-76; E. Griffe, “Les actes du martyre Apollonius et le probl&me de la base juridique des
persecutions” in BLE 53 (1952), 65-76; F. Corsari, “Note sugli Acta martyrum Scillitano-
rum” in Nuovo Didaskaleion 6 (Catania 1956), 5-51; H. Karpp, “Die Zahl der scilitani-
schen Martyrer” in VigChr 15 (1961), 165-72; M. Sordi, “I ‘nuovi decreti’ di Marco Aurelio
contro i cristiani” in Studi Romani 9 (1961), 365-78; J. Colin, L’empire des Antonins et
les martyrs Gaulois de 177 (Bonn 1964).
13. Literary Polemic against Christianity

G eneral: J. Geffcken, Das Christentum im Kampf und Ausgleich mit der griechisch-
romischen Welt (Berlin, 3rd ed. 1920); J. Geffcken, Der Ausgang des griechisch-romischen
Heidentums (Heidelberg, 2nd ed. 1929); P. deLabriolle, La reaction paienne (Paris 1934);
W. Nestle, “Die Haupteinwande des antiken Denkens gegen das Christentum” in ARW 37
(1941), 51-100; M. Sordi in RSCI 16 (1962), 1-28; J. Jungkuntz, “Christian Approval of
Epicurism” in CH (1962) 279-93.
On F ronto : Labriolle, op.cit. 87-94; M. Brock, Studies in Fronto and his Age
(Cambridge 1911).
On Lucian : K. Mras, in Pauly-Wissowa XIII 2, 1725—77; A. Lesky, Griechische Literatur-

geschicbte (Bern 1958), 759-63, 765. Editions of De morte Peregrini: C. Jacobitz, Luciani
Opera, III (Leipzig 1904), 271-87; K. Mras, Die Hauptwerke des Lukian griechisch-
deutsch (Munich 1954), 470-505. Other works: J. Schwartz, Lucien de Samosate.
Philopseudes et De morte Peregrini (Paris 1951, with commentary); M. Caster, Lucien et
la pensee religieuse de son temps (Paris 1936); C. Curti, “Luciano di Samosata ed i
cristiani” in Misc. di Studi di letteratura cristiana antica (Catania 1954), 86-109;
G. Bagnani, “Peregrinus Proteus and the Christians” in Historia 4 (1955), 107-12;
H. D. Betz, “Lukian von Samosata und das Christentum” in N ovT 3 (1959) 226-37;
idem, Lukian von Samosata und das Neue Testament (Berlin 1961).
On C elsus: P. Merlan, “Celsus” in RAC II, 954-65 (bibliography to 1953). Editions of the
fragments of ’AXi)0Y)<; Xoyoc,: O. Glockner in KIT 151 (Bonn 1924); R. Bader (Tubingen
1940); English translation with commentary by H. Chadwick, Origen, Contra Celsum
(Cambridge 1953); W. de Boer, Scripta paganorum I-IV saec. de Christianis testimonia
(Leiden 1948); A. Miura-Stange, Celsus und Origenes (Giessen 1926); W. Volker, Das Bild
vom nichtgnostischen Christentum bei Celsus (Halle 1928); A. Wifstrand, Die wahre Lehre
des Kelsos (Lund 1942); W. de Boer, De eerste bestrijder van het Christendom (Groningen
1950); C. Andresen, Logos u. Nomos. Polemik des Kelsos wider das Christentum (Berlin
1955, with bibliography); H. O. Schroeder, “Celsus und Porphyrius als Christengegner” in
Die Welt als Geschichte 17 (1957), 190-202.
14. The Early Christian Apologists of the Second Century

C ollected Editions of the apologists: J. C. T. de Otto, Corpus apologetarum (Jena,
3rd ed. 1876-81); E. J. Goodspeed, Die dltesten Apologeten (omitting Theophilus)
(Gottingen 1914) with idem, Index apologeticus (Leipzig 1912). A new edition for the
GCS is planned.
G eneral Literature: see Bardenhewer I, 181 ff. and QuastenP, I, 189 f.; J. Geffcken,Zwei
griechische Apologeten (Leipzig 1907), ix- xliii and 239-322; A.Puech, Les apologistes grecs
475
BIBLIOGRAPHY
du deuxieme siecle de notre ere (Paris 1912); A. Hauck, Apologetik in der alten Kirche
(Leipzig 1918); I. Giordani, La prima polemica cristiana, gli apologetici del IP secolo
(Turin 1930; Brescia, 2nd ed. 1943); M. Pellegrino, Gli apologetici greet (Rome 1947); idem,
Studi sull’antica apologetica (Rome 1947); E. Benz, “Christus und Sokrates in der alten
Kirche” in ZNW 43 (1950-1), 195-224.
V. Monachino, “Intento pratico e propagandistico nell’apologetica greca del secondo
secolo” in Gr 32 (1951), 5-49, 187-222; R. M. Grant, “The Chronology of the Greek
Apologists” in VigChr 9 (1955), 25-33; idem, "The Fragments of the Greek Apologists
and Irenaeus” in Festschrift R. P. Casey (Freiburg i. Br. 1963), 179-218.
S pecial Studies: F. Andres, Die Engellehre der griechischen Apologeten des 2. Jahr-
hunderts (Paderborn 1914); K. Gronau, Das Theodizeeproblem in der altchristlichen Auf-
fassung (Tubingen 1922); J. Lortz, “Das Christentum als Monotheismus in den Apologien
des 2. Jahrhunderts” in Festschrift A. Ehrhard (Bonn 1922), 301-27; V. A. S. Little, The
Christology of the Apologists (London 1934); F. J. Dolger, “Sacramentum Infanticidii” in
AuC, IV (1934), 188-228; H. Rossbacher, Die Apologeten als politisch-wissenschaftliche
Schriftsteller (Halberstadt 1937); M. Pellegrino, II cristianesimo di fronte alia cultura
classica (Turin 1954); H. Hommel, Schopfer und Erhalter, Studien zum Problem Christen
tum und Antike (Berlin 1956); H. Wey, Die Funktionen der bosen Geister bei den grie
chischen Apologeten des 2. Jahrhunderts (Winterthur 1957); J. Danielou, Message
evangelique et culture hellenistique aux IP et IIP siecles (Tournai 1961), 11-80; A. Wif-
strand, Ueglise ancienne et la culture grecque (Paris 1962); J. FI. Waszink, “Some Observa
tions on the appreciation of the Philosophy of the Barbarians” in Melanges Chr. Mohs-
mann (Utrecht 1963), 41-56.
A ristides: Syrian and Greek text in R. Harris and J. A. Robinson, The Apology of
Aristides (Cambridge 1893); Greek text in J. Geffcken, op. cit. 3-27, with commentary,
ibid. 28-96; Goodspeed, op. cit. 3-23.
J ustin : The Apologies, ed. by A. W. F. Blunt (Cambridge 1911); G.Rauschen (Bonn,
2nd ed. 1911); G. Kruger (Tubingen 1915); M. Pfattisch (Munster 1933); S. Frasca (Turin
1938); Dialogus cum Tryphone, ed. by G. Archambauld (Paris 1909) and Goodspeed,
op. cit. 90-265. A new fragment of the Dialogus may be found in G. Mercati, Biblica 22
(1941), 339-66. On the text of the Apology see W. Schmid in ZNW 40 (1941), 87-138.
General appreciation in M.-J. Lagrange, S. Justin (Paris, 3rd ed. 1914); G. Bardy in DThC
VIII, 2228-77; M. S. Enslin in JQR 34 (1943), 179-205. See also: E.R. Goodenough, The
Theology of Justinus Martyr (Jena 1923); K. Thieme, Kirche und Synagoge (Olten 1945);
W. H. Shotwell, The Exegesis of Justin (Chicago 1955); R. Holte, “Logos Spermatikos:
Christianity and Ancient Philosophy according to St Justin’s Apologies” in StTh 12
(1958), 106-68; O. Piper, “The Nature of the Gospel according to Justin Martyr” in
The Journal of Religion 41 (1961), 155-68; J. Romanides, "Justin Martyr and the Fourth
Gospel” in The Greek Orthodox Theological Review 4 (1959), 115-34. Cullen, "I. K.
Story” in VigChr 16 (1962), 172-8 (Justin on baptism); O. Giordano, “S. Giustino e il
millenarismo” in Asprenas 10 (1963), 155-71. On the influence of Justin on Irenaeus, see
F. Loofs, Theophilus von Antiochien adversus Marcionem (Leipzig 1930), 339-74.
T atian : E. Schwartz (Leipzig 1888), TU 4, 1; translation, BKV 12 (1913), 177-257. On

the dating, see R. M. Grant in HThR 46 (1953), 99-101. Earlier literature in Quasten P, I,
220-8. The basic work at present is M. Elze, Tatian und seine Theologie (Gottingen 1960),
with full bibliography, 130-4.
A thenagoras: E. Schwartz (Leipzig 1891), TU 4, 2; P. Ubaldi and M. Pellegrino (Turin
1947); Geffcken, op. cit. 120-54, with commentary 155-238; English translation with
commentary in ACW 23 (London 1956); H. A. Lucks, The Philosophy of Athenagoras
476
BIBLIOGRAPHY
(Washington 1936); R. M. Grant, “Athenagoras or Pseudo-Athenagoras” in HThR 47

(1954), 121-9; idem, “Some Errors in the Legatio of Athenagoras” in VigChr (1958),
145-56.
T heophilus: ed. by S. Frasca (Turin 1938); G. Bardy and J. Sender in SourcesChr 20
(1948); history of the text, R. M. Grant in VigChr 6 (1952), 146-59. General appreciation:
E. Rapisarda, Studi Uhaldi (Milan 1937), 381-400; F. Loofs, Theophilus von Antiochien
adversus Marcionem (Leipzig 1930), TU 46, 2, on which see J. Lebon, in RHE 26 (1930),
675-9, and R. M. Grant in HThR 40 (1947), 227-56; idem, “The Problem of Theophilus”
in HThR 43 (1950), 179-96; A. Ziegler, Festschrift G. Sohngen (Freiburg i.Br. 1962),
332-6.
M elito of Sardes: the Fragments are in Routh, Reliquiae Sacrae (Oxford 1846), 111-53.
Editions of the Homily: C. Bonner (London 1940); B. Lohse (Leiden 1958); M. Testuz
(Cologne-Geneva 1960). On the text of the Homily see A. Wifstrand in VigChr 2 (1948),
211-23 and P. Nautin, in RHE 44 (1949), 429-38 (also against the authenticity); for its
authenticity see esp. E. Peterson in VigChr 6 (1952), 33-43, and B. Lohse in the foreword
to his edition; H. Chadwick, “A Latin Epitome of Melito’s Homily on the Pascha” in
JThS NS 11 (1960), 76-82. On his theology see A. Grillmeier in ZKTh 71 (1948), 5-14;
idem in Scholastik 20-24 (1949), 481-502 (Descensus Christi and doctrine of original sin).
On his doctrine of baptism see R. M. Grant in VigChr 4 (1950), 733-6. On his christology
see R. Cantalamessa in RSR 37 (1963), 1-26.
Letter to D iognetus: ed. by J. Geffcken (Heidelberg 1928); H.-I. Marrou in SourcesChr

33 (1951); English translation with commentary by A. Kleist in ACW 6 (1948); literature
on the question of authorship in Altaner 136. On the contents see J. G. O’Neill in IER 85
(1956), 92-106.
H ermias: Text in PG 6, 1169-80, and H. Diels, Doxographi graeci (Berlin, 2nd ed. 1929);
A. di Pauli, Die Irrisio des Hermias (Paderborn 1907); L. Alfonsi, Ermia filosofo (Brescia
1947).
15. The Dispute with Gnosticism
S ources
W. Volker, Quellen zur Geschichte der christlichen Gnosis (Tubingen 1932); H. Leisegang,
Die Gnosis (Stuttgart, 4th ed. 1955); F. Sagnard, “Extraits de Theodote” in SourcesChr 23
(1948); G. Quispel, “Lettre de Ptolemê & Flora”, ibid. 24 (1949); Coptic Gnostic
Writings, I, ed. by C. Schmidt, GCS 13 (1905), new ed. by W. Till, GCS 45 (1959)
(Contents: Pistis Sophia, the 2 Books of Jeu, the Apocryphon of John); W. Till, Die
Gnostischen Schriften des Papyrus Berolinensis 8502, TU, 60 (Berlin 1955) (Contents:
Gospel according to Mary, Apocryphon of John, Sophia Jesu Christi)', P.Labib, Coptic
Gnostic Papyri in the Coptic Museum at Old Cairo I (Cairo 1950) (Photocopies of Sermon
on the Resurrection, Apocryphon of John, Gospel of Thomas, Gospel of Philip, On the
Nature of Archons); M. Malinine, H.-C. Puech, and G. Quispel, Evangelium veritatis
(Zurich 1956); A. Guillaumont, H.-C. P uech ..., L'Evangile selon Thomas (Leiden 1959)
(Coptic text); J. Doresse, Vevangile selon Thomas ou les paroles secretes de Jesus (Paris
1959); W. C. van Unnik, Newly Discovered Gnostic Writings (Naperville, 111. 1960);
J. Leipoldt and H. M. Schenke, Koptisch-gnostische Schriften aus den Papyruscodices von
Nag Hammadi (Hamburg-Bergstadt 1960) (Gospel of Thomas, Gospel of Philip, On the
Nature of Archons, with commentary); R. M. Grant and D. N. Freedman, The Secret
Sayings of Jesus (London, 2nd ed. 1960); R. Grant, Gnosticism: A Source Book of Heretical
477
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Writings from the Early Christian Period (New York 1961); K. Grobel, The Gospel of
Truth. A Valentinian Meditation on the Gospel, trans. from the Coptic (Nashville 1960);
A. Klijn, The Acts of Thomas (Leiden 1962); W. C. Till, Das Evangelium nach Philippos
(Berlin 1963).
L i t e r a t u r e : 1. G e n e r a l
General accounts in RGG 3rd. ed. Ill, 1652-61; LThK IV, 1021-30; and Altaner 138-147.
See further E. de Faye, Gnostiques et Gnosticisme (Paris, 2nd ed. 1925); F. C. Burkitt,
Church and Gnosis (Cambridge 1932); G. Quispel, Gnosis als Weltreligion (Zurich 1951);
H. Leisegang, Die Gnosis (Stuttgart 1955); H. Jonas, Gnosis und spatantiker Geist, I
(Gottingen, 2nd ed. 1954), II/l (Gottingen 1954); A.-J. Festugi&re, La revelation d’Hermas
TrismSgiste, IV: Le Dieu inconnu et la gnose (Paris 1954); G. van Moorsel, The Mysteries
of Hermas Trismegistus (Utrecht 1955); H.-J. Schoeps, Urgemeinde, Judenchristentum,
Gnosis (Tubingen 1956); W. Schmithals, Die Gnosis in Korinth (Gottingen 1956); W. Frei,
Geschichte und Idee der Gnosis (Bern 1958); R. McL. Wilson, The Gnostic Problem
(London 1958); R. Ambelais, La notion gnostique du demiurge dans les ecritures et les
traditions judeo-chretiennes (Paris 1959); R. M. Grant, Gnosticism and Early Christianity
(New York-London 1959); E. Peterson, Friihkirche, Judentum und Gnosis (Freiburg i.Br.
1959); C. Colpe, Die religionsgeschichtliche Schule I (Gottingen 1961).
2. T h e D i s cove r i es at N ag H ammadi
H.-C. Puech, “Les nouveaux ecrits gnostiques decouverts en Haute-figypte” in Coptic
Studies in Honour of W. E. Crum (Boston 1950), 91-154; M. Schenke in ZRGG 14 (1962).
On the Jung Codex: H. C. Puech and G. Quispel in VigChr 8 (1954), 1-51; 9 (1955),
65-102; F. L. Cross, The Codex Jung (London 1955); J. Doresse, The Secret Books of the
Egyptian Gnostics (New York 1960).
On the Gospel of Thomas: G. Quispel, “L’£vangile selon Thomas et les Clementines” in
VigChr 12 (1958), 181-96; R. M. Grant, ibid. 13 (1959), 170-80; G. Quispel, “L’^vangile
selon Thomas et le Diatessaron”, ibid. 13 (1959), 87-117; J. A. Fitzmyer, “TheOxyrhynchos
Logoi of Jesus and the Coptic Gospel according to Thomas” in ThSt 20 (1959), 505-60;
K. T. Schafer, Bibel und Leben, 1 (1960), 62-74; O. Cullmann in ThLZ 85 (1960), 321-34;
FI. Montefiore, “A Comparison of the Parables of the Gospel according to Thomas and
the Synoptic Gospels” in NTS 7 (1960), 220-48; C. H. FFunziger in ZNW suppl. 26 (1960),
209-30; R. Roques in RHR 157 (1960), 187-218; G. Scholem, Jewish Gnosticism (New
York 1960); B. Gartner, The Theology of the Gospel of Thomas (London 1961); R. Kasser,
Uevangile selon Thomas (Neuchatel 1961); R. Wilson, The Gospel of Philip (London 1962).
3. S p e c i a l S t u d i e s
W. C. Till, “Die Gnosis in Agypten” in Parola del passato 4 (1949), 230-49; G. Widen-,
gren, “Der iranische Hintergrund der Gnosis” in ZRGG 4 (1952), 97-114; E. Haenchen,
“Gab es eine vorchristliche Gnosis?” in ZThK 49 (1952), 316-49; H. C. Puech, “La gnose
et le temps” in Eranos 20 (1952), 57-113; W. H. C. Frend, "The Gnostic-Manichaean
Tradition in Roman North Africa” in JEH 4 (1953), 13-26; idem, “The Gnostic Sects
and the Roman Empire”, ibid. 5 (1954), 25-37; R. McL. Wilson, “Gnostic Origins” in
VigChr 9 (1955), 193-211; 11 (1957), 93-110; E. Segelberg, “The Coptic-Gnostic Gospel
according to Philip and its Sacramental System” in Numen 7 (1960) 182-200; W. C.
van Unnik, “Die jiidische Komponente in der Entstehung der Gnosis”, ibid. 15 (1961),
65-82; G. Mead, Fragments of Faith Forgotten (Toronto 1960); J. G. Davies, “The Origins
of Docetism” in Studia Patristica 6 (TU 81, Berlin 1962), 13-35; J. Maier, “Judentum und
Gnosis” in Kairos 5 (1963), 18-40.
478
BIBLIOGRAPHY
The Principal Manifestations of Gnosticism

1. B asilides: H. Waszink, “Basilides” in RAC I, 1217-25; G. Quispel, “L’homme
gnostique. La doctrine de Basilide” in Eranos 16 (1948), 89-139; R. M. Grant, “Gnostic
Origins and the Basilidians of Irenaeus” in VigChr 13 (1959), 121-5; W. Foerster, “Das
System des Basilides” in NTS 9 (1962-3), 233-55.
2. V alentinian G nosis: F.-M.-M. Sagnard, La gnose Valentinienne et le temoignage de
s. Irenee (Paris 1947); G. Quispel, “La conception de I’homme dans la gnose Valentinienne”
in Eranos 15 (1947), 249-86; idem, “The Original Doctrine of Valentine” in VigChr 1
(1947), 48-73; idem, “Neue Funde zur Valentinianischen Gnosis” in ZRGG 6 (1954),
289-305; O. Reimhers, “Irenaeus and the Valentinians” in The Lutheran Quarterly 12
(1960), 55-59; A. Orbe, “Estudios Valentinianos” in AnGr (1955), 113 (1961).
3. M arcion: A. von Harnack, Marcion (Leipzig, 2nd ed. 1924; new imp. Darmstadt 1961);
E. Barnikol, Die Entstehung der Kirche im 2. Jahrhundert und die Zeit Marcions (Kiel,
2nd ed. 1933); R. S. Wilson, Marcion (London 1933); J. Knox, Marcion and the New
Testament (Chicago 1942); E. C. Blackman, Marcion and his Influence (London 1949);
F. M. Braun, “Marcion et la gnose Simonienne” in Byz(B) 25-7 (1955-7), 631-48; A. Salles,
“Simon le magicien ou Marcion?” in VigChr 12 (1958), 197-224.
4. C hristian G nosis: E. Haenchen, “Das Buch Baruch und die christliche Gnosis” in
ZThK 48 (1953), 123-58; C. Grant, “Earliest Christian Gnosticism” in CH 22 (1953),
81-98; L. Bouyer, “Gnosis, le sens orthodoxe de l’expression jusqu’aux peres Alexandrins”
in JThS NS 4 (1953), 188-203; G. Quispel, “Christliche Gnosis und jiidische Heterodoxie”
in EvTh 14 (1954), 474-84; H. Schlier, "Das Denken der friihchristlichen Gnosis” in
Neutestamentliche Studien fur R. Bultmann (Berlin 1954), 67-82.
The Church's Self-Defence and the Importance of the Christian Victory

T radition : J. Ranft, Der Ursprung des katholischen Traditionsbegriffes (Wurzburg 1931);
A. Deneffe, Der Traditionsbegriff (Munster 1931); B. Reynders, “Paradosis” in RThAM 5
(1933), 155-91; O. Cullmann, Tradition (Zurich 1954). For Irenaeus’s idea of tradition,
see the following articles: H. Holstein in RSR 36 (1949), 229-70; 41 (1953), 410-20;
E. Molland in JEH 1 (1950), 12-28; E. Lanne in Irenikon 25 (1952), 113-41; A. Benoit
in RHPhR 40 (1960), 32-43; M. Thurian, “La tradition” in Verbum Caro 57 (1961),
49-98. — Y. Congar, La tradition et les traditions (Paris 1960); G. Hanson, Tradition in
the Early Church (London 1962); G. Widengren, "Tradition and Literature in Early
Judaism and the Early Church” in Numen 10 (1963), 42-83.
A postolic Succession: C. H. Turner, Apostolic Succession: Essays on the Early History

of the Church and the Ministry, ed. H. B. Swete (London, 2nd ed. 1921), 93-214; A. Ehr-
hardt, The Apostolic Succession in the First Two Centuries of the Church (London 1953);
H. von Campenhausen, Kirchliches Amt und geistliche Vollmacht in den ersten drei Jahr-
hunderten (Tubingen 1953); H. E. W. Turner, The Pattern of Truth (London 1954);
G. Dix, “The Ministry in the Early Church” in K. E. Kirk, The Apostolic Ministry
(London, 2nd ed. 1957) 183-303; J. Colson, “La succession apostolique au niveau du
Ier siecle” in Verbum Caro 54 (1960), 138-72; E. Schlink, “Die apostolische Sukzession”
in KuD 7 (1961), 79-114; A. Benoit, “L’apostolicit£ au second siecle” in Verbum Caro 58
(1961), 173-84; G. Blum, Tradition and Sukzession (Berlin 1963).
T he Establishment of the C anon : A. Wikenhauser, New Testament Introduction (Frei

burg-London-New York, 4th imp. 1963), 18-35; M.-J. Lagrange, Histoire ancienne du
canon du N.T. (Paris 1933); R. M. Grant, “The Bible of Theophilus of Antioch” in JBL 66
479
BIBLIOGRAPHY
(1947), 173-96. For Marcion, see the works by J. Knox and E. C. Blackman mentioned
at the beginning of the bibliography to this chapter. W. L. Duli&re, “Le canon n£o-
testamentaire et les Merits chr^tiens approuv£s par Ir£nee” in N C 6 (1954), 199-234;
R. Harris, Inspiration and Canonicity of the Bible (Grand Rapids 1957); H. Bacht, “Die
Rolle der Tradition in der Kanonbildung” in Catholica 12 (1958), 16-37; W. Marxsen
and C. H. Ratschow in NZSTh 2 (1960), 137-50, 150-60; Y. Congar, “Inspiration des
Ventures canoniques et apostolicit£ de P^glise” in RSPhTh 45 (1961), 32-42; W. van Unnik,
*H xaivq S iocOtjxt), TU 79 (1961), 212-27; K. Aland, The Problem of the N.T. Canon
(London 1962).
T he C reed: H. Lietzmann, “Symbolstudien” in ZNW 2 (1922); 26 (1927) repr. in Kleine
Schriften III (Berlin 1962), 189-281; J. Lebreton, Histoire du dogme de la trinite, I (Paris
1928), 141-73; J. de Ghellinck, “Les recherches sur l’origine du symbole” in RHE 38
(1942), 91-142, 361-410; O. Cullmann, Les premieres confessions de la foi chretienne
(Paris, 2nd ed. 1948); J. N. D. Kelly, Early Christian Creeds (London 1950); W. Trillhaas,
Die apostolischen Glaubensbekenntnisse (Witten 1953).
H egesippus: K. Mras, “Die Hegesippfrage” in AnzAW 95 (1958), 143-53; W. Telfer,

“Was Hegesippus a Jew?” in HThR 53 (1960), 134-53; N . Hyldahl, “Hegesipps Hypo-
mnemoneumata” in StTh 14 (1960), 70-113.
I renaeus: W. W. Harvey’s ed. (Cambridge 1857) was reprinted unaltered in 1949;

J. Keble, Five Books of St Irenaeus, Bishop of Lyons, Against Heresies (Oxford 1872).
A new critical ed. by F. Sagnard is appearing in SourcesChr.; Book III has already been
published, 34 (Paris 1952), on this see P. Nautin RThAM 20 (1953), 185-202, B. Botte,
ibid. 21 (1954), 165-78 and ACW 16 (1952), Proof of the Apostolic Preaching. A new
French translation of the Demonstratio evangelica with commentary by L.-M. Froide-
vaux in SourcesChr 62 (Paris 1959). Other works on Irenaeus: A. Benoit, S. lrenee.
Introduction a Vetude de sa theologie (Paris 1960; with bibliography 257-62); J. Lawson,
The Biblical Theology of Saint Irenaeus (London 1948); W. Leuthold, Das Wesen der
Haresie nach Irenaus (diss. Zurich 1954); L. Thornton, “St Irenaeus and Contemporary
Theology”, TU 64 (1957), 317-30. G. Wingren, Man and the Incarnation (Philadelphia
1959); E. Lanne, “La vision de Dieu dans l’CEuvre de s. Ir£nee” in Irenikon 33 (1960),
311-20; V. Hahn, “Schrift, Tradition und Primat bei Irenaeus”, in TThZ 70 (1961),
233-43, 292-302; B. Reynders, “Premieres reactions de l’£glise devant les falsifications du
depot apostolique” in Uinfallibility de I'eglise (Chevetogne 1963), 27-52; H. Dorries,
“Urteil und Verurteilung - Ein Beitrag zum Umgang der alten Kirche mit Haretikern” in
ZN W 55 (1964), 78-94.
16. 7 he Rise of Montanism and the Church's Defence

