The Historians of Late Antiquity

by David Rohrbacher

  Many obstacles remained for those who claimed that Rufinus’ two books were simple transcriptions of Gelasius. Rufinus firmly claims that he himself is responsible for the material from Constantine to the death of Theodosius in the prologue to the work. There would appear to be no good reason for him to write deceptively. Even more telling are the comments of the fifth-century historian Socrates, who describes his use of Rufinus and criticizes his chronology (Soc. 2.1). It would surely be unprecedented for a Greek writer to forgo the use of the Greek original in favor of a Latin translation. Furthermore, the content of Rufinus’ work is not what we would expect from Gelasius. For example, Gelasius’ uncle and patron, Cyril of Jerusalem, is not presented in a wholly admirable light (10.24; Bihain 1962b). A large part of Rufinus’ second book concerns the monks of Egypt, whom Rufinus knew and had lived with. Gelasius, however, may never have even visited Egypt. Jacques Schamp administered the coup de grâce to the theories which argued for substantial dependence of Rufinus upon Gelasius by a close reading of the fragments preserved by Photius which demonstrated that Gelasius’ history must have ended with the death of Arius in 335 and therefore could not have been Rufinus’ source for much of his work (Schamp 1987a, 1987b). It is certain, then, that Rufinus wrote the two books from the death of Constantine to the death of Theodosius I by himself, although he may have used Gelasius sparingly, as one of his many sources.

  The original books of Rufinus have received the majority of scholarly attention, but it is worthwhile to provide a glimpse at Rufinus’ translation of Eusebius as well (Oulton 1928; Christensen 1989; Inglebert 1996: 334–9). Rufinus applies the same translation techniques to the work of Eusebius as he did for Origen. The translation is a paraphrase, with material altered for stylistic or doctrinal purposes. Rufinus’ task was complicated by the frequent obscurity or infelicity of the original Eusebian text, and by Eusebius’ penchant to wander into territory of questionable theological orthodoxy as judged by late-fourth-century standards. Rufinus, for example, translates Eusebius’ description of the Son as “second after the Holy Father” (1.2.9) as “the Lord Himself with Himself” in order to avoid Arianism, and in many other cases Rufinus adds a clarifying or explanatory note to ensure that the reader does not fall into a suspect Christology (Oulton 1928: 153–6). Rufinus claims that to translate the panegyrics of bishops in book 10 of Eusebius would be “superfluous” and would “add nothing to our knowledge,” but perhaps he truly sought to avoid presenting the Arian sentiments expressed in this section. He also suppresses doubts that Eusebius expressed about the canonicity of certain books of the New Testament (Oulton 1928: 156–8). Rufinus sometimes ignores or summarizes the documents which Eusebius reproduced, in keeping with the greater emphasis on narration which he will adopt for his two original books.

  Rufinus’ alterations of Eusebius’ original text are so numerous that his translation has been described as “an independent piece of work” (Christensen 1989: 333). He frequently breaks up Eusebius’ long sentences into several smaller ones, avoids translating parts of Eusebius which he finds unclear or superfluous, and adds explanatory notes to clarify difficult material. At times, of course, such revision has the effect of substituting Rufinus’ own ideas about the progress of Christianity for those of Eusebius. In particular, Rufinus’ changes tend to emphasize the fourth-century concerns of church hierarchy and the importance of heresy, and to de-emphasize the importance of martyrdoms (Inglebert 1996: 336).

  Rufinus has also added some new information to Eusebius’ history (Oulton 1928: 158–74). In addition to the material in the tenth book on Gregory Thaumaturgus, Rufinus provides the original Latin of Tertullian in two places. Western pride perhaps inspires his additional comment that Tertullian was “the most noble of writers” (6.43). It is not surprising to learn that he expands upon Eusebius’ account of Origen, drawing from his own wide knowledge of the theologian. Personal knowledge allowed Rufinus to augment Eusebius by the addition of certain topographical and historical details. Rufinus also added details to Eusebius’ accounts of martyrdoms. Comparison between Rufinus’ account of the martyrdoms of Phileas and Philoromus and the extant Acts of the martyrs demonstrates that Rufinus had used these Acts as a source (8.9). Rufinus’ addition of significant details to other martyrdoms from Eusebius’ work may likewise depend on martyr Acts no longer extant.

