The Romans detested secrecy, and at once suspected evil. No matter how a Rorftan came unawares on these Christian meetings, he could never find an idol or a statue, no sign of a god, no sacred ornaments, no ritual going on, no altar with its fire, no sacrificial objects. The places of worship were bare. And therefore, said the Romans, the Christians must be devilishly cunning. They hid all their objects of worship. They had horrible secret rites. The tale went round, how a convert when he joined the Christian community was taken into a dark room, and given a knife, and made to strike: and how, under the heap of flour which he struck, was a hidden babe, on whose blood he was made to swear to keep secrets — and so on. These are tales which men always make up out of darkness and ignorance.
The vulgar populace of Rome hated the Christians, because they could feel the strange exulting secret of the Second Coming burning in Christian breasts. They hated them also because this secret people would not mix in with the rest. But the Christians could not mix in with the rest. Religion in those days was not a private matter that concerned a man’s private soul only. It was part of every act of public life. If a man went out to dinner, he must spill wine to the gods, and call on the deities of the house, and the deities of hospitality, to witness his service and his thanks. If a family moved to a new house, the house must be devoted to the family gods, and blessed, with a whole festival and a sacred ritual. At a wedding, a funeral, a christening, the gods were supposed to be present, men made sacrifice and wore special emblems. On certain days, all doorways must be decked with laurel, men must all wear crowns of leaves. On other days, processions with dancing passed through the streets. The great games were dedicated to the gods. Men attended the altars beforehand, brought offerings or threw sweet incense on the fire, and were sprinkled with holy water or blood of victims.
From all these things the Christians kept gloomily apart, afraid to offend their own God. They could not go to the houses of their pagan friends and relatives, nor to a wedding or funeral, nor to any festival, nor to the games. They could hardly walk in the streets without being required to pay some attention to some pagan god, throw incense on some altar. They kept gloomily and unsociably apart, they looked upon the great show of Roman daily life with dark eyes of reproach and foreboding. This gradually infuriated the sociable Romans, who lived all their life out of doors, in the porticoes of the Forum, in the baths, in the streets — or, at evening, sociably reclining round the table.
Yet the Christians were bound to keep apart. They had a curious belief that the Roman gods were really powerful demons. When Lucifer, or Satan, the bright angel, rebelled against God, and was cast out with all his rebellious host, he fell down to earth and to hell. But he had the power of appearing in disguise to the souls of men. Thus it was the great angelic demon, Lucifer, who appeared to the Greeks or Romans as the great god, the Jupiter or Jove of the Capitol. Jupiter was not a mere nothing. He was Satan himself, terribly powerful, whom the Romans worshipped. And it was Satan, under the name of Jupiter, who had given the Romans their terrible, but evil power over the world. And Satan possessed the soul of every Roman who worshipped him, or who worshipped any other of the great powerful demons, under any name — Venus, or Mars, or Neptune, or Pan, or Priapus.
So the Christians believed. And they were terribly afraid of putting their souls into the power of these living demons, the pagan gods. Men used to swear then, more solemnly than they swear now, by the name of Jupiter, or Jove. If a Christian caught himself saying, in the common fashion, ‘ By Jove!’ then he must stop himself, and pray to Jesus to save him from this same terrible Jove. The Romans said, ‘ Jupiter bless you ‘ quite commonly. But if a pagan said it to a Christian friend, the Christian must lift his hand to ward off the evil influence, and protest that Jupiter was not God.
Thus naturally there grew up in Rome a great dislike of these quiet, silent Christians, with their distant manners and humble bearing and their patient looks of reproach, and their air of secret power. And the Christians became more secret. They had various signs, amongst themselves, whereby they knew one another. If a Christian were talking with another Roman, of whom he was not sure, he might carelessly, as if unheeding, draw the shape of a fish in the dust with his toe. Then he would wait to see if the other noticed. If not, the Christian would smear out the sign. For the fish was the symbol of Jesus.
Secrecy grew on the one hand, hatred on the other. It was the vulgar crowds who hated the Christians most. And the greatest troubles came when the greatest crowds gathered together. If the Christians were timid, they trembled as the days of the great games approached. If they were fervent and fanatic, they looked forward to a chance of martyrdom. For on these days the great mob of citizens, after serving at the altars, and being inflamed with wine, would remember the silent mystery and threat of the absent Christians. For the Christians taught that men should turn away from the world, particularly the world of Rome; and this maddened the Romans. If there had been a flood, or an earthquake, or la famine some one would suggest that the Christians had caused it by their secret magic. Then up would go the great howl of a mob, a vast herd of vulgar people — ’ The Christians — the Christians — to the lions with the evil-working Christians!’ In this torrent of vulgar frenzy the governors were helpless, and many Christians were martyred.