S ources
P. deLabriolle, Les sources de l‘histoire du Montanisme (Paris 1913); N. Bonwetsch, Texte
zur Geschichte des Montanismus (Bonn 1914), KIT 129.
L iterature
P. de Labriolle, La crise Montaniste (Paris 1913); W. M. Calder, “Philadelphia and
Montanism” in BJRL 7 (1923), 309-54; W. M. Ramsey, “Phrygian Orthodox and
Heretics” in ByZ 6 (1931), 1-35; J. Zeiller, “Le Montanisme a-t-il pen£tr£ en Illyricum?”
in RHE 30 (1934), 847-51; H. Bacht, “Die prophetische Inspiration in der kirchlichen
480
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Reflexion der vormontanistischen Zeit” in ThQ 125 (1944), 1-18; G.Freeman, “Montanism
and the Phrygian cults” in DomSt 3 (1950), 297-316; S. S. P. Freeman-Grenville, “The
Date of the Outbreak of Montanism” in JEH 5 (1954), 7-15; K. Aland, “Der Montanis-
mus und die kleinasiatische Theologie” in ZNW 46 (1955), 109-16, Kirchengeschichtliche
Entwiirfe (Giitersloh 1960), 105-11; idem, “Augustin und der Montanismus”; ibidem,
149-64.
17. The Expansion of Christianity down to the End of the Second Century
G eneral
W. M. Ramsey, The Church in the Roman Empire before 170 (London, 13th ed. 1913);
A. von Harnack, Die Mission und Ausbreitung des Christentums in den ersten drei Jahr-
hunderten (2 vols. Leipzig, 4th ed. 1924), Eng. tr. The Mission and Expansion of Chris
tianity in the First Three Centuries, I (New York, 2nd ed. 1962); F. J. Foakes-Jackson,
The Rise of Gentile Christianity (to ISO) (London 1927); K. S. Latourette, A History of
the Expansion of Christianity, I (New York 1937); G. Bardy, La conversion au chris-
tianisme durant les premiers siecles (Paris 1949); B. Rotting, “Christentum (Ausbreitung)”
in RAC II (1954), 1138-59; P. Carrington, The Early Christian Church, II: The Second
Century (Cambridge 1957); F. van der Meer and C. Mohrmann, Atlas of the Early Chris
tian World (London 1958).
S pecial Studies
K. Pieper, Die Kirche Paldstinas bis zum Jahre 135 (Cologne 1938); C. Korolevsky,
“Antioche” in DHGE III, 563-72; V. Schultze, Altchristliche Stadte und Landschaften,
III: Antiochien (Giitersloh 1930); J. Kollwitz, “Antiochien” in RAC I, 461-9; I. Ortiz
de Urbina, “Le origini del cristianesimo in Edessa” in Gr 15 (1934), 82-91; H. Leclercq,
“Edesse” in DACL IV, 2055-110; E. Kirsten, “Edessa” in RAC IV, 568-72; M. Hofner,
“Arabien” in RAC I, 579-85; R. Devreesse, “Le christianisme dans la province d’Arabie”
in Vivre et Penser 2 (1942), 110-46; N . Edelby, “La Transjordanie chretienne des origines
aux croisades” in PrOrChr 6 (1956), 97-117; A. Bohlig, “Agypten” in RAC I, 128-38;
E. R. Hardy, Christian Egypt (New York 1952); H. I. Bell, Cults and Creeds in Greco-
Roman Egypt (Liverpool 1954); H. Leclercq, “Rome” in DACL XIV/2, 2546-67;
G. delaPiana, “The Roman Church at the End of the Second Century” in HThR 18
(1925), 201 ff.; A. Audollent, “Afrique” DHGE I, 706-12; A. M. Schneider, “Afrika” in
RAC I, 173-9; J. Mesnage, U Afrique chretienne (Paris 1912); C. Cecchelli, Africa Chris
tiana — Africa Romana (Rome 1936); J. Ferron, “Carthage chretienne” in DHGE XI,
1178-87; W .H .C . Frend, “The ‘seniores Laid’ and the Origins of the Church of North
Africa” in jThS NS 12 (1961), 280-4; E. Griffe, La Gaule chretienne, I (Paris 1947), 7-50;
R. Kasser, “Les origines du christianisme egyptien” in RThPh 12 (1962), 11-28;
L. W. Barnard, “The Background of Early Egyptian Christianity” in ChQR 164 (1963),
300-10, 428-41; W. H. C. Frend, “A Note on the Influence of Greek Immigrants on the
Spread of Christianity in fhe West” in Festschrift T. Klauser (Munster 1964), 125-9.
481
Part Two:
The Great Church of Early Christian Times
(c. A .D . 180-324)
G eneral L iterature
A. Ehrhard, Die Kirche der M'drtyrer (Munich 1932); Flicbe-Martin II; Lietzmann II,
219-329, III, 1-67.
On the R oman E mpire in the T hird C entury: M. Besnier, Uempire romain de
I’avenement des Severes au concile de Nicee (Paris 1937); The Cambridge Ancient
History, XII (Cambridge 1939); E. Kornemann, Weltgeschichte des Mittelmeerraumes, II
(Munich 1949), 174-288; F. Altheim, Niedergang der alien Welt, II: Imperium Roma-
num (Frankfurt a. M. 1952); J. Geffcken, Der Ausgang des griechisch-rdmischen Heidcn-
tums (Heidelberg, 2nd ed. 1929); L. Pareti, Storia di Roma e del mondo Romano, vol. VI:
Da Decio a Costantino (Turin 1961).
S E C T IO N ONE
The Inner Consolidation of the Church in the Third Century
18. The Attack of the Pagan State on the Church
S ources
As for Chapter 9 above. The acta of the martyrs are referred to in the footnotes. New
critical edition of Tertullian’s Ad martyras by A. Quacquarelli (Rome 1963).
Literature
K. Bihlmeyer, Die syrischen Kaiser zu Rom und das Christentum (Rottenburg 1916);
L. Homo, Les empereurs romains et le christianisme (Paris 1931); A. Quacquarelli, “La
persecuzione secondo Tertulliano” in Gr 31 (1950), 562-89; L. Koep, “Antikes”
Kaisertum und Christusbekenntnis im Widerspruch” in JbAC 4 (1961) 58-76; G. de
Ste Croix, “Why were the Early Christians Persecuted?” in Past and Present (1963),
6-38.
Septimius Severus: A. Calderini, I Seven (Bologna 1949); M. Fluss in Pauly-Wissowa
A 2 (1923), 1940-2002; M. Platnauer, Life and Reign of Septimius Severus (Oxford
4 82
BIBLIOGRAPHY
1918); U. Instinsky, “Studien zu Septimius Severus” in Klio 35 (1942), 200-19; J. Straub,

“Caracalla” in RAC II, 893-901 (with bibliography); K. Gross, “Elagabal” in RAC IV,
998-1000; J. Straub, “Alexander Severus” in LThK I, 312 ff.; A. Alfoldi, “Der Rechts-
streit zwischen der romischen Kirche und dem Verein der popinarii” in Klio 31 (1938),
249-53; A. A. Schwarte, “Das angebliche Christengesetz des Septimius Severus” in
Historia 12 (1963), 185-208.
D ecius: K. Gross in RAC III, 611-29. As sources the following are important: Cyprian,
De lapsis, and Epist. 5-43, 55-6, 65-7; Dionysius of Alexandria in Euseb. HE 6, 39
to 42, and cf. H. Delehaye in AnBoll 40 (1922), 9-17.
E. Liesering, Untersuchungen zur Christenverfolgung des Kaisers Decius (diss. Wiirz-
burg 1933); A. Alfoldi in Klio 31 (1938), 323-48; C. Saumagne, “La persecution de
Dece k Carthage d’apres la correspondance de s. Cyprien” in Bulletin soc. nat. antiquaires
de France (1957), 23-42; idem, “La persecution de Dece en Afrique” in Byz 32 (1962),
1-29.
Texts of the libelli: POr IV, 2; XVIII, 3; RB 54 (1947), 365-9, and cf. R. Knipfing in
HThR 16 (1923), 345-90; also DACL 9 (1930), 81-5; A. Bludau in RQ Supplement 27
(1927).
T he V alerian P ersecution: P. Franchi de’ Cavalieri in SteT 9 (1902), 39-51; 27

(1915), 65-82; 33 (1920), 147-78; 65 (1935), 129-99; P. Healy, The Valerian Persecution
(Boston 1905); P. Paschini, “La persecuzione di Valeriano” in Studi Romani 6 (Rome
1958), 130-7.
19. Further Development of Christian Literature in the East in the Third

Century
G eneral Literature
Bardenhewer II; Quasten P, II; Altaner 212ff.; D. van den Eynde, Les normes de
Venseignement chretien dans la litterature patristique des trois premiers siecles (Gembloux
1933); J. Danieiou, Message evangelique et culture hellenistique aux I le et IIP siecles
(Tournai 1961); P. Nautin, Lettres et ecrivains chretiens des IP et IIP siecles (Paris
1961).
School of A lexandria
W. Bousset, Jiidisch-christlicher Schulbetrieb in Alexandrien und Rom (Gottingen 1915);
G. Bardy, “Les £coles romaines au second siecle” in RHE 28 (1932), 501-32; idem,
“L'eglise et l’enseignement pendant les trois premiers siecles” in RevSR 12 (1932), 1-28;
L. Allevi, Ellenismo e cristianesimo (Milan 1934); G. Bardy, “Pour Phistoire de Pecole
d’Alexandrie” in Vivre et penser 2 (Paris 1942), 80-109; L. Ldpez Oreja, “Alejandrfa,
su escueala, un maestro” in Helmantica I (1950), 402-52; A. Knauber, “Katecheten-
schule oder Schulkatechumetat? Um die rechte Deutung des ‘Unternehmens’ der ersten
grofien Alexandriner” in TThZ 60 (1951), 243-66; P. Brezzi, La gnosi cristiana e le
antiche scuole cristiane (Rome 1950); E. A. Parsons, The Alexandrian Library, Glory of
the Hellenic World (London 1952).
R. Cadiou, La jeunesse d’Origene. Histoire de Pecole d’Alessandrie au debut du IIP
siecle (Paris 1936); G. Bardy, “Aux origines de l’^cole d’Alexandrie” in RSR 27
(1937), 65-90; M. Hornschuh, “Das Leben des Origenes und die Entstehung der
alexandrinischen Schule” in ZKG 71 (1960), 1-25, 193-214; R. B. Tollinton, Alexandrian
483
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Teaching on the Universe (New York 1932); E. Molland, The Conception of the Gospel
in the Alexandrian Theology (Oslo 1938); J. Guillet, “Les exegeses d’Alexandrie et
d’Antioche: Conflit ou malentendu?” in RSR 34 (1947), 247-302; H. de Lubac, “Typo-
logie et all^gorisme” in RSR 34 (1947), 180-226; ibid. 47 (1959), 5-43; W. Gruber,
Die pneumatische Exegese bei den Alexandrinern (Graz 1957); R. Cadiou, “La bibliothfe-
que de C^sarê et la formation des Chaines” in RevSR 16 (1936) 474-83; G. Lattey,
“The Antiochene Text” in Scripture 4 (1951), 273-77; F. Pericoli Ridolfini, “Le origini
della scuola di Alessandria” in RSO 37 (1962), 211-30.
P antainus : G. Gnolfo in PrOrChr 1 (1951), 295-304; P. Nautin in Tome commemoratif

du millenaire de la Bibliotheque d’Alexandrie (Alexandria 1953), 145-52; A. Parsons,
“A Family of Philosophers at Athens and Alexandria” in Hesperia Suppl. VIII (1950).
C lement
W orks in GCS, 4 vols. (1905-36, 2nd ed. 1936-60), edited by O. Stahlin; also
SourcesChr 2 (2nd ed. 1949): Protrepticus; 30 (1951): Stromata I; 38 (1954): Stromata
II; 70 (1960): Paidagogus I; 23 (1948): Excerpta ex Theodoto. This latter work also
edited by R. P. Casey (London 1934). Eng. ANF 2 (New York 1905).
L iterature: J. Munck, Untersuchungen iiber Klemens von Alexandrien (Stuttgart 1933);

G. Lazzati, Introduzione alio studio di Clem. Alex. (Milan 1939); C. Mond£sert,
Clement d’Alexandrie. Introduction a I’etude de sa pensee religieuse (Paris 1944);
M. S. Enslin, “A Gentleman among the Fathers” in HThR 47 (1954), 213—41; M.
Pohlenz, Klemens von Alexandrien und sein hellenistisches Christentum (Gottingen 1943);
T. Camelot, Foi et gnose. Introduction a I’etude de la connaissance mystique chez
Clement d’Alexandrie (Paris 1945); F. Quatember, Die christliche Lebenshaltung des
Klemens von Alexandrien nach seinem Padagogus (Vienna 1946); T. Riither, Die sittliche
Forderung der Apatheia bei Klemens von Alexandrien (Freiburg i. Br. 1949); W. Volker,
Der wahre Gnostiker nach Klemens von Alexandrien (Berlin 1952); E. F. Osborne,
The Philosophy of Clement of Alexandria (Cambridge 1957); K. Priimm, “Glaube und
Erkenntnis nach Klemens von Alexandrien” in Scholastik 12 (1937), 17-57; J. Lebreton,
“La theologie de la Trinite chez Clement d’Alexandrie” in RSR 34 (1947), 55-76,
142-79; J. Moingt, “La gnose de Clement d’Alexandrie dans ses rapports avec la foi
et la philosophic” in RSR 37 (1950), 195-241, 381-421, 537-64; ibid. 38 (1951), 82-118;
A. Orbe, “Teologia bautismal de Clem. Alex.” in Gr 36 (1955), 410-48; F. Hofmann,
“Die Kirche bei Klemens von Alexandrien” in Festgabe K. Adam (1956), 11-57; J.
Wytzes, “The Twofold Way: Platonic Influences in the Work of Clement of Alexandria”
in VigChr II (1957), 226-45; ibid. 14 (1960), 129-53; E. Fascher, Der Logos-Christus
als gottlicher Lehrer bei Clemens von Alexandrien, Studien zum N T und zur Patristik,
TU 77 (Berlin 1961), 193-207; T. Finan, “Hellenism and Judeo-Christian History in
Clement of Alexandria” in ITQ 28 (1961), 83-114; G. W. Butterworth, Clement of
Alexandria with an English Translation (Loeb Classical Library) (London-New York
1919); Christ the Educator, FC 23 (1954).
O rigen
W orks in GCS, 12 volumes so far (Berlin 1899-1959), edited by P. Koetschau,

E. Klostermann, E. Preuschen, W. A. Baehrens, M. Rauer; Engl. ANF 10 (New York
1903), Commentary on John and Matthew; ACW 19 (1954): Exhortation to Martyrdom;
26 (1957): The Song of Songs; SourcesChr 7 (1944): Homilies on Genesis (French
translation only); 16 (1947): Homilies on Exodus (French translation only); 29 (1951):
Homilies on Numbers (French translation only); 37 (1954): Homilies on the Canticle
484
BIBLIOGRAPHY
of Canticles; 67 (I960):. Dialogue with Heracleides; 71 (1960): Homilies on Josue; 87

(1962): Homilies on Luke; Philocalia, ed. J. A. Robinson (Cambridge 1893); Hexapla
Fragments, ed. F. Field, 2 vols. (Oxford 1871-5); R. Cadiou, Commentaires inedits des
Psaumes (Paris 1935); J. Scherer, Le commentaire d’Origene sur Rom. 3:5-5:7 (Cairo
1955); idem, Extraits des livres 1 et II du Contra Celsum d’Origene (Cairo 1956).
German translation BKV (De orat.; exhort, mart.); 52-53 (Contra Celsum); Commentary
on St John’s Gospel (Selections), R. Gogler (Einsiedeln 1959). Selections from the works
as a whole, Hans Urs von Balthasar (Salzburg, 2nd ed. 1954).
G eneral Surveys: G. Bardy: DThC XI, 1489-1565; H. Koch: Pauly-Wissowa 18/1,

1036-56; F. H. Kettler: RGG, 3rd ed. IV, 1692-1701; E. de Faye, Origene, 3 vols.
(Paris 1923-30); R. Cadiou, Introduction au systeme d’Origene (Paris 1932); J. Dani&ou,
Origen (New York 1955), H. Musurillo, “The recent revival of Origen studies” in
ThSt 24 (1963), 250-63; J. Danielou, “Origene comme Ex^gete de la Bible” in Stud,
patrist. 1 (TU 63, Berlin 1957), 280-90, H. Crouzel, “Origene est-il un systematique?”
in BLE 60 (1959), 81-116.
Special Studies: W. Volker, Die Vollkommenheitslehre des Origenes (Tubingen 1931);

H. Koch, Pronoia und Paideusis (Leipzig 1932); A. Lieske, Die Theologie der Logos-
mystik hei Origenes (Munster 1938); C. Vagaggini, Maria nelle opere di Orig. (Rome
1942); S. Bettencourt, Doctrina ascetica Orig. (Rome 1945); E. Latko, Origen’s Concept
of Penance (Quebec 1949); H. de Lubac, Histoire et esprit. L’intelligence de I’Ecriture
d’apres Origene (Paris 1950); J. Danielou, From Shadows to Reality (London 1960);
F. Bertrand, Mystique de Jesus chez Origene (Paris 1951); R. P. C. Hanson, Origen’s
Doctrine on Tradition (London 1954); E. C. Jay, Origen’s Treatise on Prayer (London
1954); H. Crouzel, Theologie de I’image de Dieu chez Origene (Paris 1956); M. Harl,
Origene et la fonction revelatrice du verbe incarne (Paris 1958, with comprehensive bibli
ography); G. Teichweier, Die Siindenlehre des Origenes (Regensburg 1958); F. Faessler, Der
Hagiosbegriff bei Origenes (Fribourg 1958); R.P. C. Hanson, Allegory and Event. A Study
of the Sources and Significance of Origen’s Interpretation of Scripture (London 1959); H.
Crouzel, Origene et la philosophic (Paris, 2nd ed. 1962); B. Drewery, Origen and the
Doctrine of Grace (London 1960); P. Nemeshegyi, La paternite de Dieu chez Origene
(Tournai 1960); H. Crouzel, Origene et *la connaissance mystique’ (Bruges 1961); G.
Gruber, Zosi). Wesen, Stufen und Mitteilungen des Lebens bei Origenes (Munich
1961).
A rticles on the T heology of O rigen: Hans Urs von Balthasar, “Le mystere
d’Origene” in RSR 26 (1936), 513-62; 27 (1937), 38-64; H. Rahner, “Das Menschenbild
des Origenes” in Eranos 15 (1947), 197-248; J.-F. Bonnefoy, “Origene, theoricien de
la m£thode theologique” in Melanges Cavallera (Toulouse 1948), 87-145; K. Rahner,
“La doctrine d’Origene sur la penitence” in RSR 37 (1950), 47-97, 252-86, 422-56;
C. Vagaggini, “La natura della sintesi Origeniana e l’ortodossia e l’eterodossia della
dogmatica di Origene” in SC 82 (1954), 169-200; A. Mdhat, “Apocatastase” in VigChr
10 (1956), 196-214; G. Muller, “Origenes und die Apokatastasis” in ThZ 14 (1958),
161-90; E. von Ivdnka, “Der geistige Ort von IIepldpx<ov zwischen Neuplatonismus,
Gnosis und der christlichen Rechtglaubigkeit” in Scholastik 35 (1960), 481-502; V. Peri,
“I passi sulla trinit^ nelle omelie origeniane” in Studia Patristica 6 (TU 81 [1962]),
155-80; M. Simonetti, “Due note sull’angelologia origeniana” in Rivista di cultura
classica mediaevale 4 (1962), 165-208.
A rticles on O rigen’s Spiritual D octrine: K. Rahner “Les debuts d’une doctrine
des cinq sens spirituels chez Origene” in RAM 13 (1932), 113-145; J. Danielou, “Les
sources bibliques de la mystique d’Orig^ne” in RAM 23 (1947), 126-141; H. Jonas,
485
BIBLIOGRAPHY
“Die origenistische Spekulation und Mystik” in ThZ 5 (1949), 24-45, and in the
contrary sense J. Lebreton in AnBoll 67 (1949), 542-76; K. Baus, “Das Nachwirken
des Origenes in der Christusfrommigkeit des heiligen Ambrosius” in RQ 49 (1954),
21-55; H. Crouzel, Virginite et Manage selon Origene (Paris 1963).
D ionysius of A lexandria: Engl. ANF 6 (New York 1903); C. L. Feltoe, The Letters
and Other Remains (Cambridge 1904); P. S. Miller, Studies in Dionysius the Great
of Alexandria (diss. Erlangen 1933); H. G. Opitz, “Dionys und die Libyer” in Studies
K. Lake (London 1937), 41-53.
P eter of A lexandria: Fragments: PG 18, 449-522; POR I, 383-400; 3, 353-61. F. H.

Kettler in Pauly-Wissowa, 19/2, 1281-8; E. W. Kemp, “Bishops and Presbyters at
Alexandria” in JEH 6 (1955), 125-42.
G regory Thaumaturgus: Works: PG 10, 963-1232; Engl. ANF 6 (1903); “On Origen”
ed. by P. Koetschau (Leipzig 1894). L. Froidevaux, “Le symbole de s. Gregoire le
Thaumaturge” in RSR 19 (1929), 193-247; W. Telfer, “The Cultus of St Gregory Thauma
turgus” in HThR 29 (1936), 225-344; A. Soloview, “S. Gregoire, patron de Bosnie” in
Byz (B) 19 (1949), 263-79.
Methodius: Works, edited by N. Bonwetsch in GCS (Berlin 1917); De autexusio in

POR 22, 5; Engl. ACW 27 (Westminster 1958): The Symposium; ANF 6 (New York
1903).
J. Farges, Les idees morales et religieuses de Methode d’Olympe (Paris 1929); K.
Quensell, Die wahre Stellung und Tatigkeit des Methodius von Olymp (diss. Heidelberg
1952); V. Buchheit, Studien zu Methodius von Olymp (Berlin 1958); M. Pellegrino,
Uinno di simposio di s. Metodio (Turin 1958, with text and commentary).
Lucian and the School of A ntioch : G. Bardy, Recherches sur Lucien d'Antioche et
son ecole (Paris 1936); H. Dorries, “Zur Geschichte der Septuaginta” in ZN W 39 (1940),
57-110; A. Vaccari, “La ‘teoria’ della scuola antiochena” in Scritti di erudizione (Rome
1942), 101-42; G. Mercati, “Di alcune testimonianze antiche sulle cure bibliche di San
Luciano” in Bihlica 24 (1943), 1-17; F. Alvarez Seisdedos, “La teoria antioquena” in
EstB II (1952), 31-67; P. Ternant, “La Qecopla d’Antioche dans le cadre de l’Ecriture”
in Bihlica 34 (1953), 135-58, 354-83, 456-86.
20. The Development of Christian Literature in the West in the Third

Century
P. de Labriolle, History and Literature of Christianity (London-New York, 2nd ed. 1947).
E arly C hristian Latin : F. Stummer, Einfiihrung in die lateinische Bibel (Paderborn