  Rufinus provides a brief preface to his translation. He addresses his remarks to Chromatius, bishop of Aquileia, who had asked him to provide a distraction for the Aquileians, who are disturbed by the incursions of the Goths into Italy. Despite the dedication, the work does not seem to be particularly designed for the community at Aquileia, nor does Rufinus say that Chromatius had requested specifically an Ecclesiastical History. Rufinus may have already begun work on this historical translation and addendum before the request, which merely served as the proximate cause for its publication (Ventura 1992: 8–20). Rufinus expresses concern that his Latin skills may not be up to the task of the translation, but this should be understood as a conventional rather than a serious worry. Equally conventional is Rufinus’ claim that the material for his new books was drawn partly from the writings of others, and partly from his own memory. He concludes with a comparison of his work to the five loaves and two small fishes with which Jesus fed the multitude (John 6: 1–14): the ten books of Eusebius correspond to the loaves, and his two additional books correspond to the fish. Rufinus suggests that his work will nourish the faith of his readers as the loaves and fishes nourished their recipients.

  The tenth book of the Ecclesiastical History, the first of Rufinus’ two books, is dominated by the struggles between those holding homoousian and homoiousian understandings of the Trinity. The other themes of Rufinus’ work are interspersed throughout the main narrative of book 10. Among the topics treated are sketches of noteworthy holy men, struggles against paganism and Judaism, the expansion of Christianity into foreign territories, and a few mentions of secular events. All of these themes can also be found in book 11, although in different proportions. In this second book, the struggle against paganism provides the main theme. The tenth book culminates in the death of Julian and the failure of the plan he inspired to rebuild the Jewish Temple in Jerusalem. With the accession of Jovian which begins the eleventh book, Rufinus celebrates the return of the army and the state to Christianity. The history concludes with a series of decisive blows against paganism: the destruction of the temple of Serapis in Egypt, the destruction of other pagan shrines in Alexandria, and the defeat of the usurper Eugenius by the emperor Theodosius, which is portrayed as the victory of Christianity over paganism.

  Françoise Thélamon, the premier modern interpreter of Rufinus’ historical work, has described the Historia Ecclesiastica as a “sacred history” (Thélamon 1979, 1981, 1992). Rufinus has carefully selected and framed his topics to demonstrate his belief that history provides evidence of the working of God in time, and that history has a progressive, if fitful, movement toward the fulfillment of a divine plan. Eusebius had described the divinely inspired spread of Christianity and the transformation of Christianity from persecuted religion to imperial power with the conversion of Constantine; Rufinus traces the spread of Christianity outside of the boundaries of the empire, and the conquest of its twin enemies, heresy and paganism, under the guidance of Theodosius.

  Rufinus’ strong ideological purpose seems to have encouraged him to alter the chronology of some of the events in his history in order to fit his presuppositions. For example, Rufinus portrays the reign of Constantine as an especially holy period, as symbolized by the prominent space given the discovery of the True Cross by the emperor’s mother Helena (10.8). Discreditable details of his career, such as the execution of his son Crispus, are effaced, as they had been by Eusebius. By contrast, the reign of the Arian emperor Constantius II, Constantine’s son and successor, is connected with strife and decline. It appears that Rufinus has placed the mission to the kingdom of Aksum, which took place under Con
stantius, in the reign of Constantine, in order to credit the orthodox emperor with the glory of evangelizing (10.10; Thélamon 1981: 60–2). For similar reasons Rufinus distorted the timing of events in the careers of Athanasius and Arius. Although Constantine, toward the end of his life, had allowed Arius to reconcile with the church, and had sent Athanasius into exile, Rufinus moves these events into the time of Constantius II. Arius’ death, which should be dated to 336, is likewise necessarily pushed forward in time into the reign of Constantius. It is presumably these misstatements which the historian Socrates complains about (2.1), and which he had to correct in his own work by reference to works of Athanasius and others.