The Roman government almost always tried to be just. But even the magistrates disliked the Christians, not for their crimes, but for their opposition to the government. The will of the father was sacred in Rome — all authority was established upon it. But if a father bade a Christian son or daughter attend any pagan festival, the youth or maiden quietly refused, which horrified the Romans. If a master bade his Christian slave attend him to the temple, the slave refused. The Christians would take no part in the government whatsoever. Even the soldiers threw away their arms, even officers threw away their swords and helmets, and loudly declared they would serve no pagan master whose soul was destined for hell, but only Christ the Lord. Such soldiers were promptly tried by martial law, and executed — as they would be to-day. But the pagan Romans were shocked. The magistrates felt that a great secret body of people was working to undermine the State altogether, and bring it down in ruin. They felt the danger. And, of course, it was a real danger. For surely it was the Christian religion finally which brought down the great pagan world into nothingness.
Still the magistrates and governors wanted to be fair. It was the people themselves who were violent and base’ — the great mob. When Pliny asked the Emperor Trajan how he should proceed, Trajan made these two wise conditions concerning the prosecution of Christians: first, that there should be no search or inquiry made about any citizen, to find out whether he were guilty of the crime of Christianity; and secondly, any person who accused another man of this crime falsely, should pay a heavy forfeit. So that, as far as the government went, the Christians were fairly safe. And again, the magistrates did not want to punish. They admitted that the lives of Christians were blameless, as far as could be proved. Later, they admired the charity of the sect, their care of the poor and helpless. They only wanted the Christians not to persevere in opposing the great Roman State. If they could only persuade a Christian prisoner to cast a few grains of incense on the altar of one of the gods, as a sign of respect for the old gods, and for the great State these gods represented, then the magistrates dismissed the accused man with praise. But alas! the Christians often preferred martyrdom — nay, they even claimed the honour of martyrdom, which would raise them up to be saints in glory. And this astonished and repelled the pagan magistrates, who could not understand, and who detested, such an attitude.
As the Christian Church grew in numbers and power, the Roman government felt the danger more, and became more strict. At first, each congregation of Christians humbly and quietly elected from their own community a minister, or presbyter, to lead them and guide them. Then, as congregations grew larger and more numerous, there must be some authority to keep them all together. So th
e worshippers elected from among the presbyters a wise, capable leader, called an episcopal presbyter, which really means an inspector. These inspectors held meetings among themselves, settling all disputes among congregations, and governing all equally. But then it was necessary to have a head even of these meetings of inspectors. So at last they decided to choose one of the oldest and wisest of the episcopal presbyters, and make him the episcopal leader or governor, for life. And thus bishops first came into being, governing the communities of Christians.
But for more than a hundred years the Christian communities were mildly and wisely governed by the humble bishops, who accounted themselves just simple Christians, with special duties to perform. They settled all troubles, and they wrote famous letters, like those of St. Paul, to the Christian groups in other great cities, Alexandria, Corinth, Antioch. So the whole Christian community kept closely in touch, and was really strong, however it was hidden and obscured under the brilliant Roman Empire.
By the end of the second century there was a large community in Italy called the Church in Italy, another in Syria, another in Africa, another in Greece. These great provinces each had its own Church, or community of Christians. It was arranged that the episcopal presbyters should meet regularly in the chief town of the province — Rome, Corinth, Antioch, as it might be — and hold councils. These councils were called synods. And at these councils the laws of the Church, called canons, were drawn up, saying how a presbyter should be elected, and how a bishop; how the Church service should be conducted, what the priest or minister should do, and what the congregation should do; also exactly what they should believe; also how the large sums of money given to the Church by the Christians should be used.
At first each town or community in Italy sent its bishop to Rome, to the synod, and all bishops were equal. But again it was inevitable that there should be one among them who stood first. And it was inevitable that this should be the bishop of the chief city, the metropolis. It came to pass that the metropolitan bishop — that is, in Italy, the bishop of the Christians in Rome; in Egypt, the bishop of the Alexandrian Christians — should be the leading Christian in the whole province. And soon, instead of advising and entreating his brother bishops, his brother Christians, the metropolitan bishop began to command them, to instruct them what they should do. He became a dictator, with a great deal of power and pride.