1928); J. Schrijnen, Charakteristik des altchristlichen Latein (Nijmegen 1932); W. Siiss,
Studien zur lateinischen Bibel (Tartu 1932); M. A. Sainio, Semasiologische Unter-
suchungen iiber die Entstehung der christlichen Latinitdt (Hamburg 1940); M. Muller,
Der Vhergang von der griechischen zur lateinischen Sprache in der abendlandischen
Kirche von Hermas bis Novatian (Rome 1943); T. Klauser, “Der Obergang der
romischen Kirche von der griechischen zur lateinischen Liturgiesprache” in MiscMercati
I, 467-82; G. Bardy, La question des langucs dans Veglise ancienne, I (Paris 1948);
K. Baus in TThZ 61 (1952), 192-205; ibid. 68 (1959), 306-15 (with bibliography);
C. Mohrmann, “Les origines de la latinit£ chr^tienne k Rome” in VigChr 3 (1949),
67-106, 163-185. Further works of Mohrmann in the collected volumes: Le latin des
chretiens, I (Rome 1958); II (Rome 1961); Liturgical Latin (London 1959); E. Lofstedt,
486
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Late Latin (Oslo 1959); M. Dilworth, “The Morphology of Christian Latin” in The
Clergy Review 45 (1960) 88-97; E. Franceschini, “Latino dei Cristiani e Latino della
Chiesa” in Melanges C. Mohrmann (Utrecht 1963), 152-64.
M inucius Felix: Editions of the Works: J. P. Waltzing (Leipzig 1926); J. Martin
(Bonn 1930); G. Quispel (Leyden 1949); M. Pellegrino (Turin 1950); Engl. ANF 4
(New York 1905); FC 10 (New York 1950). H. J. Baylis, Minucius Felix and his
Place among the Early Fathers of the Latin Church (London 1928); R. Beutler,
Philosophic und Apologetik bei Minucius Felix (Diss. Marburg 1936); M. Pellegrino,
Studi sull’antica apologetica (Rome 1947). On the problem of the priority of Minucius
Felix or Tertullian, and on the language of the Octavius, see Quasten P, II, 160-2.
H ippolytus: Works, edited by G. N. Bonwetsch, H . Achelis, P. Wendland, A. Bauer,
R. Helm, in GCS 1 , 26, 46 (Berlin 1916-55); Engl. ANF 5 (New York 1903).
P. Nautin, Hippolyte, Contre les heresies (Paris 1949); M. Briere-L. Mari^s-B. C.
Mercier, Hippolyte, Les benedictions dTsaac, de Jacob et de Mo'ise, POR 27 (1954),
B. Botte, La tradition apostolique de s. Hippolyte. Essai de reconstruction (Munster 1963).
Separate editions: Commentary on Daniel ed. by G. Bardy in SourcesChr 14 (1947);
Traditio Apostolica, edited B. Botte in SourcesChr 11 (1946); Funk 2, 97-119; G. Dix
(London 1937); Ethiopian text edited by H. Duensing in AAG 32 (1946); Coptic text,
edited W. T ill-J . Leipoldt in TU 58 (1954). Literature on the most recent discussion
regarding the authorship of the Philosophoumena, the Chronicle and the De universo:
P. Nautin, Hippolyte et Josipe (Paris 1947); idem, Le dossier d’Hippolyte et de Meliton
(Paris 1953); idem, Lettres et ecrivains chretiens des IIe et IIP siecles (Paris 1961), 177 to
207; for a contrary view see G. Bardy, M. Richard, B.Capelle, B. Botte, G. Oggioni in MSR
1948, 1950-1, 1953-4; RThAM 1949-50, 1952; RSR 1947, 1954-5; RHE 1952; SC
1950-52; A. de Ales, La theologie de s. Hippolyte (Paris, 2nd ed. 1929); B. Capelle,
“Le logos, fils de Dieu, dans la theologie d’Hippolyte” in RThAM 9 (1937), 109-24;
K. Priimm, “Mysterion bei Hippolyt” in ZKTh 63 (1939), 207-25; E. Lengling, Die
Heilstat des Logos-Christos bei Hippolyt (Rome 1947); A. Hamel, Die Kirche bei
Hippolyt von Rom (Giitersloh 1952); J. Lecuyer, “Episcopat et presbyt^rat dans les
ecrits d’Hippolyte” in RSR 41 (1953), 30-50; A. Amore, “Note su s. Ippolito martire”
in RivAC 30 (1954), 63-97; C. Edsman, “A Typology of Baptism in Hippolytus” in
TU 64 (1957), 35-40; J.-M. Hanssens, La liturgie d’Hippolyte (Rome 1959), criticized
by T. G. Davies in JTS 11 (I960), 163-6; B. Botte in BThAM 8 (1960), 575-7; A.
Amore, “La personality dello scrittore Ippolito” in Antonianum 36 (1961), 3-28.
A. Walls, “The Latin Version of Hippolytus’ Apostolic Tradition” in TU 78 (1961),
155-62; G. Ogg, “Hippolytus and the Introduction of the Christian Era” in VigChr
16 (1962), 2-18; B. Botte, La tradition apostolique de S. Hippolyte (Munster 1963), on
this C. Lambert in RBen 74 (1964), 144-7.
N ovatian : N o collected edition exists. Works: De trinitate, ed. W. Y. Fausset (Cam
bridge 1909); with German translation, and commentary by H. Weyer (Diisseldorf
1962); Engl. ANF 5 (New York 1903); Concerning the Trinity, On the Jewish Meats,
De cibis iud. edited by A. Landgraf-C. Weymann in Archlat Lexikogr., 11 (1898 to
1900) 221-49; De sped., edited by A. Boulenger (Paris 1933), and see on this H. Koch
in Religio 12 (1936), 245-65. On language and style, A. Boulenger in Religio 13 (1937),
278-94; B. Melin, Studia in corpus Cyprianeum (Uppsala 1946).
A. d’Ales, Novatien (Paris 1924); M. Kriebel, Studien zur dlteren Entwicklung dcr
abendlandischen Trinitatslehre bei Tertullian und Novatian (diss. Marburg 1932);
M. Simonetti, “Alcune osservazioni sul De trinitate di Novaziano” in Studi in onore di
A. Monteverdi 2 (Modena 1959), 771-83. On the Logos doctrine: G. Keilbach in Bogo-
slovska Smotra 21 (1933), 193-224. On the communicatio idiomatum: R. Favre in BLE
487
BIBLIOGRAPHY
37 (1936), 130-45. On angel Christology: F. Scheidweiler in ZKG 66 (1955), 126-39,

and J. Barbel in TThZ 67 (1958) 96-105. On Novatian’s biography: F. J. Dolger in
AuC II (1930), 258-67; C. Mohlberg in ELit 51 (1937), 242-9; A. Ferrua in CivCatt
(1944) 4, 232-9.
T ertullian: Works in a collected edition, in CSEL, edited by A. Reifferscheid-G. Wis-
sowa, A. Kroymann, H. Hoppe, V. Bulhart, P. Borleffs 20 (1890), 47 (1906), 69 (1939),
70 (1942), 76 (1957); and in CChr 1 and 2 (1954). For editions of individual works see
Altaner 166-82, and CChr 1, xii- xiv. Engl. ANF 3 and 4 (1905); Treatises on
Marriage and Remarriage, ACW 13 (1951); The Treatise against Hermogenes 24 (1956);
Treatises on Penance, 28 (1959); apologetical works, FC 10 (1951); disciplinary, moral and
ascetical works, FC 40 (1959); On baptism, ed. E. Evans (London 1964); Against the Jews,
ed. H. Trankle (Wiesbaden 1964).
On Language and Style: T. W. Teuwen, Sprachlicher Bedeutungswandel bei Tertullian
(Paderborn 1926); E. Lofstedt, Zur Sprache Tertullians (Lund 1920); H. Hoppe, Beitrdge
zu Sprache und Kritik Tertullians (Lund 1932); A. d’Ales, “Tertullian helteniste” in
REG (1937), 320-62; H. Janssen, Kultur und Sprache bei Tertullian (Nijmegen 1938);
V. Morel, “Disciplina” in RHE 40 (1944-5), 5-46; J. H. Waszink, “Pompa diaboli” in
VigChr 1 (1947), 13-41; A. Kolping, Sacramentum Tertullianeum (Munster 1948);
C. Mohrmann, Tertull. Apologeticum (Utrecht 1951), lxxxvi- cii. A Lexicon Tertul
lianeum is in preparation by G. Claesson. P. Guilloux, “L’^volution religieuse de
Tertullien” in RHE 19 (1923), 5-24, 141-56; B. Nisters, Tertullian, seine Personlichkeit
und sein Schicksal (Munster 1950); M. B^venot, The Tradition of Manuscripts (Oxford
1961).
Tertullian’s Theology: A. d’Ales, La theologie de Tertullien (Paris 1905); R. E. Roberts,

The Theology of Tertullian (London 1924); J. Morgan, The Importance of Tertullian in
the Development of Christian Dogma (London 1928); J. Lortz, Tertullian als Apologet,
2 vols. (Paderborn 1927-8); C. Becker, Tertullians Apologeticum, Werden und Leistung
(Munich, 2nd ed. 1961); A. Quacquarelli, Tertullianus ad Scapulam (Rome 1957); G. Zim-
mermann, Die hermeneutischen Prinzipien Tertullians (diss. Leipzig 1937); J. Stirnimann,
Die Praescriptio Tertullians (Fribourg 1949); K. Adam, Der Kirchenbegriff Tertullians
(Paderborn 1907); H. Koch, Callist und Tertullian (Heidelberg 1920); W. Kohler, Omnis
ecclesia Petri propinqua (Heidelberg 1938); V. Morel, De ontwikkeling van de christl.
overlevering volgens Tertullian (Bruges 1946); T. Brandt, Tertullians Ethik (Giitersloh
1929); J. Buchner, Tert. de spectaculis, Kommentar (Wurzburg 1935); the same work
with commentary by E. Castorina (Florence 1961); J. Klein, Tertullians christliches Be-
wufitsein (Bonn 1940); K. Baus, Der Kranz in Antike und Christentum (Kommentar zu
De corona) (Bonn 1940); R. Franco, El final del reino de Cristo en Tertuliano (Granada
1955); G. Saflund, De pallio und die stilistische Entwicklung Tertullians (Lund 1955);
G. Calloni, Tertulliano, Vita, Op ere, Pensiero (Modena 1957).
Tertullian’s Doctrine of Penance: K. Rahner in ZKTh 60 (1936), 471-510; Festschrift

K. Adam (Diisseldorf 1952), 139-67; B. Poschmann, Poenitentia secunda (Bonn 1940),
270-348; H. Karpp, Schrift und Geist bei Tertullian (Giitersloh 1955); E. Langstadt,
“Tertullian’s Doctrine of Sin and the Power of Absolution in ‘de pudicitia*” in TU 64
(1957), 251-7; H. Fin£, Die Terminologie der Jenseitsvorstellungen bei Tertullian (Bonn
1958); S. Otto, Natura und dispositio, Untersuchungen zum Naturbegriff und zur Denk-
form Tertullians (Munich 1960); K. Wollfl, Das Heilswirken Gottes durch den Sohn
nach Tertullian, AnGr 112 (Rome 1960); V. D£carie, “Le paradoxe de Tertullien” in
VigChr 15 (1961), 23-31; W. Bender, Die Lehre iiber den Heiligen Geist bei Tertullian
(Munich 1961); E. Dekkers, Tertullian en de geschiedenis der liturgie (Brussels 1947);
488
BIBLIOGRAPHY
R. Cantalamessa, La cristologia di Tertulliano (Fribourg 1962); G. G. Blum, “Der

Begriff des Apostolischen im theologischen Denken Tertullians” in KuD 9 (1963) 102
to 121; G. C. Stead, “Divine Substance in Tertullian” in TThS 14 (1963), 46-66;
B. Piault, “Tertullien a-t-il subordinatien?” in RSPhTh 46 (1936), 181-204. On
De idol, and De cultu fern. see P. G. Van der Nat in VigChr 17 (1963), 71-84.
C yprian: Works, edited by W. Hartel in CSEL 3, 1-3 (1868-71); Tractatus, edited
S. Colombo (Turin 1935); Epistulae, edited L. Bayard, 2 vols. (Paris, 2nd ed. 1945);
Engl. Epistles and Treatises ANF 5 (1903); Treatises FC 36 (1958). On Textual Criticism
and Language: H. Koch, Cyprianische Untersuchungen (Bonn 1926); B. Melin, Studia in
corpus Cyprianeum (Uppsala 1946). The Vita of Cyprian by Pontius, and the Acta
proconsularia in CSEL 3, 3; the Vita separately, edited by M. Pellegrino (Alba 1955).
On the Vita see R. Reitzenstein in AGG (1919), 177-219; J. Martin in HJ (1919),
674-712; Delehaye PM 82-104.
Special Studies: P. Monceaux, S. Cyprien (Paris 1902 and, without notes, 1914); S. Co
lombo, "S. Cipriano, 1’uomo e lo scrittore” in Didaskaleion 6 (Turin 1928), 1-80;
A. A. Ehrhardt, “Cyprian, Father of Western Christianity” in ChQR 133 (1941),
178-96; E. Hummel, The Concept of Martyrdom according to St Cyprian (Washington
1946); J. Ludwig, Der heilige Martyrerbischof Cyprian von Karthago (Munich 1951);
M. Jourjon, Cyprien de Carthage (Paris 1957).
Cyprian’s Theology: A. d’AUs, La theologie de S. Cyprien (Paris 1922). Doctrine of

Baptism: G. Bardy in RSR 14 (1924), 255-72, 385-99; N. Zernov in ChQR 117 (1934),
304-36; A. Stenzel in Scholastik 30 (1955), 372-85. Doctrine of the Eucharist: P. Batiffol,
Ueucharistie (Paris, 9th ed. 1930), 226-47; G. Bardy in VS Suppl. 60 (1939), 87-119;
S. Salaville in EO 39 (1941-42), 268-82. On the question of penance: H. Koch,
Cyprianische Untersuchungen (Bonn 1926); M. C. Chartier in Antonianum 14 (1939),
17-42, 135-56; B. Posdimann, Poenitentia secunda (Bonn 1940), 368-424; K. Rahner in
ZKTh 74 (1952), 252-76, 381-438; M. Bevenot in ThSt 16 (1955), 175-273; C. Daly,
TU 64 (1957) 202-7; M. F. Wiles, “The Theological legacy of St Cyprian” in JEH 14
(1963), 139-49.
On Cyprian’s Conception of the Church: H. Koch, Cathedra Petri (Giessen 1930);
E. Altendorf, Einheit und Heiligkeit der Kirche (Berlin 1932), 44-116; B. Poschmann,
Ecclesia principalis (Breslau 1933); J. Plumpe, Mater ecclesia (Washington 1943), 81-108;
G. Bardy, La theologie de I’eglise, II (Paris 1947), 171-251; J. Ludwig, Die Primats-
worte in der altkirchlichen Exegese (Munster 1952); M. Bevenot in RSR 39-40 (1951-2),
397-415. G. Klein in ZKG 68 (1957), 48-68; J. Colson, Ueveque, lieu d’unite et de
charite chez saint Cyprien de Carthage (Paris 1961).
21. The First Christological and Trinitarian Controversies

J. Tixeront, History of Dogmas (St Louis-London 1928-32). A. von Harnack, History
of Dogma (New York 1958); R. Seeberg, Textbook of the History of Doctrines (Grand
Rapids 1956); F. Loofs, Leitfaden zum Studium der Dogmengeschichte, ed. K. Aland
(Tubingen, 6th ed. 1959); W. Koehler, Dogmengeschichte als Geschichte des christ-
lichen Selbstbewufitseins, I (Leipzig, 2nd ed. 1951); M. Werner, Die Entstehung des
christlichen Dogmas problemgeschichtlich dargestellt (Tubingen, 2nd ed. 1954), abridged
English edition: The Formation of Christian Dogma (London 1957); J. N. D. Kelly,
Early Christian Doctrines (London 1958); P. Meinhold, “Zur Grundlegung der Dogmen
geschichte” in Saeculum 10 (1959), 1-20; W. Bauer, Rechtgldubigkeit und Ketzerei im
dltesten Christentum (Tubingen 1934); J. Brosch, Das Wesen der Haresie (Bonn 1936);
489
BIBLIOGRAPHY
G. L. Prestige, God in Patristic Thought (London, 2nd ed. 1952); S. L. Greenslade,

Schism in the Early Church (London 1953); H. E. W. Turner, The Pattern of Christian
Truth (London 1954); W. Doskocil, Der Bann in der Urkirche (Munich 1958); G. L.
Prestige, Fathers and Heretics (London, 4th ed. 1958); J. Lebreton, Eng. tr. History of the
Dogma of the Trinity I (New York 1939); F. L. Dolger, “Sonne und Sonnenstrahl alsGleich-
nis der Logostheologie des christlichen Altertums” in AuC 1 (1929), 271-90; M. Kreibel,
Studien zur dltesten Entwicklung der abendlandischen Trinitdtslehre bei Tertullian und No-
vatian (diss. Marburg 1932); J. Barbel, Christos Angelos (Bonn 1941); E. Peterson, “Der
Monotheismus als politisches Problem” in Theologische Traktate (Munich 1951), 45-147;
A. Gilg, Weg und Bedeutung der altkirchlichen Christologie (Munich 1955); G. Kretsch-
mar, Studien zur friihchristlichen Trinitdtslehre (Tubingen 1956); W. Marcus, Der Sub-
ordinationismus als historiologisches Phdnomen (Munich 1963).
G. Bardy, “Monarchianisme” in DThC X, 2193-209; idem, “Les £coles romaines au
second siecle” in RHE 28 (1932), 501-32; G. La Piana, “The Roman Church at the End
of the Second Century” in HThR 18 (1925), 201-77; H. Stork, Die sogenannten Mel-
chisedekianer (Theodotianer) (Leipzig 1928); H. Schone, “Ein Einbruch der antiken
Logik in die altchristliche Theologie” in Pisciculi, Festschrift F. J. Dolger (Munster
1939), 252-65; V. Macchioro, L'eresi Noetiana (Naples 1921); A. d’Ales, “Le disaccord
de la foi populaire et de la theologie savante dans l’eglise du III* siecle” in RHE 19
(1923), 481-506, 20 (1924), 5-37. E. Hatch, The Influence of Greek Ideas on Chris
tianity (New York 1957); R. Williams, Guide to the Teachings of the Early Church
Fathers (Grand Rapids 1960); H. Hoppenbrouwers, Recherches sur la terminologie du
martyre de Tertullien a Lactance (Nijmegen 1961); B. Schultze, Teologia latina y teologia
oriental (Madrid 1961); J. Danielou, Message evangelique et culture hellenistique aux
IT et IIT siecles (Tournai 1961); R. Cantalamessa, “Prassea e l’eresia monarchiana” in
SC 90 (1962), 28-50.
On Z ephyrinus: A. von Harnack in SAB (1923), 51-7; B. Capelle in RBen 38 (1926),

321-30; E. Evans, Tertullian's Treatise against Praxeas (London 1948); A. d’Ales, La
theologie de s. Hippolyte (Paris, 2nd ed. 1929); B. Capelle, “Le logos, fils de Dieu, dans
la theologie d’Hippolyte” in RThAM 9 (1937), 109-24; C. L. Feltoe, The Letters of
Dionys of Alexandria (Cambridge 1904); K. Muller, “Dionys von Alexandrien im Kampf
mit den libyschen Sabellianern” in ZNW 24 (1925), 278-85; H. G. Opitz, “Dionys und
die Libyer” in Studies K. Lake (London 1937), 41-53.
On P aul of Samosata: F. Loofs, Paul von Samosata (Leipzig 1924), and cf. A. von
Harnack in SAB (1924), 130-51; £. Amann in RevSR 5 (1925), 328-12; H. de Ried-
matten, Les actes du proces de Paul de Samosate (Fribourg 1952), and on this, see
H. Scheidweiler in ZNW 46 (1955), 116-29; M. Richard, “Malchion et Paul de Samo
sate. Le t&noignage d’Eus^be de C£sar£e” in EThL 35 (1959), 325-38; J. M. Dalmau,
“El ‘homousios’ y el concilio de Antioquia de 268” in MCom 34-35 (1960) 323-40.
22. Munichaeism
S ources
P. Alfaric, Les ecritures manicheennes, 2 vols. (Paris 1918-19); A. Adam, Texte zum
Manichaismus, selected texts (KIT 175) (Berlin 1954), vi- ix.
1) Direct Sources
The Fragments of Turfan, published by F. W. Muller in SAB (1904-5); AAB (1904), II,
and (1912), V; by A. von Le Coq in SAB (1907; AAB (1910-11; 1919; 1922); by
490
BIBLIOGRAPHY
W. Bang in Museon 38 (1925), 1-55; by W. Bang and A. von Gabain in SAB (1929-30);
by F. C. Andreas and W. Henning in SAB (1932-34) and Bulletin of the School of
Oriental and African Studies 10-12 (1942-47-8). The Chinese Treatise, edited by
E. Chavannes and P. Pelliot in JA 1 (1911), 499-617. The Chinese Hymnarium of Lon
don, edited by E. Waldschmidt and W. Lentz in SAB (1933); the Latin Fragment of
Tebessa, edited by P. Alfaric in RHLR NS 6 (1920), 62-98.
The Coptic Texts from Fayyum: Homilies, edited by H. Polotzsky (Stuttgart 1934);
Cephalaia I, edited C. Schmidt (Stuttgart 1940); A Manichaean Psalm-Book, part II,
C. R. C. Allberry (Stuttgart 1938). A selection of direct sources may be found in
A. Adam, op.cit. nos. 1-34; there are a few texts also in G. Widengren, Iranische
Geisteswelt (Baden-Baden 1961).
2) Indirect Sources
Papyrus J. Rylands n. 469 in BJRL 3 (1938), 38-46; Alexander Lycop., Contra Mani-
chaei opiniones, edited A. Brinkmann (Leipzig 1895); Acta Archelai, edited C. H. Beeson
(Leipzig 1906); Serapion of Thmuis, Adversus Manichaeos, edited R. P. Casey (Cambridge,
Mass. 1931); Titus of Bostra, Contra Manichaeos, edited P. de Lagarde (Berlin 1895);
Epiphanius, Panarion, Haer. 66, edited K. Holl (Leipzig 1931); the anti-Manichaean
writings of Augustine in CSEL 25, edited J. Zycha (Vienna 1891); a selection is given
in A. Adam, op. cit. nos. 35-64. J. Ries, “La Bible chez Saint Augustin et chez les
Manicheens” in RevEAug 7 (1961), 231-43.
L iterature
Survey of researches: H. S. Nyberg in ZNW 34 (1935), 70-91, and J. Ries in EThL 33
(1957), 453-82, 35 (1959), 362-409. General studies: H. J. Polotzsky in Pauly-Wissowa
Suppl. VI (1935), 240-71; G. von Selle, “Der Manichaeismus” in Festschrift H. Kraus
(Kitzingen 1953), 422-35; C. Colpe in RGG, 3rd ed. IV, 714-22. H.-C. Puech, Le
Manicheisme. Son fondateur, sa doctrine (Paris 1949); H.-C. Puech, “Die Religion des
Mani” in Konig H, II (Freiburg, 2nd ed. 1961), 499-563; G. Widengren, Mani und der
Manichaismus (Stuttgart 1961); F. C. Burkitt, The Religion of the Manichees (Cam
bridge 1925); H. H. Schaeder, “Urform und Fortbildungen des manichaischen Systems”
in Vortrage Bibliothek Warburg 4 (Leipzig 1927), 65-157; H.-C. Puech, “Der Begriff der
Erlosung im Manichaismus” in Eranos 5 (1937), 183-286; T. Save-Soderbergh, Studies in
the Coptic Manichaean Psalm-Book (Uppsala 1949).
Spread and Influence of M anichaeism: E. de Stoop, Essai sur la diffusion du

manicheisme dans I’Empire romain (Ghent 1909); £. Chavannes-P. Pelliot in JA 2
(1913), 99-199, 261-394 (for China); W. Henning in ZDMG 90 (1936), 1-18; H. H.
Schaeder, “Manichaismus und spatantike Religion” in Zeitschrift MkRel 50 (1935),
65-85; H. H. Schaeder, “Der Manichaismus und sein Weg nach Osten” in Festschrift
F. Gogarten (Giessen 1948), 236-54; W. H. C. Frend, “The Gnostic-Manichaean Tradi
tion in Roman North Africa” in JEH 4 (1953), 13-26. Stephen Runciman, The Medie
val Manichee (Cambridge 1936); D. Obolensky, The Bogomils. A Study in Balkan Neo-
Manichaeism (Cambridge 1948).
M anichaeism and C hristianity: H. Leclercq, “Manicheisme” in DACE X, 1395-400;

G. Bardy in DThC IX, 1841-95; E. Waldschmidt-W. Lentz, “Die Stellung Jesu im
Manichaismus” in AAB (1926), 4; G. Messina, “La dottrina manichea e le origini del
cristianesimo” in Biblica 10 (1929), 313-31; F. J. Dolger, “Konstantin der Grofle und
der Manichaismus; Sonne und Christus im Manichaismus” in AuC II (1930), 301-14;
E. Rose, Christologie des Manichaismus (diss. Marburg 1942); A. Bohlig, Die Bibel bei
491
BIBLIOGRAPHY
den Manichaern (diss. Marburg 1947); G. Messina, Cristianesimo, Buddhismo, Mani-

cheismo nell’Asia antica (Rome 1947); O. Stegmiiller, “Das manichaische Fundamentum
in einem Sakramentar der friihen Karolingerzeit” in ZKTh 74 (1952), 450-63; A. Adam,
“Das Fortwirken des Manichaismus bei Augustin” in ZKG 69 (1958), 1-25; A. Bohlig,
“Christliche Wurzeln im Manichaismus” in BullSocArcheolcopte 15 (1960), 41-61.
23. Further Development of the Liturgy