  Athanasius is the hero of the first book of Rufinus’ history. As a child he was observed baptizing as a pretend-bishop, and as an adult he struggled against “nations, kingdoms, and armies” in his fight for orthodoxy (10.15). While in hiding, he managed to evade capture through miraculous means, and God granted him the perfect words during an audience before the emperor (10.20). His virtue was enhanced by his persecution by both Arian emperors and by the pagan Julian, who had been originally conciliatory (10.33–5). The emperor Valens, later a persecutor of homoousians, was divinely restrained while Athanasius lived (11.2), and at Athanasius’ death, the bishop was succeeded by Lucius, a bloodthirsty monster (11.3).

  One way that God continued to work in history, according to Rufinus’ vision, was through the performance of miracles by holy men. Paphnutius had been mutilated during the persecution of the emperor Maximian, but miracles “arose through him no less than through the apostles long ago” (10.4). He was renowned for his healings and exorcisms, and the emperor Constantine demonstrated his respect by frequent kisses on the bishop’s empty eye socket. The words Rufinus chooses to describe the miracles of Paphnutius are carefully chosen to echo scriptural passages describing the acts of the apostles and of Jesus himself. Rufinus similarly uses biblical phraseology to describe the miracles of the monks of Egypt (11.4; Thélamon 1981: 376–402).

  Rufinus is our major and sometimes only source about several cases of the spread of Christianity outside of the borders of the empire, including Ethiopia (10.9–10), Georgia (10.11), and Arabia (11.6). The historical veracity of his details is not always possible to ascertain, but he clearly reveals his belief in the progressive and inevitable spread of Christianity throughout the world. He also provides a new paradigm for the barbarian, for in his work the apparently uncivilized and dangerous outsider may turn out to be the most pure and devout Christian.

  Eusebius’ ecclesiastical history had been innovative in its frequent presentation of original documents, such as creeds and imperial letters. Rufinus very rarely indulges in this innovation. He reproduces the Nicene Creed (10.6), but otherwise Rufinus stands apart from Eusebius and from successors like Socrates and Sozomen, who also frequently reproduce documents of all sorts. Such documents allow the reader to engage in the kind of scrupulous exegesis typical of contemporary theological dispute, and Rufinus’ rejection of documents may be seen as a reflection of the anti-intellectual message he presents in his history. He often contrasts the excessive cleverness of heretics and pagans with the pure and simple faith of monks or ordinary Christians. Perhaps Rufinus’ experiences in the Origenist controversies had strengthened his distaste for theological argument, although the triumph of simplicity would be a major theme in the successor church histories as well. In the beginning of his history Rufinus points to the importance of “simplicity of faith” for the orthodox resisters to the Arians, who were “cunning in debates” (10.2). When a pagan philosopher debated bishops at Nicaea, his rhetorical skill left the Christians embarrassed and unable to respond. But the recitation of foundational Christian beliefs by a “simple” man was enough to convert the philosopher, who is convinced not by words, but by the irresistible power which came out of the speaker’s mouth (10.3). Heretics trick simple western Christians by demanding whether they prefer “homoousios or Christ”; in their ignorance of Greek philosophical terms, they naturally prefer Christ (10.22). The pagan priests of Egypt, whose power is destroyed at the end of Rufinus’ work, also manipulate by means of their mystification. The priest of Saturn, Tyrannus, used deception to convince well-born women that they were serving the god when he was raping them. The exposure of his fraud led many pagans to destroy idols and shrines (11.25).

  The continuing struggle against paganism is a major theme of the Ecclesiastical History. Just as the reign of Constantine was presented by Rufinus as especially holy, so too was the reign of Theodosius. Although Theodosius’ anti-pagan initiatives included legislation and temple destruction around the empire, Rufinus chooses to focus narrowly upon events in Alexandria, which culminate in the destruction of the great temple to Serapis and its reconsecration to Christ. Thélamon speculates that Egypt’s renown for paganism in both biblical and Greco-Roman tradition, and perhaps the familiarity with Isiac religion among Rufinus’ immediate audience in Aquileia, may have made Egypt an appropriate symbol for paganism as a whole. Although Rufinus does not mention his sources for the events, Sophronius, a student of Jerome, is known to have written about Alexandria, and Rufinus may have found his work a ready source of information (Thélamon 1981: 160–2, 260–3).