S ources
C. del Grande, Liturgiae preces hymni christianorum e papyris collecti (Naples 1934);
J. Quasten, Monumenta eucharistica et liturgica vetustissima in FlorPatr 7 (1935);
A. Adam, “Zur Geschichte der orientalischen Taufe und Messe im 2. und 4. Jahrhundert”
in KIT 5 (3rd ed. 1960); Tertullian, De baptismo, edited J. W. P. Borleffs in SCpr 4
(1948); edited R. F. Refoule in SourcesChr 35 (1952); Hippolytus, Traditio apostolica,
edited G. Dix (London 1937); edited B. Botte in SourcesChr 11 (1946); Didascalia,
edited F. X. Funk, Didascalia et Constitutiones apostolorum, I (Paderborn 1905), 1-384
(Latin translation); edited H. Achelis-J. Fleming in TU 25, 2 (Leipzig 1904, German
translation). Asterius Sophistes, Commentarii in psalmos, edited M. Richard in Symbolae
Osloenses Suppl. 16 (Oslo 1956). H. Follieri, Initia Hymnorum Ecclesiae Graecae
(Vatican City 1960); P. Rado, Enchiridion Liturgicum, 2 vols. (Barcelona 1961).
L iterature
L. Duchesne, Christian Worship. Its Origin and Evolution (London, 5th ed. 1949);
A. Baumstark, Vom geschichtlichen Werden der Liturgie (Freiburg i. Br. 1923); F. L.
Dolger, Sol salutis (Munster, 2nd ed. 1925); J. H. Srawley, The Early History of the
Liturgy (Cambridge, 2nd ed.); H. Schmidt, Introductio in Liturgiam Occidentalem
(Freiburg i. Br. 1959); T. Klauser, Abendlandische Liturgiegeschichte (Bonn 1949);
A. Baumstark, Comparative Liturgy (Westminster 1958); B. Steuart, The Development
of Christian Worship (London 1953); A. A. King, The Liturgy of the Roman Church
(London 1957); idem, Liturgies of the Primatial Sees (London 1957); J. A. Jungmann,
The Early Liturgy to the Time of Gregory the Great (Notre Dame 1957); E. Werner,
The Sacred Bridge (New York 1959); A. Quacquarelli, Retorica e liturgia antenicena
(Rome 1960); B. Thompson, Liturgies of the Western Church (Cleveland-New York
1961); E. Dekkers, Tertullianus en de geschiedenis der liturgie (Brussels-Amsterdam
1947); J.-M. Hanssens, La liturgie d'Hippolyte (Rome 1959); W. Nagel, Geschichte
des christlichen Gottesdienstes (Berlin 1962); A. G. Martimort (ed.), Veglise en prieres:
Introduction a la liturgie (Paris 1961).
E aster and the D ispute about the D ate of E aster: H. Kellner, Heortologie
(Freiburg i. Br., 3rd ed. 1911); F. Cabrol, “Fites” in DACL V, 1403-14; A. Hollard,
Les origines des fetes chretiennes (Paris 1936); A. A. McArthur, The Evolution of
the Christian Year (London 1953); H. Leclercq, “Paques” in DACL XIII, 1521-74;
J. Jeremias, Utkcr/jx in ThW V, 895-903; O. Casel, “Art und Sinn der altesten
christlichen Osterfeier” in JLW 14 (1938), 1-78; J. Danillou, “Le symbolisme du
jour de Paques” in Dieu Vivant 18 (1951), 45-56; H. Vorgrimler, “War die altchristliche
Osternacht eine ununterbrochene Feier?” in ZKTh 74 (1952), 464-72; C. Mohrmann,
“Pascha, passio, transitus” in ELit 66 (1952), 37-52, Etudes sur le latin des chretiens
(Rome 1958), 205-22; A. W. Watts, Easter, its Story and Meaning (London 1959);
C. Marcora, La vigilia nella liturgia (sec. I-V I) (Milan 1954); A. Baumstark-O. Heiming,
492
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Nocturna Ians, Typen friihchristlicher Vigilfeier (Munster 1957); P. Jounel, “La nuit
pascale. Le dimanche et le temps de Paques: La tradition de l’^glise” in MD 67 (1961),
123-44, 163-82; B. Lohse, Das Passafest der Quartadecimaner (Gutersloh 1953) (pages
143-8 for the older literature on the subject); B. Botte, “La question pascale” in MD
41 (1955), 84-95; M. Shepherd, The Paschal Liturgy and the Apocalypse (Richmond
1960); M. Richard, “La question pascale au II6 sikle” in OrSyr 6 (1961), 179-212;
P. Nautin, Lettres et ecrivains chretiens au IP et IIP siecles (Paris 1961), 65-89;
C. Mohrmann, “Le conflit pascal au II® si^cle” in VigChr 16 (1962), 154-71; W. Cadman,
“The Christian Pascha and the Day of the Crucifixion” in TU 80 (1962), 8-16;
B. J. Van der Veken in SE 14 (1963), 5-33.
C atechumenate and Baptism: P. de Puniet, “Cat£chum£nat” in DACL II, 2579-90;

F. J. Dolger, “Tertullian und die Bluttaufe” in ^4«C II (1930), 117-41; H. Rahner,
“Pompa diaboli” in ZKTh 55 (1931), 239-73; B. Capelle, “L’introduction du
catichum^nat a Rome” in RThAM 5 (1933), 129-54; G. Bardy, “L’enseignement
religieux aux premiers siecles in RAP 66 (1938), 641-55; 67 (1938), 5-18; E. Dick, “Das
Pateninstitut im altchristlichen Katechumenat” in ZKTh 63 (1939), 1-49; B. Welte, Die
postbaptismale Salbung (Freiburg i. Br. 1939); O. Cullmann, Le bapteme des enfants (Neu-
chatel 1949); G.W. H. Lampe, The Seal of the Spirit. A Study in the Doctrine on Baptism
and Confirmation in the New Testament and the Fathers (London 1951); J. Lupi,
“Catechetical Instruction in the First Two Centuries” in Melita Theologica 9 (1956),
61-71; R. J. Zwi Werblowsky, “On the Baptismal Rite according to St Hippolytus” in
Studia Patristica II (Berlin 1957), 93-105; J. Fisher, “The Consecration of Water in
the Early Rite of Baptism” in TU 64 (1957), 41-46; A. Stenzel, Die Taufe, eine
genetische Erklarung der Taufliturgie (Innsbruck 1958); J. Jeremias, Infant Baptism
in the First Four Centuries (London 1960); T. Torrance, “The Origins of Baptism”
in Scottish Journal of Theology 11 (1958), 158-71; W. A. Be Vier, “Water Baptism in
the Ancient Church” in Bibliotheca sacra 116 (1959), 136-44, 230-40; J. A. Jungmann,
“Aufbauelemente im romischen Taufritus” in LJ 9 (1959), 1-15; E. Stommel,
“Christliche Taufriten und antike Taufsitten” in JAC 2 (1959), 5-14; K. Kirsten, Die
Taufabsage (Berlin 1960); A. Aland, Die Sauglingstaufe im Neuen Testament und in
der alten Kirche (Munich 1961); T. Ysebaert, Greek Baptismal Terminology (Nijmegen
1962); G. Kretschmer, “Baptismal Liturgy in Egypt” in JLH 8 (1963), 1-54.
T he Baptismal C reed: Texts, Denzinger 1-14; KIT 17-18 (2nd ed. 1931). Studies:
F. Kattenbusch, Das apostolische Symbolum, 2 vols. (Leipzig 1894-1900, reprinted
Darmstadt 1961); B. Dorholt, Das Taufsymbol in der alten Kirche (Paderborn 1898);
J. Brinktrine in ThQ 102 (1921), 156-90; J. Lebreton in RSR 20 (1930), 97-124;
F. J. Dolger in AuC IV (1933), 138-46; F. Badcock, The History of the Creeds (London
1938); O. Cullmann, The Earliest Christian Confessions (London 1949); J. H. Crehan,
Early Christian Baptism and the Creed (London 1950); E. Lichtenstein in ZKG 63
(1950), 1-74; B. Botte, Melanges J. de Ghellinck, I (Brussels-Paris 1951), 181-200;
T. Camelot in Lumiere et Vie, I (1952), 61-80.
E ucharist: G. Rauschen, Eucharistie und Buflsakrament in den ersten sechs Jahr-

hunderten (Freiburg i. Br., 2nd ed. 1910); T. Schermann, Agyptische Abendmahlsliturgien
(Paderborn 1912); J. A. Jungmann, Die Stellung Christi im liturgischen Gebet (Miinster
1925); P. Batiffol, UEucharistie (Paris, 7th ed. 1930); G. Dix, The Shape of the
Liturgy (London 1954); H. Lietzmann, Messe und Herrenmahl (Berlin, 2nd ed. 1955);
J. Betz, Die Eucharistie in der Zeit der griechischen Vdter, I (Freiburg i. Br. 1955);
J. A. Jungmann, The Mass of the Roman Rite, 2 vols. (New York 1951-5); W. Diirig,
Pietas liturgica (Regensburg 1958); L. C. Mohlberg, “Carmen Christo quasi deo” (on
493
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Pliny the Younger, Ep. 10, 96) in RivAC 14 (1937), 93-123; A. W. Ziegler, “Das
Brot von unsern Feldern, ein Beitrag zur Eucharistielehre des Irenaus” in Festschrift
zum Eucharistischen Kongrefi (Munich 1960), 21-43.
On Hippolytus’ liturgy: R. H. Connolly in JThS 39 (1938), 350-69; H. Engberding

in MiscMohlberg, I (1948), 47-71; E. Dekkers, “L’^glise ancienne a-t-elle connu la
Messe du soir?” in MiscMohlberg, I (1948), 231-57. R. Hanson, “The Liberty of the
Bishop to Improvise Prayer in the Eucharist” in VigChr 15 (1961), 173-6; G. Dollar,
“The Lord’s Supper in the Second Century” in Bibliotheca Sacra 117 (1960), 249-57;
A. Adam in TLZ 88 (1963), 9-20.
D iscipline of the Secret: E. Vacandard in DHGE III, 1497-513; O. Perler in RAC I,

667-79 (with very full bibliography); H. Clasen, Die Arkandisziplin in der alten
Kirche (diss. Heidelberg 1956); A. Stenzel, Die Taufe, eine genetische Erklarung der
Taufliturgie (Innsbruck 1958), 147-53.
T he Beginnings of C hristian A rt : In addition to the works listed above, page 454,

see: W. Neuss, Die Kunst der alten Christen (Augsburg 1926); D. T. Rice, The
Beginnings of Christian Art (London 1957); E. Syndikus, Die friihchristliche Kunst
(Aschaffenburg 1960); F. van der Meer, Early Christian Art (London 1961); J. Danielou,
Primitive Christian Symbols (Baltimore 1964).
J.-R. Laurin, “Le lieu du culte chretien d’apr&s les documents litt^raires primitifs” in
Studi sulla chiesa antica (Rome 1954), 39-57; C. Hopkins-P. V. C. Baur, Christian
Church at Dura-Europos (New Haven 1934); O. Eissfeldt, “Dura-Europos” in RAC IV,
362-70; E. Kirschbaum, The Roman Catacombs and their Martyrs (Milwaukee 1957);
J. Kollwitz, Das Christusbild des 3. Jahrhunderts (Munster 1953); W. Schone-J.
K ollw itz-H . von Campenhausen, Das Gottesbild im Abendland (Berlin 1957); T. Kemp,
Christus der Hirt (Rome 1943); A. M. Schneider, “Die altesten Denkmaler der romischen
Kirche” in Festschrift der Akademie der Wissenschaften, Gottingen, II (Gottingen 1951),
166-98. On the historical origins of ancient Christian art see T. Klauser, “Zur Ent-
stehungsgeschichte der altchristlichen Kunst” in JbAC I (1958), 20-51; 2 (1959), 115-45;
3 (1960), 112-33; 4 (1961), 128-45; 5 (1962), 113-24; P. Thoby, Histoire du Crucifix,
des origines au concile de Trente (Nantes 1959); A. von Gerkan in Mullus, Festschrift
T. Klauser (Munster 1964), 144-9 (Dura-Europos).
24. Spiritual Life and Morality in the Communities of the Third Century
Sources
F. Cabrol-H. Leclercq, Monumenta ecclesiae liturgica, vol. lb (Paris 1913); M.-J. Rouet
de Journel, Enchiridion asceticum (Freiburg i. Br., 5th ed. 1958); H. Koch, Quellen
zur Geschichte der Askese und des Monchtums (Tubingen 1933).
Translations: F. Cabrol, Le livre de la priere antique (Paris, 5th ed. 1913); G. Bardy,
La vie spirituelle d’apres les peres des trois premiers siecles (Paris 1935); L. A. Winters-
wyl, Gebete der Urkirche (Freiburg i. Br., 2nd ed. 1952); A. Hamman, Early Christian
Prayers (Chicago 1961); idem, Le pater explique par les peres (Paris 1952); idem,
Prieres eucharistiques des premiers siecles (Paris 1957); idem, Le bapteme d’apres les
peres de I’eglise (Paris 1962).
494
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Literature
F. Martinez, Uascetisme chretien pendant les trois premiers siecles (Paris 1913); H.
Strathmann, Geschichte der friihchristlichen Askese, I (Leipzig 1914); E. Buonaiuti, Le
origini dell'ascetismo cristiano (Pinerolo 1928); M. Viller-K. Rahner, Askese und
Mystik in der Vdterzeit (Freiburg i. Br. 1939); P. Pourrat, Christian Spirituality
(Westminster 1955); F. Cayr£, Spirituels et mystiques des premiers temps (Paris 1956);
L. Bouyer, The Spirituality of the New Testament and the Fathers (New York 1963);
W. Volker, Das Vollkommenheitsideal des Origenes (Tubingen 1931); J. Stelzenberger,
Die Beziehungen der friihchristlichen Sittenlehre zur Ethik der Stoa (Munich 1933);
J. Klein, Tertullians christliches Bewufhsein und sittliche Forderungen (Bonn 1941);
F. Bertrand, Mystique de Jesus chez Origene (Paris 1951); W. Volker, Der wahre
Gnostiker nach Clemens Alexandrinus (Berlin 1952).
B aptismal Spirituality: H. Windisch, Taufe und Siinde im altesten Christentum
(Tubingen 1908). A. von Harnack, Die Terminologie der Wiedergeburt (Leipzig 1920)
CTU 42, 2); H. Rahner, “Taufe und geistliches Leben bei Origenes” in 2AM 7 (1932),
205-23; P. Lundberg, La typologie baptismale de I’ancienne eglise (Uppsala 1942);
J. Daniilou, “Le symbolisme des rites baptismaux” in Dieu vivant 1 (1945), 17-43;
W. M. Bedard, The Symbolism of the Baptismal Font in Early Christian Thought
(Washington 1951); G. H. W. Lampe, The Seal of the Spirit. A Study in the Doctrine
of Baptism and Confirmation in the New Testament and the Fathers (London 1951);
T. Camelot, Spiritualite du bapteme (Paris 1960); T. Ysebaert, Greek Baptismal Termi
nology (Nijmegen 1962).
D evotion to M artyrdom: H. Delehaye, “Martyr et confesseur” in AnBoll 39 (1921),
20-49; H. Delehaye, Sanctus (Brussels 1927); O. Michel, Prophet und Martyrer (Giiters-
loh 1932); H. von Campenhausen, Die Idee des Martyriums in der alten Kirche
(Gottingen, 2nd ed. 1964); E. Peterson, 2euge der Wahrheit (Leipzig 1937); E. Gunter,
Map-ruc; (Giitersloh 1941); M. Lods, Confesseurs et martyrs, successeurs des prophetes
dans Veglise des trois premiers siecles (Neuchatel 1958); R. Krautheimer, “Mensa-
Coemeterium-Martyrium” in Cahiers Archeologiques 11 (I960), 93-119; N. Brox, Zeuge
und Martyrer, Untersuchungen zur friihchristlichen Zeugnis-Terminologie (Munich 1961);
H. A. M. Hoppenbrouwers, Recherches sur la terminologie du martyre de Tertullien a
Lactance (Nijmegen 1962); M. Pellegrino in RevSR 35 (1961), 151-75.
A scetism: H. Strathmann-P. Keseling, “Askese” II in RAC I, 758-95; M. Viller-
M. Olphe-Galliard, “Ascese, Asc^tisme” in DSAM I, 960-77; H. Leclercq, “C&iobitisme”
in DACL II, 3058-90; H. Chadwick “Enkrateia” in RAC V, 343-65; E. Peterson,
“Einige Beobachtungen zu den Anfangen der christlichen Askese” in Friihkirche, Juden-
tum und Gnosis (Freiburg i. Br. 1959), 209-22; P. de Labriolle, “Le ‘mariage spirituel’
dans l’antiquit^ chr&ienne” in RH 137 (1921), 204-25; J. Schmid, “Brautschaft, heilige”
in RAC II, 546-64; H. Koch, Virgines Christi (Leipzig 1907) (TU 31-2); K. Muller,
Die Forderung der Ehelosigkeit in der alten Kirche (Tubingen 1927); M. R. Nugent,
Portrait of the Consecrated Woman in Greek Christian Literature of the First Four
Centuries (Washington 1941); T. Camelot, Virgines Christi (Paris 1944); F. de B.
Vizmanos, Las virgenas cristianas en la Iglesia primitiva (Madrid 1949); K. Heussi,
Der Ursprung des Monchtums (Tubingen 1937); F. Quatember, Die christliche Lebens-
haltung des Klemens von Alexandrien nach seinem Padagogus (Vienna 1946). A. Voobus,
History of Asceticism in the Syrian Orient (Louvain 1960).
P rayer: E. von der Goltz, Das Gebet in der dltesten Christenheit (Leipzig 1901) (328-53,
texts of prayers); O. Dibelius, Das Vaterunser, Umrisse zu einer Geschichte des Gebetes
in der alten und mittleren Kirche (Giessen 1903); G. Walther, Untersuchungen zur
495
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Geschichte der griechischen Vaterunser-Exegese (Leipzig 1914) (TU 40, 3); F. Heiler,
Das Gebet (Munich, 5th ed. 1923); F. L. Dolger, Sol salutis, Gebet und Gesang im
christlichen Altertum (Munster, 2nd ed. 1925); J. A. Jungmann, Die Stellung Christi
im liturgischen Gebet (Munster, 2nd ed. 1962); F. Cabrol, The Prayer of the Early
Christians (London 1930); T. Ohm, Die Gebetsgebarden der Volker und das Christentum
(Leyden 1948); B. Fischer, Die Psalmenfrommigkeit der Martyrerkirche (Freiburg i. Br.
1949); K. Baus, “Das Gebet der Martyrer” in TThZ 62 (1953), 19-32; L. Vischer,
“Das Gebet der alten Kirche” in EvTh 17 (1957), 531-46; A. Stuiber, Refrigerium
interim (Bonn 1957); E. Peterson, “Das Kreuz und das Gebet nach Osten” in Friih-
kirche, Judentum und Gnosis (Freiburg i. Br. 1959), 15-35; A. Hamman, Early Christian
Prayers (Chicago 1961); J. P. T. Deroy, Bernardus en Origenes (Haarlem 1963).
Fasting : F. Cabrol, “Jeflnes” in DACE VII, 2481-501; J. Svennung, “Statio-Fasten”
in ZNW 32 (1933), 294-308; J. Schiimmer, Die altchristliche Fastenpraxis (Munster
1933); R. Arbesmann, “Fasting and Prophecy in Pagan and Christian Antiquity” in
Tr 7 (1949-51), 1-71; A. Guillaume, Jeune et charite dans Veglise latine des origines
au X IP siecle, en particulier chez Leon le Grand (Paris 1954); P. Gerlitz, Das Fasten
im religionsgeschichtlichen Vergleich (diss. Erlangen 1954); article by the same author
under the same title in ZRGG 7 (1955), 116-26; H. Musurillo, “The Problem of
Ascetical Fasting in the Greek Patristic Writers” in Tr 12 (1956), 1-64.
Works of C harity: H. Leclercq, “Charhi” in DACL III, 598-653; G. Marsot,

“Bienfaisance” in Diet, de Sociol. Ill, 864-83; G. Uhlhorn, Die christliche Liebestdtigkeit,
I (Stuttgart, 2nd ed. 1895, reprinted Darmstadt 1959); W. Liese, Geschichte der Caritas
(Freiburg i. Br. 1922); G. Meffert, Caritas und Krankenwesen bis zum Ausgang des
Mittelalters (Freiburg i. Br. 1927); H. Bolkestein, Wohltatigkeit und Armenpflege im
vorchristlichen Altertum (Utrecht 1939); F. Lovsky, Veglise et les malades depuis le IP
siecle jusqu’au debut du X X e siecle (Thonon Les Bains 1958); J. von dem Driesch,
Geschichte der Wohltatigkeit, volume I: Die Wohltatigkeit im Altertum (Paderborn
1959).
A gape: “Agape” in DACL I, 775-848; P. Batiffol, Etudes d’histoire et de theologie
positive (Paris, 7th ed. 1926); K. Volker, Mysterium und Agape (Gotha 1927); Bo
Reicke, Diakonie, Festfreude und Zelos in Verbindung mit der altchristlichen Agapenfeier
(Uppsala 1951); C. Donahue, “The Ayamr) of the Eremites of Scete” in Studia Monastica
1 (1959), 97-120; A. Armstrong, “Platonic eros and Christian agape” in Downside
Review 79 (1960-1), 105-2; J. Colson, Agape chez S. Ignace d’Antioche (Paris 1961);
C. Spicq, Agape in the New Testament (St Louis 1963).
Early C hristian M oral Life: A. Baudrillart, Moeurs pa'iennes, moeurs chretiennes,

2 vols. (Paris, 2nd ed. 1936); J. Leipoldt, Der soziale Gedanke in der altchristlichen
Kirche (Leipzig 1952); W. Schwer, “Almosen” in RAC I, 302-7; A. Kalsbach, “Armut
I” in RAC I, 702-5; A. Bigelmair, “Armut II”, ibid. 705-9; H. Greeven, Das Haupt-
problem der Sozialethik in der neueren Stoa und im Urchristentum (Giitersloh 1935);
H. Larmann, Christliche Wirtschaftsethik in der spdtrdmischen Antike (Berlin 1935);
H. Holzapfel, Die sittliche Wertung der korperlichen Arbeit im christlichen Altertum
(Wurzburg 1941); A. T. Geoghegan, The Attitude towards Labour in Early Christianity
and Ancient Culture (Washington 1945); J.-P. Brisson, “Les origines du danger social
dans l’Afrique chr£tienne du III* si&cle” in RSR 33 (1946), 280-316; M. Maeder, La
liberte et I’esclavage dans Veglise primitive (1951); G. Kehnscherper, Die Stellung der
Bibel und der alten Kirche zur Sklaverei (Halle 1957), and on this see ZKG 69 (1958),
328 ff.; E. K. Jonkers, “Das Verhalten der alten Kirche hinsichtlich der Ernennung zum
Priester” in Mnemosyne 10 (1942), 286-302; N . H. Baynes, “Idolatry in the Early
496
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Church" in Byzantine Studies (London 1955); J. Alameda, Como era la vida de los
primeros cristianos (Bilbao 1957).
M arriage and Family: H. Preisker, Christentum und Ehe in den ersten drei Jahr-
hunderten (Berlin 1928); J. Kohne, Die Ehen zwischen Christen und Heiden in den
ersten christlichen Jahrhunderten (Paderborn 1931); F. Blanke-F. J. Leenhard, Die
Stellung der Frau im Neuen Testament und in der alten Kirche (Zurich 1949); J. Lei-
poldt, Die Frau in der Antike und im Urchristentum (Giitersloh 1962); J. Mayer,
Monumenta de viduis diaconissis virginibusque tractantia (Bonn 1938) (FlorPatr 42);
A. Kalsbach, Die altkirchliche Einrichtung der Diakonissen (Freiburg i. Br. 1926);
A. Kalsbach, “Diakonisse” in RAC III, 917-28; C. C. Ryrie, The Place of Women in
the Church (New York 1958); J. Dani&ou, “Le minist^re des femmes dans l’^glise
ancienne” in MD 61 (1960), 70-96.
C hurch and C ivilization and C ulture; C hurch and State: J. H. Waszink, Het
oudste Christendom en de antieke Cultuur, 2 vols. (Haarlem 1951); C. J. Cadoux, The
Early Church and the World (Edinburgh, 2nd ed. 1955); O. Cullmann, “Early Chris
tianity and Civilization” in The Early Church (London 1956), 195-209; C. N. Cochrane,
Christianity and Classical Culture (New York, 3rd 1957); W. Krause, Die Stellung der
fruhchristlichen Autoren zur heidnischen Literatur (Vienna 1958); W. Durant, Caesar
and Christ (New York 1944). A. Decker, Kenntnis und Pflege des Korpers bei Klemens
von Alexandrien (Innsbruck 1936); K. Baus, Der Kranz in Antike und Christentum,
eine religionsgeschichtliche Untersuchung mit besonderer Beriicksichtigung Tertullians
(Bonn 1940); C. Andresen, “Altchristliche Kritik am Tanz, ein Ausschnitt aus dem
Kampf der alten Kirche gegen heidnische Sitte” in ZKG 72 (1961), 217-62; W. Bieder,
Ekklesia und Polis im Neuen Testament und in der alten Kirche (diss. Basle) (Zurich
1941); R. Petry, Christian Eschatology and Social Thought (Nashville 1956); F. Strat-
mann, Die Heiligen und der Staat, II (Frankfurt a. M. 1949); J. Ferguson, “The Nature
of Early Christian Pacifism” in The Hibbert Journal 55 (1956-7), 340-9; E. Peterson,
“Der Monotheismus als politisches Problem” in Theologische Traktate (Munich 1961),
45-147. A. von Harnack, Militia Christi (Tubingen 1905, reprinted Darmstadt 1963);
R. H. Bainton, “The Early Church and War” in HThR 39 (1946), 189-212; E. A. Ryan,
“The Rejection of Military Service by the Early Christians” in ThSt 13 (1952), 1-32;
H. Karpp, “Die Stellung der alten Kirche zu Krieg und Kriegsdienst” in EvTh 17 (1957),
496-515; H. von Campenhausen, “Der Kriegsdienst der Christen in der Kirche des
Altertums” in Tradition und Leben (Tubingen 1960), 203-15; J. Leipoldt, Griechische
Philosophic und friihchristliche Aszese (Berlin 1961); W. Jaeger, Early Christianity and
Greek Paideia (Cambridge, Mass. 1961); A. Wifstrand, Ueglise ancienne et la culture
grecque (Paris 1942); S. Perowne, Caesars and Saints. The Evolution of the Christian
State a .d . 180-313 (London 1962); J.-M. Hornus, Politische Entscheidung in der alten
Kirche (Munich 1963).
25. The Holiness of the Christian and his Church

G eneral Surveys: £. Amann, “Penitence” in DThC XII, 748-845; B. Poschmann,
“Bufie, Bufikleid, Bufistufen” in RAC II, 805-12, 813-16; K. Rahner, “Bufidisziplin” in
LThK II, 805-9; W. Teller, The Forgiveness of Sins (Philadelphia 1960); P. Palmer,
Sacraments and Forgiveness (London 1960); B. Poschmann, Penance and the Anointing
of the Sick (Freiburg-London-New York-Montreal 1963).
S pecial Studies of P enitential D iscipline: H. Windisch, Taufe und Siinde im altesten
Christentum bis auf Origenes (Tubingen 1908); P. Batiffol, “Les origines de la penitence”
in Etudes d’histoire et de theologie positive (Paris 1902), 45-302; G. Rauschen,
497
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Eucharistie und Bufisakrament (Freiburg i. Br., 2nd ed. 1910); K. Adam, Das sogenannte
Bufiedikt des Kallistus (Munich 1917); J. Hoh, Die kircbliche Bufie im 2. Jahrhundert
(Breslau 1932); P. Galtier, Ueglise et la remission des peches aux premiers siecles
(Paris 1932); B. Poschmann, Poenitentia secunda (Bonn 1940); B. Poschmann, “Die alt-
christliche Bufie” in HDG IV/3 (Freiburg i. Br. 1951), 18-41; P. Galtier, Aux or'tgines
du sacrement de la penitence (Rome 1951) (AnGr 54); H. von Campenhausen, Kirch-
liches Amt und geistliche Vollmacht in den drei ersten Jahrhunderten (Tubingen 1953);
J. Grotz, Die Entwicklung des Buflstufenwesens in der vornicanischen Kirche (Frei
burg i. Br. 1955).
O ther Special Studies: P. Galtier, “A propos de la penitence primitive. Methodes et
conclusions” in RHE 30 (1934), 517-57, 797-846; H. von Campenhausen, “Die Schliissel-
gewalt der Kirche” in EvTh 4 (1937), 143-69; R. Joly, “La doctrine penitentielle du
Pasteur d’Hermas et l’ex^gese r<kente” in RHR 147 (1955), 32-49; K. Rahner, “Die
Bufilehre im Hirten des Hermas” in ZKTh 77 (1955), 385-431; K. Rahner, “Die Siinden-
vergebung nach der Taufe in der Regula fidei des Irenaeus“ in ZKTh 70 (1948), 450-5;
K. Rahner, “Zur Theologie der Bufie bei Tertullian” in Festschrift K. Adam (Diisseldorf
1952), 139-67; H. Koch, “Die Bufifrage bei Cyprian” in Cyprianische Untersuchungen
(Bonn 1926), 211-85; P. Chartier, “La discipline penitentielle d’apres les Merits de s.
Cyprien” in Antonianum 6 (1939), 17-42, 135-56; K. Rahner, “Die Bufilehre des heiligen
Cyprian” in ZKTh 74 (1952), 257-76, 381-438; M. B^venot, “The Sacrament of Penance
and St Cyprian’s De lapsis” in ThSt 16 (1955), 175-213; S. Hiibner, “Kirchenbufie und
Exkommunikation bei Cyprian” in ZKTh 84 (1962), 49-84, 171-215; A. M£hat, “ ‘Peni
tence seconde’ et pech£ involontaire chez Clement d’Alexandrie” in VigChr 8 (1954),
225-33; H. Karpp, “Die Bufilehre des Klemens von Alexandrien” in ZN W 43 (1950-1),
224-42; K. Rahner, “La doctrine d’Origene sur la penitence” in RSR 37 (1950), 47-97,
252-86, 422-56; K. Rahner, “Bufilehre und Bufipraxis der Didascalia apostolorum” in
ZKTh 72 (1950), 257-81. A. d’Ales, Novatien (Paris 1924); C. B. Daly, “Novatian and
Tertullian. A Chapter in the History of Puritanism” in IThQ 19 (1952), 33—43. E. H.
Rottgers, “Marcellinus-Marcellus. Zur Papstgeschichte der diokletianischen Verfolgungs-
zeit” in ZKTh 78 (1956), 385-420; A. Amore, “£ esistito Papa Marcello?” in Antonianum
33 (1958), 57-75.
26. The Development of the Church3s Constitution in the Third Century
G eneral T reatment
See the bibliography to Chapter 10 above, as well as: K. Muller, “Die Kirchenverfassung
im christlichen Altertum” in RGG 2nd ed. Ill, 986-88; K. Muller, Aus der akademischen
Arbeit (Tubingen 1930), 101-34; A. Adam, “Kirchenverfassung II” in RGG 3rd ed. Ill,
1533-945; H. Lietzmann, “Zur altchristlichen Verfassungsgeschichte” in Kleine Schriften,
I (Berlin 1958), 141-85; E. Rosser, Gottliches und menschliches, unveranderliches und
veranderliches Kirchenrecht von der Entstehung der Kirche bis zur Mitte des 9. Jahr-
hunderts (Paderborn 1934); G. Kruger, Die Rechtsstellung der vorkonstantinischen Kir-
chen (Stuttgart 1935, reprinted Amsterdam 1961); G. Bardy, La theologie de I’Eglise de
s. Irenee au concile de Nicee (Paris 1947); E. Kohlmeyer, “Charisma oder Recht? Vom
Wesen des altesten Kirchenrechts” in ZSavRGkan 38 (1952), 1-36; H. Chadwick, The
Circle and the Ellipse. Rival Concepts of Authority in the Early Church (Oxford 1959).
498
BIBLIOGRAPHY
T he C lergy
M. Andrieu, Les ordres mineurs (Paris 1925); H. Leclercq, “C£libat” in DACL II,
2802-32; G. Dix, “The Ministry of the Early Church” in K. E. Kirk, The Apostolic
Ministry (London, 2nd ed. 1947), 183-303; E. Lanne, "Le minist&re apostolique dans
l’oeuvre de s. Ir£n£e” in Irenikon 25 (1952), 113-41; J. Lecuyer, “Episcopat et presbyt^rat
dans les Merits d’Hippolyte de Rome” in RSR 41 (1953), 30-50; A. Adam, “Die Ent-
stehung des Bischofsamtes” in Wort und Dienst (Bethel) 5 (1957), 1-16; J. Colson, La
fonction diaconale aux origines de VEglise (Bruges-Paris 1960); H. von Campenhausen,
“Die Anfange des Priesterbegriffes in der alten Kirche” in Tradition und Leben (Tubin
gen 1960), 272-89; L. Ryan, “Patristic Teaching on the Priesthood of the Faithful” in
IThQ 29 (1962), 25-51; J. G. Davies, “Deacons, Deaconesses, and Minor Orders in the
Patristic Period” in JEH 14 (1963), 1-15; O. Perler, “L’^veque, repr&entant du Christ”
in Uepiscopat et VEglise universelle (Paris 1962), 31-66; J. Colson, Uepiscopat catho-
lique. Collegialite et primaute dans les trois premiers siecles (Paris 1963).
L ocal C hurches and Synods

P. de Labriolle, “Paroecia” in RSR 18 (1928), 60-72; K. Muller, “Rom, Arelate und
spanische Kirchen um 250” in ZNW 28 (1929), 296-305; J. P. Kirsch, Die romischen
Titelkirchen im Altertum (Paderborn 1918); F. Lanzoni, “I titoli presbiterali di Roma
antica” in RivAC 2 (1925), 195-257; E. Kirsten, “Chorbischof” in RAC II, 1105-14;
P. Batiffol, “Le reglement des premiers conciles africains et le reglement du s£nat romain”
in Bulletin d’ancienne lit. et archeol. chretiennes 3 (Paris 1913), 3-19; G. Roethe, Zur
Geschichte der romischen Synoden im 3. und 4. Jahrhundert (Stuttgart 1937); W. de
Vries, “Der Episkopat auf den Synoden von Nicaa” in Theologisch-praktische Quartal-
schrift (1963), 263-77.
T he R o m a n P r i ma c y
H. J. Vogels, Textus antenicaeni ad primatum Romanum spectantes (Bonn 1937)
(FlorPatr 9); K. Adam, “Neue Untersuchungen iiber die Urspriinge der kirchlichen
Primatslehre” in ThQ 109 (1928), 161-256, and Gesammelte Aufsatze zur Dogmen-
geschichte (Augsburg 1936), 123-85; K. J. Kidd, The Roman Primacy to a .d . 461 (Lon
don 1936); P. Batiffol, Cathedra Petri (Paris 1938); E. Stauffer, “Zur Vor- und Friih-
geschichte des Primats” in ZKG 61 (1943-44), 3-34; L. Herding, “Communio und
Primat” in Misc. hist, pontif. 7 (1943), 1-48, and also Una Sancta 17 (1962), 91-125;
A. Rimoldi, Vapostolo San Pietro fondamento della Chiesa . . . dalle origini al Concilio
di Calcedonia (Rome 1958).
H egesippus: T. Klauser, “Die Anfange der romischen Bischofsliste” in BZThS 8 (1931),

193-213; H. von Campenhausen, “Lehrerreihen und Bischofsreihen im 2. Jh.” in Fest
schrift E. Lohmeyer (Stuttgart 1951); N. Hydahl, “Hegesipps Hypomnemata” in StTh 14
(1960), 70-113.
I renaeus: L. Spikowski, La doctrine de Veglise dans s. Irenee (Strasbourg 1926) (lists

older literature on the subject); H. Holstein, “Propter potentiorem principalitatem” in
RSR 36 (1949), 122-35; R. Jacquin, “Ab his qui sunt undique dans s. Ir£n£e” in
RevSR 24 (1950), 72-87; D. J. Unger, “St Irenaeus and the Roman Primacy” in ThSt
13 (1952), 359-418; P. Nautin, “I r ^ e , Adv. Haer. I ll 3, 2. Eglise de Rome ou Eglise
universelle?” in RHR 151 (1957), 37-78, and on this B. Botte in Irenikon 30 (1957),
156-63.
499
BIBLIOGRAPHY
C yprian and the Controversy on H eretical Baptism: G. Bardy, “Cyprien” in DHGE

XIII, 1152-54, 1158-60; A. d’AUs, La theologie de s. Cyprien (Paris 1922), 380-8;
H. Koch, Cathedra Petri, Neue Untersuchungen iiber die Anfange der Primatslehre
(Giessen 1930), and on this K. Adam, Gesammelte Aufsatze zur Dogmengeschichte
(Augsburg 1936), 18695); B. Poschmann, Ecclesia principalis (Breslau 1933); T. Zapelena,
“Petrus origo unitatis apud s. Cyprianum” in Gr 15 (1934), 500-23; F. de St Palais
d’Aussac, La reconciliation des heretiques dans I’eglise latine (Paris 1943); B. Neun-
heuser in HDG IV/2 (Freiburg i. Br. 1956), 44-47; G. Klein, “Die hermeneutische
Struktur des Kirchengedankens bei Cyprian” in ZKG 68 (1957), 48-68; P. Camelot,
“Saint Cyprien et la Primaut£” in Istina 4 (1947) 421-34; G. Mongelli, “La chiesa di
Cartagine contro Roma durante l’episcopato di s. Cipriano (249-258)” in MF 59 (1959),
104-201.
D evotion to the C hurch in the T hird C entury: J. C. Plumpe, Mater Ecclesia.
An Inquiry into the Concept of the Church as Mother in Early Christianity (Washing
ton 1943); H. Rahner, Mater Ecclesia. Lobpreis der Kirche aus dem 1. Jahrtausend
(Einsiedeln 1944); J. Dani&ou, “Die Kirche, Pflanzung des Vaters. Zur Kirchen-
frommigkeit der friihen Christenheit” in Sentire ecclesiam, Festschrift H. Rahner (Frei
burg i. Br. 1961), 92-103; L. Bouyer, “Zur Kirchenfrommigkeit der griechischen Vater”,
ibid. 104-12; H. Rahner, “Navicula Petri” in ZKTh 69 (1947), 1-35.
27. The Extent of Christianity prior to the Diocletian Persecution

G eneral T reatment: In addition to the works given in the bibliography to Chapter 17
above, the following may be consulted: A. Bigelmair, “Der Missionsgedanke bei den
vorkonstantinischen Vatern” in ZMR 4 (1914), 264—77; L. Herding, “Die Zahl der
Christen zu Beginn des 4. Jahrhunderts” in ZKTh 62 (1934), 243-53; K. Priimm, Christen-
tum als Neuheitserlebnis (Freiburg i. Br. 1939); J. Zeiller, “Observations sur la diffusion
du christianisme en Occident” in .<477; 5 (1944), 193-208; F. Altheim, Die Krise der
alten Welt, III: Gotter und Kaiser (Berlin 1943); Niedergang der alten Welt, II (Frank
furt a. M. 1952), 198-383; A. Ehrhardt, “The Adoption of Christianity in the Roman
Empire” in BJRL 45 (1962-3), 97-114.
E gypt : J. Faivre, “Alexandrie” in DHGE II, 289-369; H. Leclercq, “Egypte” in DACL
IV, 2457-571; A. Heckel, Die Kirche von Agypten bis zur Zeit des Nicdnums (diss.
Strasbourg 1918); H. Delehaye, Les martyrs d'Egypte (Brussels 1923); G. Bardy, “Les
premiers temps du christianisme de langue copte en Egypte” in Memorial Lagrange
(Paris 1940), 203-16; J. M. Creed-De Lacy O’Leary, The Legacy of Egypt (London
1942), 300-31; R. Remondon, “L’Egypte de la supreme resistance au christianisme” in
BIFAO 51 (1952), 63-78.
A rabia: R. Aigrain, “Arabie” in DHGE III, 1158-339; H. Charles, Le christianisme des
Arabes nomades (Paris 1936); P. K. Hitti, History of the Arabs (London-New York
1940); D. S. Attema, Het oudste Christendom en Zuid-Arabie (Amsterdam 1949);
G. Kretzschmer, “Origenes und die Araber” in ZThK 50 (1953), 250-79.
P alestine: R. Devreesse, “Les anciens ^veches de Palestine” in Memorial Lagrange
(Paris 1940), 217-27.
Syria : E. R. Hayes, Uecole d'Edesse (Paris 1930); P. V. C. Baur, Christian Church at
Doura-Europos (New Haven 1934); G. Watzinger, “Die Christen in Dura” in ThBl 17
(1938), 113-19; O. Eissfeldt, “Dura-Europos” in RAC IV, 362-70; A. F. J. Klijn, Edessa.
Het Oudste Christendum in Syrie (Baam 1963).
P ersia: J. Labourt, L? christianisme dans I’empire perse (224-632) (Paris 1904); A. All-
500
BIBLIOGRAPHY
geier, “Untersuchungen zur altesten Kirchengeschichte von Persien” in Katholik 98, II

(1918), 224-41, 289-300; K. Liibeck, Die altpersische Missionskirche (Aachen 1919).
I ndia : M. D ’Sa, History of the Catholic Church in India (Bombay, 2nd ed. 1924);
A. Vath, Der heilige Thomas, der Apostel Indiens (Aachen, 2nd ed. 1925); A. Mingana,
"The Early Spread of Christianity in India” in BJRL 10 (1926), 435-95; L. W. Brown,
The Indian Christians of St Thomas (Cambridge 1955); E. Tisserant, "Nestorienne” and
"Syro-Malabare (Eglise)” in DThC 11, 157-66; 14, 3089-93.
A rmenia: G. Klinge, "Armenien” in RAC I, 678-89; S. Weber, Die katholische Kirche
in Armenien (Freiburg i. Br. 1903); F. Tournebize, Histoire politique et religieuse de
TArmenie (Paris 1910); L. Arpee, A History of Armenian Christianity (New York
1946); M. Ormanian, The Church of Armenia (London 1955).
G eorgia: K. Liibeck, Georgien und die katholische Kirche (Aachen 1918); K. Kekelidse,
Die Bekehrung Georgiens (Leipzig 1928); W. Allen, A History of the Georgian People
(London 1932); P. Peeters, “Les debuts du christianisme en Georgie d’apres les sources
hagiographiques” in AnBoll 50 (1932), 5-58.
B alkans: A. Lippold-E. Kirsten, “Donauprovinzen” in RAC IV, 166-89; J. Zeiller,
Les origines chretiennes dans les provinces danubiennes (Paris 1918); R. Noll, Friihes
Christentum in Osterreich (Vienna 1954); I. Zibermayr, Noricum, Bayern und Oster-
reich (Horn, 2nd ed. 1956).
I taly: H. Leclercq, "Italie” in DACL VII, 1612-841; ECatt VII, 386-9; F. Lanzoni,
Le diocesi d’ltalia dalle origini al principio del sec. VII (Faenza, 2nd ed. 1927); J. P.
Kirsch, Die romischen Titelkirchen im Altertum (Paderborn 1918); U. Stutz, "Die
romischen Titelkirchen und die Verfassung der stadtromischen Kirche unter Papst Fa
bian” in ZSavRGkan 40 (1920), 288-312; E. Josi, "Titoli della chiesa Romana” in
ECatt XII, 152-8; P. Styger, Die romischen Katakomben (Berlin 1933); H. Leclercq,
"Ravenne” in DACL XIV, 2070-146; M. Mazzotti, "Ravenna” in ECatt X, 558-73.
A frica: J. Mesnage, Le christianisme en Afrique. Origine, developpement, extension
(Paris 1914); J. P. Brisson, Gloire et misere de VAfrique chretienne (Paris 1949), 32-141;
A. Berthier-F. Logeart-M. Martin, Les vestiges du christianisme antique dans la
Numidie centrale (Paris 1951); C. Courtois, Les Vandales et VAfrique (Paris 1955);
C. Speel, “The Disappearance of Christianity from North Africa in the Wake of the
Rise of Islam” in CH 29 (I960), 379-97; W. Telfer, "The Origins of Christianity in
Africa” in Stud, patrist. 4 (Berlin 1961), 512-17; W. H. C. Frend in JThS 12 (1961),
280-4.
Spain : H. Leclercq, VEspagne chretienne (Paris, 2nd ed. 1916); Garcia-Villada, I
(Madrid 1929); S. McKenna, Paganism and Pagan Survivals in Spain up to the Fall of
the Visogothic Kingdom (Washington 1938); A. Ferrua, "Agli albori del cristianesimo
nella Spagna” in CivCatt (1940), IV, 421-31; T. Fernandez Alonso, “Espagne” in DHGE
15 (1963), 892-901 (bibl.).
G aul and Belgium: L. Duchesne, Fastes episcopaux de I’ancienne Gaule, I (Paris, 2nd
ed. 1907); E. Griffe, La Gaule chretienne, I (Paris 1949), 51-116; M. Schuler, "t)ber die
Anfange des Christentums in Gallien und Trier” in Trierer Zeitschrift 6 (1931), 80-103;
A. de Moreau, Histoire de VEglise en Belgique, I (Brussels, 2nd ed. 1947).
G ermany: Hauck, I (4th ed. 1922), 3-33; W. Neuss, Die Anfange des Christentums im
Rheinland (Bonn, 2nd ed. 1933); Tiichle, I (1950); Bauerreiss, I (2nd ed. 1958); H. Leh-
ner-W . Bader, "Baugeschichtliche Untersuchungen am Bonner Munster” in Bonner Jahr-
biicher 136-7 (1932), 1-216; W. Neuss, “Eine altchristliche Martyrerkirche unter dem
501
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Chor der St.-Viktor-Kirche in Xanten” in RQ 42 (1934), 177-82; H. Leclercq, “Xanten

et Bonn” in DACL XV, 3271-6 (with bibliography).
Britain : E. Kirsten in RAC II, 603 ff.; J. Chevalier, “Angleterre” in DHGE III, 145-9;
L. Gougaud, Christianity in Celtic Lands (London 1932); G. Sheldon, The Transition
from Roman Britain to Christian England (London 1932); W. Levison, “St Alban and
St Alban’s” in Antiquity 15 (1941), 337-59; N. Chadwick, Studies in the Early British
Church (Cambridge 1958).
S E C T I O N TWO
The Last Attack of Paganism and the Final Victory of the Church
28. The Intellectual Struggle against Christianity at the End of the Third
Century
S ources
Porphyry, Ilepi Xptemavoiv Fragments, edited A. von Harnack in AAB 1916/1 (97
fragments); addenda in SAB 1921-14 (five additional fragments); P. Nautin, “Trois
autres fragments du livre de Porphyre ‘Contre les chretiens’” in RB 57 (1950), 409-16;
Eusebius, Contra Hieroclem, PG 22, 795-868; also in C. L. Kayser, Philostratus opera,
I (Leipzig 1870), 369-413, reprinted, F. C. Conybeare, Philostratus, The Life of Apol
lonius of Tyana (London 1912).
Literature
See the works listed in Chapter 13 by J. Geffcken, P. de Labriolle and W. Nestle, and
in addition the following:
On neo-Platonism in general, Ueherweg I, 590-612. On Porphyry, Ueberweg I, 609-12
and 190* f. Articles on Porphyry by L. Vaganay in DThC XII, 2555-90, and R. Beut-
ler in Pauly-W issowa XXII, 278-313; J. Bidez, Vie de Porphyre (Ghent 1913); A. von
Harnack, “Griechische und Christliche Frommigkeit am Ende des 3. Jahrhunderts”, in
Aus der Friedens- und Kriegszeit (Berlin 1916), 47-65; A. B. Hulen, Porphyry's Work
against the Christians (New Haven 1933); W. Theiler, Porphyrias und Augustin (Halle
1933); H. O. Schroeder, “Celsus und Porphyrius als Christengegner” in Die Welt als
Geschichte 17 (1957), 190-202; J. J. O’Meara, Porphyry's ‘Philosophy from Oracles' in
Augustine (Paris 1959); J.-B. Laurin, Orientations mattresses des apologists chretiens de
270 a 361 (Rome 1954).
29. Outbreak and Course of the Diocletian Persecution down to Galerius*

Edict of Toleration in 311
S ources
Lactantius, De mortibus persecutorum, edited J. Moreau in SourcesChr 39 (Paris 1954),
I: Text and translation, II: Commentary; Eng. Trans, in ANF 7; Euseb. HE Book VIII
and De martyribus Palaestinae; Panegyrici latini, edited E. Galletier, 2 volumes (Paris
1949-52). Various accounts of individual martyrs are indicated in the footnotes. On
502
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Eusebius, cf. R. Laqueur, Eusebius als Historiker seiner Zeit (Berlin 1929); D. Wallace-
Hadrill, Eusebius of Caesarea (London 1960); J. Sirinelli, Les vues historiques d’Eusebe
de Cesaree durant la periode preniceenne (Dakar 1961).
Literature
See above Chapter 8, bibliography, in particular the works on the persecutions by
H. Gr^goire, J. Moreau, and J. Vogt. In addition: L. Pareti, Storia di Roma e del
mondo romano, VI; Da Decio a Constantino (251-337) (Turin 1962); J. Vogt, Constan
tin der Grofie und sein Jahrhundert (Munich, 2nd ed. 1960); J. Vogt, Zur Religiositdt
der Christenverfolger (Heidelberg 1962); G. Ricciotti, The Age of Martyrs, Christianity
from Diocletian to Constantine (London 1960); G. E. M. de Ste Croix, “Why were the
Early Christians Persecuted?” in Past and Present 26 (1963), 6-38; H. U. Instinsky, Die
alte Kirche und das Heil des Staates (Munich 1963).
O n D iocletian: W. Ensslin in Pauly-Wissowa VII A, 2418-95; W. Seston in RAC, III

1036-53, and on this, cf. J. Straub, Historia I (Baden-Baden 1950) 487-99; W. Seston,
Diocletien et la Tetrarchie, I (Paris 1946); W. Seston, “A propos de la ‘passio Marcelli
centurionis’. Remarques sur les origines de la persecution de Diocletien” in Melanges
M. Goguel (Paris 1950), 239-46; K. Stade, Der Politiker Diokletian und die letzte grofie
Christenverfolgung (Wiesbaden 1927); N. H. Baynes, “The Great Persecution” in Cam
bridge Ancient History, 12 (London 1929), 646-77; A. Rehm, “Kaiser Diokletian und
das Heiligtum von Didyma” in Philologus 93 (1938), 74-84; J. Straub, Vom Herrscher-
ideal der Spdtantike (Stuttgart 1939), 84-89, and J. Moreau in Annales Univ. Sarav.
2 (1953), 97 ff. Both these works deal with Diocletian’s abdication.
O n M aximianus H erculius: W. Ensslin in Pauly-Wissowa XIV, 2486-16.
O n G alerius: W. Ensslin in Pauly-Wissowa XIV, 2516-28; J. Vogt in RAC II, 1192-99;
Fliche-Martin II, 457-77; M. Gelzer, “Vom Wesen und Wandel der Kirche” in Fest
schrift E. Vischer (Basle 1935), 35 ff.
On M aximinus D aia : O. Seeck in Pauly-Wissowa IV, 1986-90; H. Gr^goire, “La
religion de Maximin Daia” in Byz (B) 8 (1933), 49-56.
On M axentius: E. Groag in Pauly-Wissowa XIV, 2417-87; H. Leclercq in DACL X,
2752-69.
30. The Definitive Turning-Point under Constantine the Great

S ources
As in the previous chapter, together with Eusebius, Vita Constantini, edited by I. A.
Heikel, GCS Eusebius I (Leipzig 1902). On the question of authenticity: I. Daniele,
I documenti Constantiniani della (Vita Constantini’ di Eusebio di Cesarea (Rome 1938);
J. Vogt, “Die Vita Constantini des Eusebius und der Konflikt zwischen Constantin und
Licinius” in Historia 2 (1953), 463-71; P. Franchi de Cavalieri, Constantiniana (Rome
1953), 51-65; F. Vittinghoff, “Eusebius als Verfasser der Vita Constantini” in RhMus 96
(1953), 330-73; A. Jones “Notes on the Genuineness of the Constantinian Documents in
Eusebius’ Life of Constantine” in JEH 5 (1954), 196-200; H. Gr^goire, “L’authenticit£
et l’historicite de la Vita Constantini attribute a Eus£be de C£sar£e” in Bulletin Acad.
Royale Belg. 39 (1953), 466-83; J. Moreau, “Zum Problem der Vita Constantini” in
Historia 4 (1955), 234-45; F. Scheidweiler, “Die Kirchengeschichte des Gelasios und die
Vita Constantini” in ByZ 46 (1953), 293-301, and by the same author “Nochmals die
Vita Constantini” in ByZ 49 (1955), 1-32.
The Letters, Decrees, and Laws of Constantine with religious content are dealt with
503
BIBLIOGRAPHY
by H. Dorries, Das Selbstzeugnis Kaiser Konstantins (Gottingen 1954), and by H. Kraft,