  Rufinus begins with a description of a pitched battle in Alexandria, during which pagans fortified a temple and forced Christians to sacrifice. After numerous woundings and killings, the Roman government suppressed the violence and the pagans fled (11.22). Rufinus then describes the magnificence of the temple and cult statue of Serapis, carefully describing the tricks using light and magnets designed to impress worshippers. Despite a pagan rumor that the sky would fall if the cult statue were damaged, a pious soldier dramatically struck it with an axe, and then with a cry many joined in to chop and burn the statue to pieces. That ended “the vain superstition and ancient error of Serapis” (11.23). Although Rufinus has been selective in the details of Serapis worship which he relates, comparison with other ancient sources and with archaeology suggests that he has provided many reliable details on the cult (Thélamon 1981: 165–205). Further destruction of temples and looting of their shrines uncovered evidence of horrible pagan crimes, such as the murder of children, which Rufinus claims led many pagans to embrace Christianity (11.24–6). These temples were then leveled and the areas dedicated to the Christian god, and all traces of Serapis on buildings were removed and replaced with crosses (11.27–9). Rufinus’ account of the events in Egypt concludes with the triumphant proof of the superiority of Christianity over paganism. The tools to measure the extent of the Nile’s flood had customarily been brought to the Serapeum, since the god was the guarantor of the seasonal flow. Though pagans feared that the destruction of Serapis would lead to a disruption in the river’s rise, divine beneficence assured that the flood was more abundant than it had been in many years (11.30).

  The momentum of the chapters of the history which dramatically detail the destruction of temples prepares the reader for the conclusion of the work, the victory of Theodosius over paganism at the Battle of the Frigidus River. The victory over the pagan gods in their historic Egyptian heartland is paralleled by this victory on the battlefield. Rufinus portrays the battle entirely as a contest of Christian against pagan, although Eugenius, the emperor installed in the west, was himself a Christian. Thus, in place of Eugenius, he presents the arch-pagan Nicomachus Flavianus as Theodosius’ primary opposition. The emperor is portrayed as a Christian champion, who is credited with handing control of churches over to homoousians and offering copious resources for building and refurbishing churches (11.19). Even his ordering of a massacre at Thessalonica (attributed to demons) was the occasion for his new and “amazing” law requiring a thirty-day “cooling-off period” before commands of emperors are carried out (11.18). When Theodosius prepared for battle, Rufinus tells us that he first sought God’s will through the monk John, who prophesied victory (11.32). Then the two sides underwent spiritual preparations: Theodosius
’ men prayed and sought help from martyrs and saints, while the pagans performed constant animal sacrifices. Rufinus claims that Nicomachus Flavianus committed suicide not from despair over the military failure, but because of his realization that his religion was false, and others of the usurping force defected to Theodosius. The final battle went poorly at first for Theodosius, who was observing from high on a rock, until he prostrated himself and prayed to God for help. His prayer evokes both biblical models, such as Judas Maccabee, and classical models, such as Aeneas (Courcelle 1969; Thélamon 1981: 318–20). A fierce and divinely inspired wind arose with such force that the enemy’s weapons were blown back into their lines, and they were defeated. The pagans who survived, says Rufinus, were chagrined and ashamed at the failure of their gods (11.33).

  The repeated use made of Rufinus’ History by later writers is proof of its popularity and success. While Rufinus drew upon Eusebius for the genre and its primary themes, his exploration of those themes in the post-Constantinian world created a new model for church history in a Christian state. The twin battles against heresy and paganism, the power of simplicity and monasticism in the face of sophistry and traditional hierarchy, and the expansion of Christianity among the barbarians are themes that successor church historians would take for granted. His translation of Eusebius brought the history of the early church and the progressive view of world history to those without Greek. The barbarian invasions had the potential to raise questions about the idealized Eusebian view of historical progress, and Rufinus’ work was designed to refute these concerns by its emphasis on Christian victory. His idealized portraits of numerous figures of the fourth century, such as Constantine, Athanasius, and Theodosius, became standard in later writers. The work became one of the very few in Latin to both be a source for later Greek writers and to be translated into Greek itself.