Kaiser Konstantins religiose Entwicklung (Tubingen 1955) (with abundant bibliography
273-82). A. Bolhuis, “Die Rede Konstantins an die Versammlung der Heiligen und
Lactantius’ ‘Divinae Institutiones’” in VigChr 10 (1956), 25-32.
On Eusebius as a historian, as well as J. Lacqueur (cf. bibliography to Chapter 29
above), I. Sirinelli, Les vues bistoriques d’Eusebe de Cesaree durant la periode preniceenne
(Dakar 1961); G. Downey, “The Builder of the Original Church of the Apostles at
Constantinople: A Contribution to the Criticism of the Vita Constantini Attributed to
Eusebius” in DOP 6 (1951), 53-80.
Literature
Only a selection can be made from more recent writings; the literature available is
immense. Surveys of this in: N. H. Baynes, Constantine the Great and the Christian
Church (London 1929); J. Miller in BJ 246 (1935), 42-130, 279 (1942), 237-365; E. Ger-
land, Konstantin der Grofie in Geschichte und Sage (Athens 1937); F. Staehelin, “Kon
stantin der Grofie und das Christentum” in ZSKG (1937), 385-417; 19 (1939), 396-^03;
A. Piganiol in Historia I (1950), 82-96; H. Karpp in ThR 19 (1950), 1-21; K. F. Stroh-
ecker in Saeculum 3 (1952), 654-80; E. Delaruelle in BLE 54 (1953), 37-54, 84-100.
G eneral T reatment of C onstantine: J. Vogt in RAC III, 306-79 gives the best
summary and survey of the problems of research regarding Constantine. J. Burckhardt,
Die Zeit Constantins des Grofien (1853, Stuttgart, 6th ed. 1949); A. Piganiol, Vempereur
Constantin (Paris 1932); E. Schwarz, Kaiser Konstantin und die christliche Kirche
(Leipzig, 2nd ed. 1936); K. Honn, Konstantin der Grofie (Leipzig, 2nd ed. 1945);
A. H. Jones, Constantine the Great and the Conversion of Europe (London 1948);
L. Voelkl, Der Kaiser Konstantin (Munich 1957); H. Dorries, Konstantin der Grofie
(Stuttgart 1958); H. Dorries, Constantine and Religious Liberty (New Haven 1960);
J. Vogt, Constantin der Grofie und sein Jahrhundert (Munich, 2nd ed. 1960).
C onstantine’s C onversion: An account of research in J. Vogt, Relazioni del X° Con-
gresso intemazionale di Scienze stor. II (Florence 1955), 375-423; H. Gregoire, “La
conversion’ de Constantin” in Rev. univ. Bruxelles 36 (1930-1) 231-72; H. Gregoire,
“La statue de Constantin et le signe de la croix” in Antiquite classique I (1932), 135-42;
W. Seston, “La vision pai'enne de Constantin et les origines du christianisme constantinien”
in Melanges Cumont (Brussels 1936), 373-95; H. Gregoire, “La vision de Constantin
‘liquidee’ ” in Byz (B) 14 (1939), 341-51; A. Alfoldi, “In hoc signo victor eris” in
Pisciculi, Festschrift F. J. Dolger (Munster 1939); J. Vogt, “Die Bedeutung des Jahres
312 fur die Religionspolitik Konstantins des Grofien” in ZKG 61 (1942), 171-90;
J. Moreau, “Sur la vision de Constantin” in RevEAug 55 (1953), 307-33; C. Martin,
“L’Empereur Constantin fut-il un chr^tien sincere?” in NRTh 78 (1956), 952-4; F. Alt-
heim, “Konstantins Triumph von 312” in ZRGG 9 (1957), 221-331; H.-I. Marrou,
“Autor du monogramme Constantinien” in Melanges Etienne Gilson (Paris 1959), 403
to 414. On Constantine’s attitude towards the Sol invictus see J. Karayannopulos in
Historia 5 (1956), 341-57 and S. Kyriakidis in Hellenika 17 (1962), 219-46.
C onstantine’s R elation to C hristianity: H. Koch, Konstantin der Grofie und das
Christentum (Munich 1913); P. Batiffol, La paix Constantinienne et le Catholicisme
(Paris, 4th ed. 1929); J. Straub, “Christliches Sendungsbewufitsein Konstantins” in Das
neue Bild der Antike 2 (Leipzig 1942), 374-94); H. Lietzmann, “Der Glaube Kon
stantins” in SAB 1937, 29; H. von Schoenebeck, Beitrdge zur Religionspolitik des Maxen-
tius und Constantin (Leipzig 1939), new imp. Aalen 1962); J. Vogt, “Zur Frage des
christlichen Einflusses auf die Gesetzgebung Konstantins des Grofien” in Festschrift
L. Wenger, II (Munich 1945), 118-48; J. Gaudemet, “La legislation religieuse de Constan-
504
BIBLIOGRAPHY
tin” in RHEF 33 (1947), 25-61; H. Berkhof, Kirche und Kaiser (Zurich 1947); A. Al-
foldi, The Conversion of Constantine and Pagan Rome (London 1948); W. H. C.
Frend, The Donatist Church (Oxford 1952); C. Cecchelli, / / trionfo della Croce (Rome
1954); K. Kraft, “Das Silbermedaillon Constantins des Groflen mit Christusmonogramm
auf dem Helm” in Jahrbuch fur Numismatik 5-6 (1954-5), 151-78; J.-J. Van de
Casteele, “Indices d’une mentality chr^tienne dans la legislation civile de Constantin” in
Bulletin Assoc. Guillaume Bude 14 (1955), 65-90; A. Ehrhardt, “Constantins
Verzicht auf den Gang zum Kapitol” in Historia 4 (1955), 297-313; H. U. Instinsky,
Bischofsstuhl und Kaiserthron (Munich 1955); I. Karayannopulos, “Konstantin der
Grofie und der Kaiserkult” in Historia 5 (1956), 341-57; R. Carson, “The Emperor
Constantine and Christianity'* in History Today (1956), 12-20; H. Kraft, “Kaiser
Konstantin und das Bischofsamt” in Saeculum 8 (1957), 32-42; K. Aland, “Die religiose
Haltung Kaiser Konstantins” in Kirchengeschichtliche Entwiirfe (Giitersloh 1960), 202
to 239, and by the same author “Der Abbau des Herrscherkultes im Zeitalter Kon
stantins” ibid. 240-56; J. Vogt, “Heiden und Christen in der Familie Constantins des
Grofien” in Eranion, Festschrift H. Hommel (Tubingen 1961), 148-68; I. Gillmann,
“Some Reflections on Constantine’s ‘Apostolic Consciousness’” in Studia patristica 4
(Berlin 1961), 422-8; S. Calderone, Costantino e il Cattolicesimo (Florence 1962); E. L.
Grasmiick, Cocrcitio. Staat und Kirche im Donatistenstreit (Bonn 1964).
31. The Causes of the Victory of the Christian Religion. The Scope and
Import of the Turning-Point under Constantine
Section O n e : M. Sdralek, Vher die Ursachen, welche den Sieg des Christentums
im romischen Reich erklaren (Breslau 1907); K. S. Latourette, History of the Expansion
of Christianity, I (New York 1937), 160-70: “Reasons for Ultimate Success” ; K. Priimm,
Das Christentum als Neuheitserlehnis (Freiburg i. Br. 1939); W. Eltester, “Die Krisis der
alten Welt und das Christentum” in ZNW 42 (1949), 1-19; G. E. M. de Ste Croix,
“Aspects of the Great Persecution” in FlThR 47 (1954), 75-113; W. H. Frend, “The
Failure of the Persecutions in the Roman Empire” in Past and Present 16 (London 1959)
10-30.
Section Two: In addition to the Literature on Constantine in the bibliography to
Chapter 30, see: K. Voigt, Staat und Kirche von Konstantin dem Groflen bis zum Ende
der Karolingerzeit (Stuttgart 1936); K. Setton, Christian Attitude Towards the Emperor
in the Fourth Century, Especially as Shown in Address to the Emperor (New York 1941);
H. Berkhof, Kirche und Kaiser. Eine Untersuchung der byzantinischen und theokratischen
Staatsauffassung im 4. Jahrhundert (Zurich 1947); F. E. Cranz, “Kingdom and Polity
in Eusebius of Caesarea” in HThR 45 (1952), 47-66; S. L. Greenslade, Church and State
from Constantine to Theodosius (London 1954); G. Downey, Philanthropia in Religion
and Statecraft in the Fourth Century after Christ in Historia 4 (1955), 199-208; J.-P.
Brisson, Autonomisme et christianisme dans VAfrique romaine de Septime Severe a
învasion arabe (Paris 1958); K. Aland, “Das Konstantinische Zeitalter” in Kirchen
geschichtliche Entwiirfe (Giitersloh 1960), 165-201; ibid. “Kirche und Kaiser von Kon
stantin bis Byzanz”, 257-79; B. Lohse, “Kaiser und Papst im Donatistenstreit” in
Ecclesia und Res Publica: Festschrift fur K. D. Schmidt (Gottingen 1961), 76-88;
H. Rahner, “Konstantinische Wende?” in Stimmen der Zeit 167 (1960-1), 419-28;
A. Momigliano (ed.), The Conflict between Paganism and Christianity in the Fourth
Century (Oxford 1963); R. Hornegger, Macht ohne Auftrag (Olten-Freiburg i. Br.
1963); P. Stockmeier, “Konstantinische Wende und kirchengeschichtliche Kontinuitat” in
HJ 82 (1963), 1-21; G. Brunner, “Zur Konstantinischen Frage” in OstKSt 11 (1962),
43-51.
505
GENERAL INDEX
Figures in italics denote pages where the subject receives more intensive treatment.
Aberkios inscription 207 Alexander the Great 15, 88

Aberkios, Phrygian Christian 209, 364 Alexander of Roes 22
abjuration, formulas of 266 Alexandria, administrative centre of the Church
abortion 308 215, 355
absolute truth- Christian claim of 125 — cultural centre 230, 368
Abunoteichos, oracle 96 — in the Jewish Diaspora 66
Achaea, Christianization o f 102, 379 Alexandrians 50
Acilii, crypt of the 132 Allatius, Leo 43
Acilius Glabrio, consul 132 allegorical interpretation of the OT 67, 70, 189,
acolytes 350 196, 231, 245
Acta Archelae 208 allegory and Gnosis 184
Acta Pauli 194 almsgiving 313
Acton, J. E., 1st Baron 36, 52f, 54 Altaner, Berthold 42
Acts of the Apostles 105 Alzog, J. 37
— apocryphal 112f, 298 Amaseia 375, 377
Acts of the Martyrs 448 Amastris 209, 375
Adalbert of Bremen 17 Ambrose, St, Bishop of Milan 14, 236, 300
Adam, symbol of human reason 67 Amen 110, 281-3
Adam of Bremen 17 Ammonius, presbyter of Calaris 382
Addai, Christian missionary 207 Ammonius, Bishop 259
Adiabene 373 Ammonius Saccas, neo-Platonist 235
Adonis 92 dvYvacbanf)? 351
Adoptionism 154, 255 Ananias and Sapphira 79
Adrianople 417, 424 Ananus, high priest 77
Aelia Capitolina 206 Anastasia, daughter of Constantius Chlorus 409
Afra, martyr 386 anchor, Christian symbol 286
Afrahat, 267 Ancyra, Synod of ( a . d . 314) 377
Agape, martyr 402 Andrieu, M. 44
agape 284, 309 angels, doctrine of 169, 174f, 178, 187
agapetae system 297 Anicetus, Pope 270, 283
Agathonike, a Christian 160 Anna, prophetess 71
Aggai, missionary 207 Anointed in Qumran, the 64
Agnes, St 401 anointing of the sick 85
agnosia 263 — among the Gnostics 189
Agricius, Bishop of Trier 385 — at baptism 279
Agrippa Castor 187, 194 Anselm of Canterbury, St 18
Agrippinus, Bishop of Carthage 210, 361, 383 Anselm of Havelberg 20
Aguirre, J. S£enz de 27 Anthony, Roman general 89
Alban of Verulam, martyr 386 anthropology 180
Alcibiadcs of Apamea 154 anti-Christian polemic 164-71, 389-96
’ AXr)0r)<; X6yo<; of Celsus 167 anti-Gnostic literature 182, 194-5
Alexander, Bishop of Jerusalem 219, 225, 235, Antigonus, Hasmonaean 59
371 Antioch in Pisidia 100
Alexander, a Christian physician 161 Antioch in Syria 77, 98, 101, 103, 207, 242, 372
Alexander VI, Pope 54 — administrative centre of the Church 215, 355
507
GENERAL INDEX
Antioch, missionary centre 355 Aron, British martyr 386

Antipater, father of Herod the Great 59 Arrius Antoninus, proconsul 163
anti-Paulinism 156 Arsacidcs 261
anti-Semitism 68, 460 art, Christian 216, 285-8, 454
Antitheses of Marcion 191 — and liturgy 286
Antonianus, African bishop 336 Artemon, Adoptionist 255
Antoninus of Florence 22 Arycanda, inscription from 406
Antoninus Pius, Emperor 136, 173 Ascensio Isaiae 114
Antony, the hermit 14 ascetism 216, 232, 295-8, 422
Anullinus, prefect in Africa 415, 419 — in Philo 67-68
Apamea 164 — of the Montanists 204
apatheia 237 — in Manichaeism 264
Apelles, Marcion’s pupil 192 Asclepiades, Bishop of Antioch 219
Apocalypse 132f Asclepiodotos, Adoptionist 255
— in late Jewish thought 65f, 114, 153 Asclepios 91, 96
— of John 114 desf}eta 299
— of Peter 114 Ashtishtat, Armenia 376
apocalyptic literature of the Gnostics 182 Asia Minor 101, 111, 119, 374f, 377
apocryphal writings of the New Testament 137, Asia proconsularis 102
182, 194, 265 Assemani, J. 43
Apocryphon of John 158 Asterius the Sophist 269, 273
<X7TOX(XT(X(JTaCTl£ 239 Astigi 384
Apollinaris of Hierapolis 159, 179 Astorga, Spanish bishopric 384
Apollinaris of Laodicea 391 astrology 94
Apollo 93,96,396,410 — among the Mandaeans 157
Apollonius, martyr 163 — and Gnosticism 184
Apollonius of Tyana 392, 395f Atargatis 92
Apologeticum 250f Athanasius 14
apologists 159, 165, 171-80 atheism 165, 178
apostles 73f, 78, 106, 253 Athenaeus 233
— twelve 75, 78 Athenagoras 159, 178
— missionary work 111 f Athens 103, 209, 379
— according to Porphyry 392 athleta Christi 298
apostolic college 75, 78 Attalos, Christian in Lyons 161
Apostolic Constitutions 246, 343 Atticus, proconsul 206
Apostolic Fathers 124, 137-40, 470-2 Attis, cult of 92
apostolic literature of the Gnostics 182 audientes 277
apostolic proclamation 70, 81, 110 — (hearers) in Manichaeism 263
apostolic tradition 124, 137, 151f, 246 Augsburg 386
apotaxis 290 auguries 396
Apuleius 91 Augustine 14f, 17, 28, 34
Aquaviva, C. 30 — and Manichaeism 266
Aquila and Priscilla 103, 129 — on heretical baptism 363
Aquila, Roman prefect 219 — and Porphyry 394
Aquila, translator of the Bible 206 Augustus 60, 88-90, 105-7
Aquileia 381 Auranitis 59
Arabia 208, 370 Aurelian, Emperor 318, 390
area 352 Autolykos 178
archaeology, Christian 26, 42f 454
Archelaus, son of Herod the Great 59 Babylas, Bishop of Antioch 225
archisynagogus 66 Babylon 94, 114
archons 95, 182 Bach, J. 43
Ardabau 199 Baeumer, S. 44
Arianism 50 Bacumker, C. 42
Aristides 173f Bagravan, Armenian see 376
Aristides, Aelius 96 Bahram I 262
Ariston, apologist 208 Balkans 379
Aristotle 232,255 Ballerini, P. and G. 28
Arius 242,264 baptism, Christian 84, 108f, 122, 142f, 175, 179,
Arles, see Synods 233, 273, 288f, 322, 339, 393
Armenia 375 — of Jesus 71,189
Amobius the Elder 383, 396 — effect of 84, 143, 289f
Arnold, Geylhoven 22 — seal of 142, 318f, 323
Arnold, Gottfried 30 — symbol 151, 197, 280f, 289
508
GENERAL INDEX
baptism of the Elchasaites 154 bishop, controls cult of the martyrs 275
— of the Mandaeans 157 — administers baptism 278 f
— of the sick 247 — consecration of 282, 348
— dispute about — by heretics 249, 359, 360-4 — power of absolution 328, 342f
— of heretics 253, 360 — leader of the ecclesiastical community 346
— date for 273, 279 — choice of 347f
— candidates 276-9 — outstanding example to the community 347
— by blood 278,294 — maintains ecclesiastical unity 348
— act of 279-81 — age of 349
baptismal formula 143 — controls the community’s property 352
— spirituality 142, 288-92 — interpreter of Holy Scripture 349
— customs in Mandaeism 157 — as arbiter 422
— renunciation 279 — in the Christian Roman empire 432
— vow 290 bishoprics in North Africa 383
— obligation 291,339 Bithynia 111, 208
— robe 291 Blampin, Thomas 28
— fast 304 Blandina, martyr 161
— grace, loss of 325 Blastus, Quartodeciman 271
baptismus clinicorum 351 Blondel, D. 27
baptistery in Dura-Europos 287 Blume, C. 44
baptist sects 157 Bolland J. (Bollandists) 28 f
Barbelo-Gnostics 189f Bologna 381
Bar Cochba rebellion 66, 172, 206 Boniface VIII, Pope 8, 19
Bardenhewer, Otto 42 Book of Enoch 65
Bardesanes 207 Book of Jubilees 65
Barnabas 77, 80, lOOf, 111 Book of Mysteries in Qumran 65
Baronius, Caesar 6, 25 Book of Noah in Qumran 65
Bartholomew of Lucca 19 Bornkamm, H. 3
Basilides, Bishop of Emerita 358 Borst, Arno 5
Basilides, Egyptian martyr 219 Bosio, Antonio 26
Basilides, Gnostic 187f Bossuet 30, 34
Basilidians, Christians 185 Bostra 208, 370
Basil the Great 311 Bradshaw 49
Batanaea 59 Braun, Conrad 25
Batiffol, Pierre 38, 44 Braun, Josef 44
Baumstark, Anton 43 breaking of bread 84f, 109
Baur, F. C. 3, 35, 37 Bremond, A. 29
Beatus Rhenanus 24 Bremond, H. 46
Beck, H. G. 43 Brescia 382
Bede, the Venerable 15f Brieger, Theodor 39
being, Gnostic interpretation of 183 British Isles 386
Belgica 385 brotherly love, Christian 110, 122, 428
Belial 64, 114 Briick, H. 38
Bellarmine, Robert 26 Bruno of Cologne 18
Bellona 88 Buchberger, Michael 41
Benedict XIV, Pope 44 Buddha 263
Benedict, St, founder of a religious order 50 Buddhism and Mani 265
Benno of Osnabriick 18 burial, early Christian 221, 287f, 310, 454
Berber tribes 384 Butler, Dom Cuthbert 55
Bernard of Clairvaux 28, 300 Byblos 92
Bernard Gui 21 Byzacena 383
Beroea 103 Byzantine historiography 13
Bcrossos 94 Bzovius, Abraham 25
Berti, Gianlorenzo 31 f Cadmus, Bishop of Bosphorus 378
Beryllus, Bishop of Bostra 259f, 370 Caecilian. Bishop of Carthage 345, 415, 419
Bethlehem 71 Caesar divus Julius 89
Bigne, Marguerin de la 25 Caesarea in Cappadocia 215, 355
Bihlmeyer, K. 38 Caesarea in Palestine 60, 104, 371
binding and loosing, Church’s power of 326, caesariani 227
biography 5, 23; see also Lives Caesarius of Heisterbach 18
Bishop, Edmund 44, 55 Caesaropapism 429
bishop, see also episcopate calendar, Roman 116, 274
— representative of Christ 149 Callistus, Pope 215, 245, 247, 258f, 275, 329, 358,
— and the Church 151, 253, 348 379
509
GENERAL INDEX
Calvin, John 8, 50 Christ, His second coming 75, 109, 200

Candace, Queen of Ethiopia 77 — as a title 81
Canisius, Peter 25 — Son of God 108, 120f
Canon of Truth 194, 197 — His expiatory death 108
canon, scriptural 180, 194 — the principle of the Church’s life 150
Canons of Hippolytus 246 — in Gnostic teaching 186, 189
Canticle of Canticles 245, 296 — bridegoom of the soul 237, 291
Cappadocia 93, 111, 219-22, 374 — divinity of 255f
C=racalla 217, 220f, 368 — His death on the cross 290
Carlyle, Thomas 55 — comforts martyrs 293
Carneades 94 — monogram 41 If, 414
Carthage 210,249, 383 Christ-Helios 288
— administrative centre of the Church 215, Christian, name of 132, 133f
Casel, Odo 44 — literature 229-54, 369, 383, 483-9
Cassian 55 Xpia-uavof 77
Cassiodorus 13 Christians, legal position in the empire 131
catacombs 287f, 382 — accused of godlessness 131
catacumbas, in 116 — tried in court 132-6, 161, 163f
catechetics 274 — and Roman citizenship 133
catechumenate 215, 231, 240, 275-8, 289, 387, — number in Bithynia 133f
catechumens 218 — denounced 133, 135, 390
catechumenus 277 — and Trajan’s law 134
Cathars 248, 338 — legal status of 136f
cathedra Petri 360, 365 — the true Israel 141
catholicity of the Church 150f — moral failure of 144
Cauchie, Alfred 39, 56 — and pagan culture 162
causality, historical 4, 32 — according to Celsus 169
Cayr£, F. 42 — lawbreakers 170
Ceillier, Remi 26, 40 — their daily life 175
Celerinus, Roman Christian 224 — manner of life 179, 233
celibacy 65, 298 — in the Roman imperial court 217f, 318, 396
cells, Christian 101, 111 — and military service 218, 220, 251, 277, 317,
— Gnostic 193 398
Celsus 164, 167-71, 391 f — deported 221
Celsus, Roman vicarius 421 — lapsed 224-6,228,404
cemeteries 226, 417 — banished 227, 405f
cemeterium Callisti 287 — Coptic 370
cemetery of St Sebastian 287f — number of c. a .d . 300 386
censorship 53 — in the army 398
centres of the Church 215, 355 — degradation of 398
Centum Cellae 226 — compelled to offer sacrifice 399
Cephalaea, textbook of Manichaeism 261 — denigrated 406
Cephas 79 — high moral quality of 427
Cerdon, Gnostic 190 Christianity, expansion of 205-11, 367-88, 481,
certificate of sacrifice, see libellus 500-2
Cervini, Marcello 26 — of the Johannine Writings 119-23, 467f
Cesena 381 — religion of the slaves 169
Chacon (Giaconius), Alphonse 29 — the only certain philosophy 174
Chalcedon 377 — special features in Africa 249
Chambon, J. 3f — and Manichaeism 264f
charismatically gifted men 80, 105f, 149 — and the pagan State 316-18
charity, Christian 85, 102, 105, 152 — official religion in Armenia 376
Charlemagne 32f — in Spain 385
Chateaubriand, F. R. 34, 49 — general animosity against 395
Chenoboskion 182 — syncretist 426
Chevalier, Ulisse 41 — and class-war 426
chiliasm 14, 154, 176, 240; see also eschatology — causes of the final success 426-9
Chione, martyr 402 Christianas 277
chorepiscopus 353, 377 Christo-centricity 144, 237, 303
Chosen People, see Israelites Christo-centric spirituality 237, 300
Chrestos, Christ 129 Christology 121, 141, 153, 155, 191, 239, 252
Chrestus, Bishop of Syracuse (Sicily) 382 Christophorus 293
Christ 82, 144, 150f, 154, 170, 191, 288, 392, 395, Chronicle of Hippolytus 246
428f Chrysippus 232
510
GENERAL INDEX
Chrysopolis (battle A.D. 324) 424 Constantia 409

Chrysostom, J. 28 Constantine the Great 6, 12, 32f, 266, 385, 405,
Church, idea of the (ecclesiology) Iff, 4, 9, 25, 407, 408, 410, 414-17, 419-22, 423-5, 430
46, 196, 247f, 253 — basilica 118
— and culture 3, 6f, 177, 313-16, 431 — conversion 407-16
— in America 56 — vision of the cross 412f
— founded by Jesus 72 — statue 414
— as organic framework 73 — coinage 414
— her universality 79, 122, 151 — edicts 416
— unity of 109, 150, 253, 360, 366 Constantinian turning-point 429-32
— in John’s Gospel 122f Constantius, Emperor 432
— bride of the Lamb 123, 245, 366 Constantius Chlorus, Emperor 399f, 409
— the new Jerusalem 123 Constitutio Antoniniana 220
— organization 146-52, 215 consummati (martyres) 224
— the Great, an anti-Marcionite movement? 198 continence 201, 295f
— functions attacked by Montanism 203f Convention of Milan 416f, 430
— and State 218, 429,432 conversion to Christianity 48, 217, 422
— as Mother 233,363/ Corinth 103, 137, 147, 209, 378
— and Holy Scripture 238 Cornelius, captain 77
— and salvation 253, 420 Cornelius, Pope 226, 248, 331, 336, 351, 359, 381
— and Manichaeism 264, 266f corona martyrii, virginitatis 296f
— and penance 324, 339, 341 coronati (martyres) 224
— constitution 346-60 correptio 340
— provinces 353f Council of the Apostles 76, 79f, 83, 100-2
— devotion to 365-7 Council of Nicaea ( a . d . 325) 256, 271, 354f
— symbolism 365f councils 6, 8ff, 14, 23, 26f, 33, 50, 450
— property 415 Coustant, Pierre 28
— independence 432 Covenant of Israel with Jahwe 60
Cicero 315f Crabbe, Peter 24
Cilicia 102 Creation, Christian doctrine of 168, 239f
circumcision 69, 71, 101 — Gnostic account 183f
civilization, pagan 307 — myth of the Sethians 189
civilization, secular, and Christianity 313-16 Creator according to Marcion 190
Claudius, Emperor 103, 128 Creighton, Mandell 53, 54
Claudius, letter of 128 cremation of Christians 161
Claudius Apollinaris 270 Crescens, pagan philosopher 160, 165
Claudius Herminianus, Roman governor 219 Crete 209, 378
Clement VI, Pope 23 Crimean peninsula 378
Clement of Alexandria 140, 230-4, 270, 285, 288, crimen laesae maiestatis 13If, 220
299f, 314, 339 Cromwell 54
Clement of Rome 130, 131, 137f, 295 crux monogrammatica 411
— discipline of penance 339f cults, pagan 87f, 125, 277f; see also emperor
Cleomenes, Modalist 257 cultural ideal, Christian 233, 368
clergy 80f, 227, 346-52, 380, 383, 399, 415 cultor dei 420
clerical grades, Christian 216, 350 cultus dei 422
Cnossos 209, 378 Curtius, E. R. 42
Cocqueline 36 Cybele cult 88f, 92f
Coelesyria 153, 372 Cyprian, E. S. 32
Cologne 211 Cyprian of Carthage 14, 223, 252f, 291, 315,
Commodus, Emperor 163f 330-4, 347f, 359-62
communicatio ecclesiastica 327 Cyprus 100, 378
communion ritual 284 Cyril, Bishop of Jerusalem 267
community life 288-319
community of goods 85f, 155 Dacus (Balkans), episcopal see 379
communities, Christian 78, 105-11, 311, 350f Dahlmann, F. C. 41
confessio 333 Damascus 79, 207, 371
confessores 275 Damasus, Pope 116, 344, 401
confirmation 280 Daniel in Christian art 287
confiscation 227 Danillou, J. 46
Congar, Yves 46 Dannenmayr, Matthias 33
conscience, free 52 Danubian provinces 209
consecratio 89 deacon 106f, 279, 311, 350
consignatio 279 deaconess 312
consilium 420 decadence, theory of 5, 21f, 24
511
GENERAL INDEX
Decius, Roman emperor 222-6, 294 Dura-Europos 178, 221, 287, 292, 373
Delacroix, S. 45 Durandus, William 48
Delehaye, Hippolyte 43 Dynamism 255f
Delisle, L. V. 36
Delius, W. 3 Eadmer 18f
Delphi, inscription of Gallio 103 Early Christian authors (editions) 447f
Demetrius, Bishop of Alexandria 208, 231, 235, Easter festival 68, 268, 272f
370 — date of 115, 207, 217
Demetrius, opponent of Paul 103 — hymn 179
demiurge 184, 188, 192 — letters 240
demons 95, 168, 175, 177, 263, 317 — controversy 268f, 358
Denifle, H. 37, 42 — fast 269, 272
Depositio martyrum 275 — liturgy 269
Derbe 100 — vigil 269, 272/, 279
diadodis, kingdoms of the 87, 89 — octave of 274
Sioc&ox^j 357f eastern churches 49
Siaxoveiv 80 Ebeling, G. 3
Dialogue with the Jew Tryphon 173 Ebendorfer, Thomas 21
Diaspora, Jewish 66-70 Ebionites 154-6
Diaspora Jews 68, 101, 120 ecclesiastical year 273f
Diatessaron 178, 373 ecclesiology, see Church
Didache 139, 141, 295 Echard, J. 29
Didascalia, Syrian 269, 272, 283, 304, 342-4, 349 Edessa 207f, 286, 372
Didascalos, by Clement of Alexandria 233 edicts of the emperor 223f, 226f, 397-9, 425f
Didymus of Alexandria 267 Egypt 71, 93, 208, 219, 369
dies solis 422 Ehrhard, Albert 2, 38, 40, 43
Dietrich of Niem 21 f Ehrle, Franz 37, 42
Dio Cassius 131 f, 218 Ehses, S. 39
Diocletian, Emperor 266, 396-400, 502f Eisengrein, W. 25
Diodorus of Tarsus 268 Ekkehart of Aura 17
Dionysius, Pope 215, 259, 311, 363 exxX7)(jfa 77f
Dionysius of Alexandria 221, 223-8, 240, 245, Elchasai, holy book of 156f
248, 259, 295, 310f, 337, 349, 361, 363, 369, — his vision of Christ 157
375, 378, 389 Elchasaites 154f
Dionysius of Corinth 115, 194, 209, 311, 324, 378 Elders 80, 106
Dionysius Exiguus 13, 16 elects in Christianity 278
Dionysus cult 92 — in Manichaeism 263
ditheism 256, 258 Eleutherius, Pope 357
divine sonship 108, 120, 122 emanations 188, 262
Docetism 147, 154, 192, 197 emperor, cult of 88f, 94, 97, 120, 127f, 132f, 398,
DolgerF. J. 42 463
Dollinger, J. J. I. 35, 50, 53 Encratites 178, 298, 304
domina mater ecclesia 366 end of the world 5, 65, 109; see also eschatology
Dominic, St, founder of a religious order 50 Engelbert of Cologne 18
Domitian, Emperor 131f Enlightenment 2, 5, 9, 33ff
Domitilla 131 Enoch, Book of 65
— catacomb of 132 Ephesus, mission in 103f
Domnus, Bishop of Antioch 256 — administrative centre of the Church 215, 355,
domus ecclesiae 287, 380 377
Donatists 345, 418-20, 432 Ephraem 178, 267
Donatus 418 Epictetus reproaches the Christians 131, 165
doorkeeper 350 Epicurus 86, 173, 232
Dorostorum (Moesia), episcopal see 379 Epidauros 96
Dorotheus, presbyter in Antioch 242, 276 Epigonus, Modalist 257
Dositheos, Gnostic 182 epigraphy, Early Christian 453f
dove, Christian symbol 286 Epiphanes, sovereigns’ title 89
Downside Abbey 54f Epiphania, episcopal see 374
dreams, interpretation 95f Epiphanius, monk 13
Dreves, M. 44 Epiphanius of Salamis 13, 28, 153
Drey, J. S. 35 Epiphany 274
Droysen, J. G. 10 episcopate 2, Ilf, 40
dualism 155, 158, 168, 183f, 187, 191, 262 — according to Ignatius of Antioch 148f
Duchesne, L. 5, 38, 44 — and apostolic tradition 149
Dunstan, St 55 — and orthodoxy 194
512
GENERAL INDEX
episcopate and Scripture 196f Felix, Bishop of Aptungi 345, 418

— theologically grounded 346f Felix, martyr of Milan 382
— qualifications 349 Felix IV, Pope 13
— according to Cyprian 360-2 Feltoe 49
episcops 106f, 148 Festus, Roman procurator 77, 128
Epistula Apostolorum 140, 194 fideles 277
Epistula Claudiana 128 Filastrius, Bishop of Brescia 182
epitaphs 377; see also epigraphy Finke, H. 39f
Erasmus, Desiderius 24 Firmicus Maternus 92
eschatology If, 5, 15, 17, 21, 392; see also end of Firmilian of Caesarea 361-3
the world fish, Christian symbol 286
eschatological hope 93 fisherman 286
esoterism 239 Flacius, Matthias 24
Essenes 63-66, 184 Flavius, Clemens, consul 131
eternity of salvation in Qumran 64f Flavius Josephus 12, 64, 65, 69
eoaYYeXl^sod-at 82 Fleury, Claude 31, 56
Eubel, Conrad 40 Fliche, A. 38,46
Euboea 379 Flodoard of Rheims 17
Eucharist 122, 143f, 151, 176, 252, 310, 393 Fldrez, Enrico 29
— celebration 109f, 281-5 Fortuna, oracle 96
— prayer 143 Fortunatus, African presbyter 331
— great prayer 282f Fournier, Paul 44
euxaptaxia 281 Franchi de’ Cavalieri, Pio 39
Eucherius, Bishop of Lyons 401 Francis of Assisi 18, 20
Eugnostes, Gnostic 182 Franz, Adolf 44
Euhemeros 87 Frederick I, Emperor 8
Euphranor, Bishop 259 Frederick II, Emperor 8
Euplius, martyr 401 freedom of belief, Christian 389
Eusebius, Pope 344 freedom of conscience 52
Eusebius of Caesarea 11-15, 16, 19, 24, 56, i; i, Fronto, pagan rhetor 166
135, 245 Froude 51
— refutation of Porphyry 391 Fructuosus, Spanish martyr 227
— view of Constantine 407 Frutolf of Michelsberg 17
— vision of the cross by Constantine 412f Fundanus Minucius 135
Eusebius of Emesa 268 Funk, F. X. 35,38
Evagrius Sdiolasticus 12 future life, ideas of 93
evangelists 179
Evenett, H. O. 56 Gaius, Roman presbyter 115, 275
Eve, symbol of sensuality 67 Galatia 102f, 111
excavations, Vatican 116f Galen, doctor in antiquity 255
excommunication 193, 327f, 340 Galerius, Emperor 397, 400f, 403f, 405
— penitential 321, 324 Galilee 205
— from the synagogue 343f Gallienus, Emperor 228, 389
exhomologesis 327, 333, 338 Gallio, Roman proconsul 103
Exodus 12 in the liturgy of the Mass 269f Galli, priest of Cybele 92
exorcism for catechumens 278 Gamaliel 99
exorcist 350 Gams, B. 40
Garampi, Giuseppe 29
Fabian, Pope 223, 247, 336 Garcia-Villada, Z. 5
Fabius, African Christian 398 Gasquet, Francis Neil, Cardinal 54
Fabius, Bishop of Antioch 337, 350 Gaudentius, deacon 227
Fall of man 48, 198 Gaul 210, 385f
Farlati 29 Gelasius of Caesarea 13
fasting, Christian 85, 143, 203, 207, 237, 304f Gellius, Roman writer 233
— in Manichaeism 91 Gennadius of Marseilles 22
— in the mysteries of Isis 91 Gentile Christians 79
— among the Montanists 200 George of Laodicea 268
fate and astrology 94 Georgia 376
Fayfim, Christian communities 369 Gerbert of St Blasien 29
Feine, H. E. 45 Gerhoh of Reidierspcrg 19
Felicissimus, African cleric 249 Germania 211, 385
Felicitas, martyr 219, 293 Geyer, Bernard 42
Felix, African bishop 399 Gibbon, Edward 47, 50, 56
Felix and Adauctus, martyrs 401 Gieseler, J. K. L. 37, 56
513
GENERAL INDEX
YX{octct6xo[jlov 352 Hasideans 62f, 64

glossolaly 107 Hasmonaeans 59
Glycon, oracle 96 Hassidim or Hasideans 62
Gnosis, Samaritan 158 Hauck, Albert 5, 41
— according to Marcion 190 Hefele, Carl Joseph 35
— in Manichaeism 263 Hegemonios 268
Gnosticism 181-92, 254f, 477-80 Hegesippus 11, 195, 205, 209, 357f
— and Judaism 157, 184 Heimarmene 86
— sources 181 f Helena, St, mother of Constantine 409
— Christian 184f, 233, 289f Heliogabalus, Emperor 220
— influenced by the Bible 184f Helios 93
— struggle with the Church 192-9 Hellenism 67, 87
— and development of dogma 198 Hellenistic Jews in the primitive community 75f
— in Palestine 205 — art forms 87
— in North Africa 249 — religious philosophy 124
Gnostic elements among the Elchasaites 157 hellenization of the East 87, 90
— liturgy 181 — of Roman religion 87
— literature 181 — of Christianity? 180
— apocalyptic literature 182 Helyot, H. 29
— schools 229 Henry of Brussels 22
godfather 276 Henry VIII, King of England 47, 56
Gooch 51 Heracleia, administrative centre of the Church
Good Shepherd 287f 355
Gospel (evangelium) 82, 154, 175, 393 Heracleon, Gnostic 188
Gospel of Truth 181 Heracles, Christian of Alexandria 231
gothic revivalists 49 Heraclius, Christian of Rome 344f
Goths, Christian 378 Heraclitus 174
Gorres 49 heresy 147f, 199
Gortyna (Crete) 209, 378 Hergenrother, J. Joseph 38
Grabmann, Martin 42 Hermann the Lame 16
Graf, Georg 43 Hermas 136, 139f, 150, 265, 321-4
graffiti 116 Hermes Trismegistos 182
Granianus, Roman governor 135 Hermetism and Gnosis 184
Gratian 24 Hermias, apologist 179
graves of the apostles 115 hermits 215, 298
graves of martyrs 275 Hermogenes, Gnostic 195
Great Church 215f hero cult 89
Great Mother (Cybele) 91 Herod Agrippa 76
Greece 102f, 378 Herod Antipas 59
Greek in Jewish liturgy 67 Herod the Great 59f, 71
— literature 87 Hervet, Gentianus 27
— comedies 87 Hexapla 235
— islands 378 hierarchy 106, 264
Gregoras, Nikephoros 13 Hieraclides, Bishop 370
Gregory VII, Pope 33 Hierocles, Roman official 394, 397
Gregory XIII, Pope 26 Hillel 63
Gregory, Bishop of Nyssa 14, 225 Hinschius, Paul 44
Gregory, Bishop of Tours 15 Hippolytus of Rome 11, 15, 187, 195f, 200, 220f,
Gregory the Great 7, 36 244-7, 282-4, 286, 314, 329
Gregory the Illuminator 376 — commentary on Daniel 245
Gregory Thaumaturgus 225, 241, 343 — Church Order 246f, 273, 280, 282f
Greving, J. 40 — study of Scripture 254
Grillmeier, A. 43 Hirbet Qumran 64
Gudentis, martyr of Carthage 219 history of dogma 455f
Guibert, J. de 46 holiness within the Church 2, 5, 17f, 318ff
Guilday, Peter 39, 56
Holy Spirit 75f, 82, 105, 107, 149, 154, 199, 202,
Guise, Charles 56
233, 248, 252,257
homily 236, 281
Honorius of Autun 22
Hadrian, Emperor 135f, 173 Horace, Quintus Horatius Flaccus 88
Hagenbach, K. R. 37 hospitality 151, 309
Hardouin, J. 27 Hughes, Philip 39, 56
Hamack, Adolf von 42, 43 Hugh of Fleury 19
Hartzheim, J. 27 Hugh of Saint Victor 48
514
GENERAL INDEX
Humanism 23 Joachim of Floris 20

Hume 47 Joan of Arc 49
Hurter, Hugo 40 Johannes Scholasticus 13
Hyacinth, Roman presbyter 163 Johannes Trithemius 22
hymns in the liturgy 109 Johannine writings 119f
— to Christ, by Clement of Alexandria 232 John XXII, Pope 19
— Manidiaean 264 John the Baptist 66, 71, 120, 157
hypostasis 260f John the apostle 75f, 119f
Hystaspes, Syrian Christian 207 — his Gospel 114, 119, 188, 208,393
John Mark 100
John of Nikiu 13
Iconium 100, 204, 377
John of Salisbury 19
Ignatius Loyola 46, 50
John of Segovia 23
Ignatius of Antioch 135, 138, 141, 146, 292
Jonah in Christian art 287
— letter to the Romans 113f, 152f
Joppa 76
Ildefonsus of Toledo 13
Joseph 71
immortality of the soul 179
Joseph II, Emperor 33
immunity for the clergy 415f, 422
Jubilees, Book of 65
imposition of hands 75, 84, 361
Judaea 59, 76
— in the discipline of penance 328, 333
Judaism and Christianity 59-70, 124, 126, 140f,
Incarnation 121, 169, 393
184, 205, 217, 459-61
India, Christian missionary activity 374
infant baptism 253, 279 Judaizers 101
initiation in mystery cults 92-94 Judas 78
Innocent III, Pope 25 Judas Maccabaeus 59
inscriptions, Christian 221, 377, 453 Julia Domna 217
inspiration 238 Julia Mamaea 220
institutum Neronianum 130 Julian, Emperor 91, 310, 408
instruction, Christian 275f Julius, British martyr 386
Iran 93, 183 Julius, Christian soldier 398
Irenaeus, Bishop of Sirmium 402 Julius Africanus 221, 241
Jungmann, J. A. 44
Irenaeus of Lyons 11, 14, 115, 153f, 161, 195,
Justin Martyr, St 11, 14, 135, 160, 174-7, 209,
197, 201, 211, 270f, 338, 356, 429
243, 276, 28If
— Adv. haer. 3, 3, 3 356
Justinian I, Emperor 266
Irene, martyr 402
Isauria 377
Isidore of Seville 13ff, 15, 22 Karpos, martyr 160
Isis cult 88, 90f Katerkamp, Theodor 34
Israel, “holy remnant” 64 Kaufmann, C. M. 42
— holy war of 63 Kawerau, Gustav 37
Israelites’ consciousness of being the Chosen Kehr, Paul 36
People 98 Kerinthos 153f
Italy 210, 379-82 Kerygmata Petrou 156
kingdom of God 61, 72, 82f
Jaff£, P. 41 Kirsdi, J. P. 38, 43
Jahweh 60 kiss of peace 281, 284
Jaldabaoth, Gnostic 189 Klauser, Theodor 42
James, African martyr 227 Klee, H. 43
James the Elder 76 Knopfler, Alois 38, 40
James the Younger 76f, 79 Knowles, Dom David 54f, 56
— clauses of 83 koine 100
Janssen, J. 34, 37, 40 Koniger, A. M. 45
Jerome, St 15f, 22, 236, 237, 245 Kraus, F. X. 38
Jerusalem, Christian congregation 60, 101, 206, Krose, H. A. 442
371 Krumbacher, Karl 43
— the New 65, 123 Kurtscheid, Bertrand 45
— heavenly 200 Kuttner, Stephen 44
Jesus of Nazareth 66, 70-4, 81f, 169, 176, 264 Kyrios, title 8If, 89, 108
Jefl, Gnostic Books of 181 xupi6T7]T6<; 95
jewellery among Christians 314
Jews 60f, 66f, 77, 101, 103, 128 labarum 412, 424
Jewish ethics 69 Lactantius 15, 126, 130, 315, 383, 396, 408, 411
— Christians 76, 98 f, 153 Laderchi, Jacob 25
— Christianity, heterodox 153-8 Laemmer, Hugo 36
— arguments against polytheism 173 Laetus, prefect in Egypt 219
515
GENERAL INDEX
Lamb 121, 123 love of one’s neighbour 65, 232, 308f

Landgraf, Artur 42 Lubac, H. de 46
Laodicea, Phrygian episcopal see 377 Lucian, Paulician 256
lapsed Christians 224-6, 228, 404 Lucian of Antioch 242f, 372, 402
lapsi 332, 334, 344f, 403 Lucian of Samosata 164, 166f
Larissa, episcopal diocese 379 Lucianus, African confessor 224
Last Judgment 61, 65 Lucius, martyr 227
Latin, early Christian 243, 243f, 486-9 Lucius, Pope 226
— translation of the Bible 243, 249 Ludolf of Sagan 23
Latourette, K. S. 45 Luke’s Gospel 191
Laurence, deacon 227 Luther, Martin 8, 24, 32f, 50
Law, Mosaic 61f, 70, 153, 155-7 Lycaonia 102
Law, freedom from, according to Paul 101 Lycia 377
Lazarus in Christian art 288 Lydda 76
lector 350 Lyons 160f, 211,292,385
legal status of Christians 136f, 162, 164, 389 Lystra 100
Legionum urbs (Britain) 386
Lehmann, Paul 42 Maafi, Joseph 5
Leo XIII, Pope 23, 37, 43 Maassen, Friedrich 44
Leo the Great, St 267 Mabillon, Jean 28, 29, 439
Le6n, Spanish episcopal see 384 Maccabees, the time of the 64
Leonides, Origen’s father 219, 234 Macedonia 102f
Leroquais, V. M. 44 Macrianus, usurper 226
Lesourd, P. 45 Macrina 14
Letter to Aristeas 69 Magazzi, archbishop 33
Letter of Barnabas 139 Magdeburg Centuries 6, 24
Letter of Clement 113, 152, 243 Magnesia 208
Letter of Clement, the so-called second 140 Magnus, African bishop 361
Letter to Diognetus 173, 179f Mai, Angelo 43
Letter to Flora 186 Maimbourg, Louis 30
Letter of James 85 Mainz 211, 385
Letter to the Philippians 106 Maistre, J. de 34
Letters of Mani 262 Majorinus, African bishop 418
letters of peace 224, 330-3 Malabar 374
lex Christiana 422 Malchion. presbyter 242, 256
libellatici 223, 225, 332 Mana, Great 157
libelli pads 330 Mandaeans 157f, 261
libellus, certificate of sacrifice 223 f Mani, sermons 261
Liber Pontificalis 13, 23 Manichaean literature 261
library in Alexandria 230 Manichaeism 261-8, 490-2
— in Caesarea 236, 241 Manitius, P. 42
— in Jerusalem 371 Mansi, J. D. 27
Libya 355 Marana-tha 81, 109
Licinius, Emperor 400, 403, 405f, 416f Mark, Bishop of Jerusalem 206
Lietzmann, Hans 5 Marcella, Egyptian martyr 219
Lives of the Saints 14, 18, 27 Marcellina, Gnostic 185
Lightfoot, Bishop of Durham 53 Marcellinus, Pope 344, 401
Lingard, John 49, 56 Marcellus, Christian centurion 398
Lippomani, Luigi 27 Marcian, Bishop of Arles 336, 359, 385
literature, Christian 229-54, 369, 383, 483-9 Marcia, wife of Commodus 163
liturgy 3, 9, 26, 33, 43f, 46, 70, 215, 268-88, Marcion 190-2, 196, 209, 247, 251
449 Marcionites 185
— Jewish 66 Marcus Aurelius, Emperor 94, 159-63, 178, 200,
— of the Lord’s supper 141 211
— of the Marcionites 191 Maria Theresa, Empress 33
Loewenich, W. von 3 Marianus, African cleric 227
Logos 68, 86, 120f, 169, 174, 190, 239, 290 Marinus, martyr of Palestine 390
Logos-Christology 180, 234, 254f marriage, Christian 295f, 307f, 329
London, episcopal see 386 — in Montanism 201, 203, 251
Loofs, F. 43 — mystical 237
Lord’s Supper 84, 109 — in Manichaeism 263
Lortz, Josef 38, 46 — prohibited among the Encratites 298
Louis the Pious 16 M arine, Edmond 28f, 44
love of God 71, 233 Martialis, Spanish bishop 358
516
GENERAL INDEX
Martin, Victor 38, 46 military service and Christians 218, 220, 251,
Martin of Alpartil 23 277, 317, 398
Martin of Troppau 21 militia Christi 280
martyrdom, Christian 123, 144, 170, 254, !, Milman, Henry Hart 51, 53
294 Milner, Joseph 48, 56
— accounts 218, 225f Miltiades, Pope 266, 419f, 432
— readiness for 291, 294 Miltiades, rhetor 179
— devotion to 292-5 Minucius Felix 166, 244f, 285
— and imitation of Christ 292f miracles, belief in, in antiquity 96f
— substitutes 294 Mire (Miraeus), Albert le 26
martyrs 211,219,400-2 Mishna 63
— honoured 128, 292 mission, Christian 2, 8f, 45f, 69, 76, 97, 100-5,
— various kinds of death 225 111, 124, 180, 206f, 215, 218, 248, 387f, 429,
— commemorated 274, 375 413
— number of 402 — centres 102f
martyrion 275 — Jewish-Christian, among the Gentiles 98f
Marx, Jacob 38 — Jewish 206
Mary, mother of Jesus 71, 265 — Gnostic 208
Masiglio of Padua 8 — Manichean 261 f, 264, 267
Mass-form presented by Hippolytus 283 missionary method 100, 181, 211, 353, 375
Massilia 210 Mithras cult 88, 93
mater ecclesia 366 Mithras, his cult image 93
Matemus, Bishop of Cologne 385 Modalism 255-8
matrimony, sanctioned by the Church 307 Modern History 52
Matthew (16:18) 359f, 362 Modestus, anti-Gnostic 194
Matthew Paris 22 Moesia 379
Matthias, apostle 75, 78, 187 Mohlberg, Cunibert 44
Mauretania 383 Mohler, J. A. 2, 6, 35, 37, 56
Maurists 28f Moller, W. 37
Mavilus African martyr 220 Mommsen, T. 55
Maxentius, Emperor 380, 400, 407, 410 Monarchianism 255-8
Maximian, Emperor 399f monarchical episcopate 148, 194, 346
Maximilian, Christian soldier 398 monasticism 55f, 216, 298, 370
Maximilla, Montanist 199 monotheism 60f, 69, 98
Maximinus Daia, Emperor 376, 400, 401 f, f, Montalban, F. J. 45
417 Montanism 162, 199-205, 218, 249
Maximinus Thrax, Emperor 221f, 245 — victory over 204f
meal in Qumran, ritual 65, 155 Montanus 199f, 227, 324
— in the Attis cult 92 Montfaucon, Bernard de 28
— in the Mithras cult 93 morals, Christian 173, 306f
— eucharistic 109, 281, 307 morality, ideal of 97, 178f, 427
Medinet Madi (Egypt) 261 Mosaic Law see Law
Meinecke Friedrich 47 Moses 68, 170
Melanchthon, Philip 30 Mosheim, Lorenz 32f, 48, 56
Melchizedech 256 Mourret, F. 38
Meletius, Egyptian bishop 345f Mulders, A. 45
Melito of Sardes 131, 179, 194, 270f Muratorian Fragment 196
Memoria apostolorum 275 Muratori, L. A. 28, 44
memorial services 116 Museion, library in Alexandria 230
Menander, Gnostic 187 Musonios 174
Mensurius, Bishop of Carthage 418 mystery cults 90-4, 97, 177, 181
Mercati, Giovanni 39 mystical union, ascent to 237
Mlrida, Spanish bishopric 384 mysticism in Philo 68
Merlin, J. 24 — Christocentric 237
Merocles, Bishop of Milan 382 mythology 87, 157, 174
Meruzanes, Armenian bishop 375
Mesopotamia 208, 372 Naassenes 189
Messiah 59, 64, 68, 120, 172 Nabor, martyr of Milan 382
Methodius of Olympus 241, 366, 391 Nag Hammadi 182
metropolitans 354ff Natalis, Alexander 31
Migne, J. P. 36 Natalis, Roman confessor 255, 330
Milan 382 nationalism 48
Milbiller 33 navicula Petri 365
Miletus 104, 377 Nazareth 70
517
GENERAL INDEX
Neale, J. 48f pagan literature and Christianity 314

Neander, A. 35, 50, 56 Paideia (Greek culture) 169, 232
Neo-Caesarea 375 palaeography 451
neo-Pythagoreanism 95 Palestine 205f, 370f
neo-Manichaeism 266 Palladius 14
neo-Platonism 95, 390, 394, 413 Pallavicino, P. S. 30
Nepos, Bishop of Arsinoe 240 Palut, Bishop of Edessa 207
Neri, Philip 25 Pamphilia 377
Nero, Emperor 113f, 129 Pamphilus, presbyter 241, 402
Neronias, episcopal see 374 Pannonia 379
Nerva, Emperor 132 Pantaenus, Alexandrian preacher 208, 230
Neuss, Wilhelm 38 Pantheon 221
Newman, John Henry 36, 48, 50, 55 Panvinio, Onofrio 26
Nicaea, episcopal see 377; see also Council papacy 7ff, 16, 24ff, 29, 30, 54, 364
Nicolas of Cusa 21 Papebroch, Daniel 28
Nicomedia 209, 377, 398 f Paphos (Cyprus) 378
nihil innovandum 335 Papias 12,119,140,190
Nisan 269, 438-40 Papylos, deacon 160
Nisibis 207, 373 papyri, Christian 119, 369, 450
Noah in Christian art 287 Paraclete 203, 265
Noetus 246, 257f Paraphrase of Seth 189
nomen Christianum 136 parish, development of 350
Nomos of the Greeks 170 parousia, expected 83, 85
Norbert of Iburg 18 pars Donati 418
Noricum 379 Parthians 59
North Africa 21 Of, 382f paschal cycle 273; see also Easter
Novatian 116, 227, 247f, 334-8 Paschini, Pio 39
— pastoral letters 248 Passio ss. Perpetuae et Felicitatis 218
Novatus, African presbyter 331, 336f Passover, Christian 269f
numismatics 454 Passover fast 304
Pastor, Ludwig von 37, 40, 56
Octavius Dialogue 244 pastoral districts in Rome 380
offices in the Church 105-7, 138, 148, 346 patrology 452
Ohm, Thomas 45 Patmos 378
Olivi, Petrus J. 20 patriarchates 355
6 [io o u c jio < ; 239, 256, 260 Patripassianists 255, 257
Ophites 189 patristical studies 50
oracles 96 Paul 74, 97-99, 99, 103-6, 128, 129f, 156f, 191,
oracula of the Montanists 200 464f
Oracula Sibyllina 69 — message of Christ 108
Ordericus Vitalis 19 — his tomb 116
ordines minores 351 — epistles of 210, 249
orientation when praying 303f Paul of Samosata 242, 256f
Origen 188, 220f, 232, 231, 234-40, 259, 289-91, Paulicians 256
298-300, 314, 317, 340-2, 347f, 370 pax 334, 335
original sin 252 pax Augusta 89
Orosius, Paulus 14, 56 peace, period before Constantine 222, 368, 389
Orsi, G. A. 31 Peeters, Paul 43
Osiris cult 90 Pella 77, 205, 208
Osrhoene 207, 355, 372 penance 215, 226, 318-45, 597f
Ossius of G5rdova 415, 419, 422 — in the Shepherd of Hermas 145, 321-4
Ostia 93 — according to Hippolytus 245
Ottenthal, E. von 36 — possibility of, according to the N.T. 318f
Otto of Freising 17, 36 — doctrine of the Apostolic Fathers 320
Our Father, the 253, 299, 300f — unrepeatable 322
— in the Mass 284 — edict of 326f
Oxford Movement 50 — procedure 527/, 342f
Oxyrhynchus 370 — duty of 327
— before the congregation 328
Pachymeres, Georgios 13 — liturgy under Cyprian 333f
Pacian, Bishop of Barcelona 337 — in the East 338-44
pactio fidei 280 — public canonical 341
Padua 382 — and clerics 341
paenitentia secunda 323 — repeated 343f
518
GENERAL INDEX
penance and synagogue 343f Plato 67, 175, 232, 241

— canonical 344 Platonism 185
— in Egypt 345f Pliny the Elder on the Essenes 64
penitential attitude 305 Pliny the Younger 131, 133f
— fast 305 Plochl, W. M. 45
— practices 323,3*7,333 pneuma in Gnosticism 188
— clothes 328,333 pneumaticoi 239, 289
—-discipline of Cyprian 330-4 Pole, Cardinal 54
of Origen 340-2 Polycarp of Smyrna 11, 119, 135f, 139, 142,
------ of the Didascalia 342-4 190, 209, 270, 274, 283, 292
Pentapolis 355 Polycrates of Ephesus 115, 209, 271, 358
Pentecost 75, 81, 111, 274 polytheism 306
Pepuza 203 Pompeiopolis in the Pontus 375
Peregrinos Proteus 166 Pompeius Trogus 15
perfection, Christian 233, 236, 288, 299f, 305 Pontianus, Pope 221, 245
Pergamon 96, 377 Pontikos, Christian of Lyons 161
Perge 100 Pontius 14, 291
Perpetua and Felicitas 218f, 382 Pontus 111,209, 225,374
persecutions 76, 116, 125-8, 220f, 405f, 424, 427, popular religions in antiquity 94-98, 168
468-70 Porphyry 234, 390-4
persecutions of the Christians 127-36, 160-4, Poseidonios 94
217-28, 373, 396-400, 403, 405, 424, 482f, 502f Possevino, Antonio 26
Persia 373f Possidius 14
persona 252, 260 Potamiaina, martyr 219
Petavius, Dionysius 28 Potheinos, Bishop of Lyons 161f
Peter 73, 78f, 112-15, 130f, 251f, 359 Pourrat, P. 46
— his tomb 115-18 poverty 150, 312, 380
Peter, Bishop of Alexandria 241, 345, 402 Praeneste, oracle 96
Peter and Marcellinus, martyrs 401 praescriptio 251
Petosiris, astrological writer 94 Praxeas 202, 257
Petrie, Henry 47 prayer 95, 142f, 233, 281, 299-303, 309
Pettau, episcopal see 379 — in Jewish liturgy 66
Pharisees 62f, 66, 72 — to Christ 81, 142, 300
Phileas, Bishop of Thmuis 402 — of petition 299f
Philip, apostle 76f, 80, 83, 98, 115 — stages of 300f
Philip, Bishop of Gortyna 194 — times of 301
Philip, son of Herod the Great 59 — order of 301
Philip the Fair 8 — taught by Christ 301f
Philippi 103, 104, 110 — of martyrs 302
Philippus Arabs, Emperor 221, 318 prayer-texts, Christian 70, 300f
Philo 12, 67-70, 460 preaching, Christian 70, 75, 110, 193
Philosophoumena 246f presbyters (elders) 80, 106f, 148, 191, 282, 349
philosophy, pagan 165, 174, 177, 185, 231f, 314, Priestley, J. A. 56
396 primacy, papal 2, 9, 26, 152, 358ff
Phoenicia 371 primatus in Cyprian 359, 361
Phrygia 103 primitive Church 74-85
Piacenza 381 Prisca, wife of Diocletian 397
Pierios of Alexandria 241 Priscilla, Montanist 199f
piety, Christian 125, 237, 292 Proclus, Montanist 115
— Jewish 62f, 69 Proculus, Christian 217
— popular 303 7td6voia in the Stoa 86
Pilate, documents of 406 propaganda, Jewish 68
pilgrimage, places of in antiquity 96 — anti-Jewish 70
pilgrimages 371 — Christian 171
Pin, L. E. du 26, 40 — Gnostic 186
Pionios, martyr 224 f — Manichaean 256
Pistis Sophia 181 — anti-Christian 276, 406f
Pitra, J. B. 43 prophets and prophecy 60, 64, 107, 110, 150, 175,
Pius I, Pope 139 178, 199
Pius IV, Pope 55 proselytes 69
Pius V, Pope 25 Prosenes, Christian 220
Pius XI, Pope 41 f, 45, 53 npoaeuxh 300
planets 184 Prosper of Aquitaine 14
Platina, Bartolomeo 23 Protrepticus of Clement of Alexandria 232f
519
GENERAL INDEX
Prusa, episcopal see 377 Roma, personification 89

psalms in the liturgy 109 Roma, temples 89
Psalter 302f Roman domination in Palestine 59f
pseudo-Clement letters 155f, 296 — State religion 87, 125, 368
"psychics” 187, 203 — citizenship 99
Ptolemaeos, Gnostic 186, 188 — religious policy 127, 424f
Ptolemies, kings 89, 91 — imperium and Christianity 316
Publios, Bishop of Athens 160 Rome, Christian community 104, 111, 128f, 152,
Pugin, August 49 190, 201, 209f, 243, 355f, 380f
Puteoli 111 — Jewish community 66
Pythagoras 188 — attraction of 152f, 210, 364f
— pre-eminent position 215, 316, 355-60, 364
Rommerskirchen, J. 45
Quadratus, apologist 172
Rossi, Gianbattista de 43
Quaestiones et responsiones 393
Rosweyde, Heribert 27
Quartodecimans 179, 269f
Royko, Kaspar 33
Quasten, J. 42
Qu^tif, J. 29 Rufinus of Aquileia 13f, 237
Quintasius, Bishop of Calaris 382 rule of the community in Qumran 65
Qumran 63-66, 121, 184, 459f rule of faith 151, 197, 238
Ruotger 18
Rupert of Deutz 19
Rabbi 63
rabbinical literature 114 Saba, Agostino 39
rabbinical speculations 60 Sabbath 68f
Rahner, Hugo 46 Sabellius 257f, 358
Rahner, Karl 46 sacraments 3
Ranke 53 sacraments of initiation 269
Rautenstrauch, abbot 33 sacramentum militiae 280
Ravenna 381 sacrificati 223, 332
Raynaldus, Odoricus 25 sacrifice 109, 156
rebirth 92, 108, 289 sacrifices to the gods 227, 399, 403
Rechenberg, Adam 32 sacrificial offering in the Mass 282
Recognitions, by Clement 365 Sadducees 62
reconciliation 328, 333, 339f, 341 Sagaris, Bishop of Laodicea 160, 377
Records Commission 47 Sagmiiller, J. B. 45
redemption 97, 176f, 186, 234, 263 Salamis in Cyprus 100, 378
Reformation 49f, 52 Salimbene von Parma 20
refrigerium 116 Sallustius, G. Crispus 18
Regino of Priim 16 salvation, history of 5f, 14f, 19, 32, 46, 59
religion in antiquity 86-88, 184, 265, 462f — eternal 82, 97
Renaissance popes 49 — in the mystery cults 90, 92f
Renaudot, Eusebius 44 — and baptism 108
renuntiatio saeculi 291 — economy of, 259
rescripts of the emperor 133, 135, 159, 162 Samaria 59, 76, 205
resurrection of the body 74, 108, 176, 178, 197 Sanctus, deacon 161
— of the Lord 74, 81 Sanhedrin 60, 75, 79f, 104
— of Osiris 91 Saragossa, episcopal see 384
Rev-Ardashir, Persian Christian community 373 Sarapeion 91, 230
Revelation, rejected by Celsus 168 Sarapis 91
Revocatus, African martyr 219 Sardinia 382
Rhodon, anti-Gnostic 194 Sarpi, Paolo 30
Rhone valley, path of Christianity 211 Sassanids 376
rigorism, ascetical 202, 203, 250, 298, 313 Satornil, Gnostic 187
Rimini 381 Saturninus, African martyr 219
Ripoll, P. 29 Saturus, African martyr 219
Ritter. J. J. 37 Saviour 82, 96
ritual prescriptions of the Jews 68, 101, 120; see Scapula, proconsul 21 Of, 220f, 383
also liturgy, meal scepticism 244
Robertson 47 Schaff, P. 56
Rocca, Angelo 26 schisms 147, 249, 345
Rogatianus, African deacon 362 Schmaus, M. 43
Rogger, Igino 38 Schmidlin, J. 45
Rohrbacher, R. F. 37 Schmidt, K. D. 3f
Rolls Series 47, 49, 51 Scholasticism 8, 9, 24
520
GENERAL INDEX
school for Jews in Alexandria 67 Silas 102

— of catechists in Alexandria 230f Silvanos, Gnostic 182
— theological 218, 230f, 259 Simeon, Bishop of Jerusalem 71, 135, 153, 205
-------of Caesarea 231 Simon Magus 158
-------of Antioch 242 Sinope 190, 375
schools, Christian missionary centres 211 sins, irremissible 325f, 330, 333
— Christian, private 229f Sirleto, Guglielmo 26f
— Gnostic 229 Sirmium, episcopal see 379
Schreiber, Georg 46 Sirmond 27
Schrockh, J. 33 Siscia, episcopal see 379
Schrors, Heinrich 40 Sixtus II, Pope 227, 363
Schubert, Hans von 5 slave problem 310
Schulte, J. F. von 44 slaves, Christian 161
Schwaiger, Georg 38 sleep, healing 96
Schwane, J. 43 Sleidan, J. 15
Schwartz, Eduard 12 Smedt, Charles de 43
Sdralek, Max 40 Smyrna 136, 225, 377
scientific history 47, 49 Socrates 174
Scili, African Christian community 163f, 210, Socrates, historian 12
Scott, Walter 50 Sohm, R. 7
Scribes 62f sol invictus 410, 413
Scripture reading 236 Son of God 120f, 259
Scripture, Holy 191, 235-8, 251f, 316 sons of light in Qumran 64
Sebaste in Armenia 376 Sophene, province in Lesser Armenia 375
Sebastian, martyr 401 ctg>tt)P 82, 90
Seckendorff, Veit Ludwig von 32 aomjpCoc 90
secret, discipline of 284 soteriology 141
Secundulus, African martyr 219 Sozomen 12
Secundus, Bishop of Tigris 418 Spain 104, 211, 225, 384
Seeberg, Reinhold 43 Spengler, Oswald 4
Seleucia-Ctesiphon 261, 373f Spirit, descent of 82
Seleucides, religious cult of the 89 spiritual life 290, 299
Sem (Seth), Gnostic prophet 190 — guide 339
Seppelt, F. X. 38 — director 341 f
Septimius Severus 94, 217-20, 232 sponsa Christi 366
septizonia, astrological 94 sponsio salutis 280
Septuagint 67-70, 236, 242 St Marthe, brothers 29
Serapion, Bishop of Thmuis 267 St Sebastian’s Basilica 116f
Serdica, episcopal see 379 stars 94, 184
Seripando, Girolamo 26 State and Church 7-9, 15, 19, 33, 317, 416, 423
“Sermons of Peter” 154 — religion, Roman 88
serpent, religious and cosmic symbol 189 — and Manichaeism 268
Servatius of Tongem 386 — pagan, and Christianity 316
service in the community 105, 110 — and Donatism 420
Seth, a Gnostic 182 statio 304
Sethians, Gnostic sect 189 Station fasting 200, 304f
seven appointed helpers of the apostles 75f, Stegmiiller, F. 42
Severa, wife of Philippus Arabs 222 Stephen, martyr 76, 79, 81-83
Severus, Caesar 400 Stephen, Pope 337f, 348, 358-63
Severus Alexander, Emperor 220 Stoics 67, 86f, 94, 185
Sextus Julius Africanus 11 Stolberg, F. L. 34
Shammai, Jewish Scribe 63 Streit, R. 45
Shapur I, King 262, 373 Stromata of Clement of Alexandria 233
Shapur II, King 373 Strutt, Joseph 48
Shea, John G. 56 Strzygowski, J. 42
Shepherd of Hermas 136, 321 Stubbs, William 51
ship, symbol of the Church 286, 364 Stutz, Ulrich 44
Sibylline Books 88, 96 subdeacon 350
Sicily 210, 382f subjectivism, religious 214
sick, visitation of the 278f, 312 Subordinationism 239, 242, 247, 252, 254, 259
Sickel, T. 36,439 succession, apostolic 148, 196, 203, 247, 348,
Sidon 207 356-8
Sigebert of Gembloux 16, 22 Suetonius 18
sign of the cross 277-9, 303 Suffridus Petri 26
521
GENERAL IN D EX
Sulpicius Severus 14, 18 Theodotus the Younger 255

Sunday 84, 284 Theognostos, Alexandrian teacher 241
Sunday law of Constantine 422 theology, Christian 216, 238f
sun-god in the mysteries of Isis 91 Theonas, Bishop of Alexandria 267
— of Emesa 220, 368, 371 Theophanes Confessor 13
superstitio 422 Theophilos, apologist 178f, 194
superstition 94f, 103 Thcophilus, Bishop of Gothia 378
supplicatio 223 deoiploc 299
Surius, Laurentius 27 Theotecnus, opponent of Christianity 405
Swieten, Gerhard van 33 Thietmar of Merseburg 17
Syllucianists 242 Thomas Bccket 19
Sylvanus, Bishop of Gaza 402 Thomassin, Ludwig 44
symbolism in the cult of Adonis 92 0eoTOXO<; 239
— in the Church 367 Thessalonica 103, 110, 379
symbols, Christian 286 Thomas Christians 374
Symmachus, translator of the Bible 155, 236 Thraseas, Bishop of Eumcnia 160
Symposium of Methodius of Olympus 242 thurificati 223
synagogue 62, 66, 69, 80, 100 Thyatira 377
syncretism 90, 183, 368 Tiberius, Emperor 94
synods (in general) 204, 217, 354f, 384 Tillemont, L. S. Lenain de 31
— o f Ancyra ( a . d . 314) 374 Timothy, disciple 102
— of Antioch 256 Tipasius, Christian soldier 398
— o f Arles ( a . d . 314) 271, 309, 363, 381, 385,titular churches of Rome 287, 350, 380
420 Titus, Bishop of Bostra 267
— of Carthage 210, 332f, 360-2, 383 Tixeront, L. J. 43
— of Constantinople ( a . d . 553) 234 Todesco, L. 39
— ofEdessa 207 toleration, religious 86, 220-2, 228, 389, 396
— of Elvira 274, 277f, 286, 309, 337, 351, 384f — edict of 403, 417
— of Iconium 354, 361 Tomasetti, A. 36
— of Lambaesis 383 Tomek, E. 5
— of Rome 336, 381 Tongem 386
— of Synnada 377 Tora 62, 70
Syntagma, anti-Gnostic work 195, 246 tortures of the Christians 133, 219, 223f, 402
syntage at baptism 290 Trachonitis 59
Syracuse 382 Tractarianism 50
Syria 60, 207f tradition and the Law 63
“syzygies” , Gnostic 188 — apostolic 151, 196f, 238, 335, 356
— in Gnosticism 186
Tacitus 115, 129, 165 traditions of the Elders 140
Talmud 63 traditores 345, 399, 418f
Tangl, Michael 36 Trajan’s law against the Christians 134
Tarsus 99, 374f Tralles, Christian community 208
Tatian 160, 177-9, 209, 298 Transjordan 208
Teacher of Righteousness 64 Traube, L. 42
TeXeCoxnq 294 Trdat II, Armenian king 376
Temple 59, 64, 68, 72 Trebonius Gallus, Emperor 226
T^peiv to pdbraa{Aa 291 trias in Theophilus 179, 254
Teresa of Avila 46 Trier 211, 383
TertuIlian 115, 131f, 195, 202-4, 210, 217-19, Trimithus, bishopric on Cyprus
243, 248-52, 257, 272, 280, 283f, 286, 315, 325f trinitas 252
Testament of the Twelve Patriarchs 65 Trinity 174, 178f, 239, 240, 247, 252, 254-60,
0siv6poJ7to<; 239 489f
Theban legion 401 Trishagion 283f
Thebes, episcopal see 379 Trithemius, J. 26
Thebutis, Judaist 153 Troas 103
Theiner, Augustin 36 Troeltsch, Ernst 47
theocracy, Jewish 69 tropaion of Gaius 115-18, 275
Theoctistus, Bishop of Caesarea 235, 371 Tiichle, Hermann 38
Theodore, Bishop of Aquileia 382 Turfin, texts of 261 f
Theodoret of Cyrus 12, 24 Two Ways, Jewish work 139
Theodorus Lector 13 typology 242
Theodosius II, Emperor 266, 391 Tyre 207, 235, 371
Theodotion, translator of the Bible 236 Ubertino of Casale 20
Theodotus of Byzantium 209, 229, 255, 358
522
GENERAL IN D EX
Ullathorne, William Bernard 54f Vita Constantini 408

Ulpian, jurist 220 Vitae of the saints (editions) 448f; see also
unity of the Church 109, 150, 253, 360, 366 biography
— of the Christian congregation 146 vows 298
— of worship 151 vulnus amoris 237
— of God 255-8
Waal, Anton de 39
Wadding, Luke 29
Valentinian I, Emperor 266 Walch, C. W. F. 32
Valentinians 185f, 195 Warneck, Gustav 45
Valentinus, Gnostic 188, 209 washings, ritual 65, 93, 155f
Valeria, daughter of Diocletian 397 Webb, W. 48
Valerian, Emperor 226f Werminghoff, Albert 45
Valla, Lorenzo 23 Wessenberg, I. H . von 34
Vandals 266 widows in the community 309, 3I lf
Vatican Council, the First 55 Wigand, Johannes 24
Vatican excavations 115 Wilkins, D. 27
Veit, L. A. 46 William of St Thierry 237
vera religio 421 Wilpert, J. 42
Vergil, Publius Vergilius Maro 89 Wilson 49
Verona, episcopal see 382 worship, Christian 106, 109f, 281-5, 415
Vettius Epagathos 161 worship, Christian place of 285f, 377, 398
ViaAppia 116f, 118, 287 Wycliffe, John 8
Via Ardeatina 132
vicennalia, celebrated by Diocletian 400
Victor, martyr of Milan 382 Xanten 386
Victor, Pope 209, 255, 257, 271, 358 Xantopulos 13
Vienne 160,211 York, episcopal see in Britain 386
Vigellius Saturninus, proconsul 163f
Vincent of Beauvais 21 Zealots, Jewish group 63
Vincent of Lerins 1 Zeiger, Ivo 45
Vincentius, Spanish martyr 401 Zephyrinus, Pope 115, 201, 244, 258, 287, 330
virginity, Christian 178, 242, 248, 253, 295f, Zeus, cult image of 91
393 Zoroastrianism 262f
vine and branches, symbol of the Church 122, Zosimus 408
367 Zwingli, Huldrych 8

History of The Church Vol I

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

History of The Church Vol I

Uploaded by

Document Information

Original Title

Copyright

Available Formats

Share this document

Share or Embed Document

Sharing Options

Did you find this document useful?

Is this content inappropriate?

Copyright:

Available Formats

History of The Church Vol I

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

MlJSTOiRY OF WME CM U ROM

History of the church

General Introduction to Church History

575 Lexington Avenue, New York, NY 10022

Translated from the Handbuch der Kirchengeschichte, edited by Hubert Jedin

Vol. I: Von der Urgemeinde zur frichristlichen Grosskirche, 3rd ed.

© Verlag Herder KG Freiburg im Breisgau 1962

English translation © 1965 Herder KG

AH rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced,

Printed in the United States of America

Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data

Handbuch der Kirchengeschichte. English.

History of the church.

Translation of: Handbuch der Kirchengeschichte.

Vols. previously issued under title: Handbook of

Includes bibliographies and indexes.

Constantine / by Karl Baus — — v. 3- The church in

1. Church history—Collected works. 1. Jedin, Hubert,

General Introduction T o C hurch H i s t o r y ........................................................... 1

I. The Subject Matter, Methods, Ancillary Sciences, and Divisions of Church

PART ONE: THE BEGINNINGS

Section O ne : J ewish C h r i s t i a n i t y ..................................................................................59

Chapter 1: Judaism in the Time of Jesus.............................................................................. 59

Section T wo : T he W ay I nto T he P agan W o r l d ............................................................86

Decline of the Ancient Greek and Roman Religions..........................................................86

Section Three: The Post-A postolic A g e ...................................................................... 124

PART TWO: THE GREAT CHURCH OF EARLY CHRISTIAN TIMES

Chapter 18: The Attack of the Pagan State on the C h u r c h ..........................................217

Chapter 25: The Holiness of the Christian and his C h u r c h ....................................318

Bibliography to the General In trodu ction ......................................................................435

G eneral Index To V olume I ...........................................................................................507

sections on modern times, are given in the footnotes, which we have

Hubert Jedin, Karl Baus

I t is sincerely hoped that the appearance of the English version of the

of that discipline from the lingering effects of the rationalistic attack on

ANL Ante-Nicene Christian Library (Edinburgh Collection) 1866-72.

BA The Biblical Archaeologist, New Haven, Conn. 1938 seqq.

Brehier L. Brehier, Le monde byzantin, I-III, Paris 1947-50.

CahArch Cahiers Archeologiques. Fin de VAntiquite et Moyen-age, Paris 1945 seqq.

Denzinger H. Denzinger, Enchiridion Symbolorum, Defmitionum et Declarationum de

ECatt Enciclopedia Cattolica, Rome 1949 seqq.

FC The Fathers of the Church, New York 1947 seqq.

Gams P. Gams, Series episcoporum ecclesiae catholicae, Regensburg 1S73; supple­

Gn Gnomon. Kritische Zeitschrift fiir die gesamte klassische Altertumswissen-

Hanssens J. M. Hanssens, Institutions liturgicae de Ritibus Orientalibus, I-V, Rome

IER The Irish Ecclesiastical Record, Dublin 1864 seqq.

]A Journal Asiatique, Paris 1822 seqq.

JQR The Jewish Quarterly Review, Philadelphia 1888 seqq.

K C. Kirch-L. Ueding, Enchiridion fontium historiae ecclesiasticae antiquae,

MAH Melanges d’archeologie et d’histoire, Paris 1880 seqq.

MartRom Martyrologium Romanum, ed. by H. Delehaye, Brussels 1940.

OrChr Oriens Christianus, (Leipzig) Wiesbaden 1901 seqq.

Pauly-Wissowa Paulys Realencyklopadie der klassischen Altertumswissenschaft, new ed.

PhJ Philosophisches Jahrbuch der Gorres-Gesellschaft, Fulda 1888 seqq.

R M. J. Rouet de Journel, Enchiridion Patristicum, Freiburg i. Br., 19th ed.

RQ Romische Quartalschrift fiir christliche Altertumskunde and fiir Kirchen-

SA Studia Anselmiana, Rome 1933 seqq.

TD Textus et Documenta, Series Theologica, Rome 1933-5.

Theodoret HE Theodoret, Historia Ecclesiastica, ed. by L. Parmentier, 2nd ed. by

Gams P. Gams, Series episcoporum ecclesiae catholicae, Regensburg 1S73; supple

of an editor who requested, received, and was about to publish a condem