The Churches of the different provinces kept closely together, under the ban of the Roman Empire. But they disputed which was the leading Church. And again Rome claimed the lead. She claimed two apostles — St. Peter and St. Paul, both martyred in Rome. No other city could claim more than one. And on the merits of St. Peter the Romans established their Church, using the phrase from the Bible — ’ Thou art Peter, and on this rock I will build my church — as their justification. Rome claimed the lead. Her primate, or metropolitan, was the first of the bishops. The episcopal office, the established office of the bishop, had made each bishop equal. But now the primates or metropolitans rose above the simple bishops, and the Primate of Rome rose above the metropolitans. This took place about the end of the third century. Gradually the metropolitans became powerful as princes, and the Primate of Rome, the Father, or Papa, Pope, in time came to be almost as powerful as an emperor — indeed, at certain periods much more powerful. So there came into being an established priesthood or clergy, such as the Roman and Greek world had not known; an order of men set apart in life, having a separate, if very great power in their hands, the so-called spiritual power, or power of the Church.
Even as early as 260, Paul of Samosata, metropolitan of Antioch, aroused the indignation of the East by his rich living, palaces, slaves, splendour — his haughty pride, and his scandalous deeds. So soon was the simple, humble Christian Church changed. And as early as the third century terrible disputes tore the Churches of the East and West, Rome and Antioch. This was concerning the time when Easter should be celebrated.
Following these came worse conflicts, quarrels as to matters of fact, and as to the meaning of the Trinity. The early history of the Church, particularly in Africa and the East, is horrible with warfare and massacres between contending parties of Christians. Certainly the Christians destroyed each other in far greater numbers, and with much more terrible ferocity, than they were ever destroyed in the pagan persecutions.
Yet as the Church grew richer and stronger, the Roman government grew more strict, more frightened, more vindictive, and the Roman mob more violent. In the time of the Emperor Maximian, who was a savage soldier, and half a barbarian, there was a horrible massacre of Christians — 236 A.D. Just before this, however, under the reign of Severus, the Christians had been allowed to build their own public churches, and Christian bishops, for the first time, had attended at the Roman court. But in 249 began such a fierce persecution, that the Christians could not for two years elect a bishop of Rome, after Fabianus their primate had been martyred in 250. The emperors were now awaking to understand the strength and power of Christianity, so that either they hated the religion violently, and persecuted the Christians, or they were attracted, and definitely friendly.
In the time of Diocletian began the great persecution which the Church has called the Era of Martyrs. Yet for eighteen years that famous emperor reigned in the spirit of mildest and most .liberal religious toleration. It was Maximian and Galerius who really instituted the persecution. They were soldiers and originally ignorant peasants. They became generals and emperors at a time when Christian soldiers began publicly to throw away their arms, and declare for Christ and martyrdom. Maximian and Galerius naturally were mad with fury. Then Diocletian became terrified. He saw the power of the new sect: he knew that the Christians of that day claimed supernatural power to perform miracles. He believed they actually did perform the stupendous miracles they claimed. It terrified him. He called it magic, evil. And severe persecution began, about the year 300.
All the property of the Church was to be taken away; all the Christian writings over all the Roman world were to be delivered up, seized, and publicly burned; churches were to be levelled with the ground. When the edict was published in Nicomedia, a Christian at once tore it down, shouting his scorn of such tyrants. He was roasted over a slow fire. This was in 303. Within ten days’ time, Diocletian’s bed-chamber in Nicomedia was twice in flames. The mind of the Emperor was filled with a terrified horror of such people. Every mode of torture was put into practice to discover which of the Christians had committed the deed. Nothing could be extorted.
Even Galerius fled from Nicomedia. There was general terrible persecution.
But almost immediately Diocletian abdicated from the throne, weary of governing. Constantius and Galerius followed: Constantius always a friend of the Christians. And in 313, as we know, Constantine issued his edict of toleration. The favoured church in Constantinople was the Christian Church. Constantine was baptized just before he died.
Christianity had triumphed. For two short years, however, there was a relapse. The wise, clever, sad Julian the Apostate reigned in Constantinople from 361 to 363. He passionately wanted to restore paganism. He detested Christianity, though he was too humane to be a persecutor like Galerius. He was pierced with an arrow in the Persian war, and, dying, he is said to have grasped a handful of blood that flowed from the wound in his breast, and tossed it up to heaven, crying: ‘ Thou hast conquered, Galilean!’ Julian is the last great pagan.
In 394 Christianity was established as the only religion of the empire. In Constantinople the Church sank before the power of the Emperor. In Rome the empire collapsed, and the curious, unstable power of the popes began. Everywhere the pagan religion was prohibited. But still in country places the simple people took offerings to the hidden shrines, groves, and springs.
The Christian Church now had two centres — Rome and Constantinople. In Constantinople was the Greek church, which had no images, only flat, quaint pictures of the Mother of Jesus: the priests of the Greek church also must marry, and wear a
beard; the ruler or chief of the church was called the Patriarch. The Patriarch never acquired in Constantinople such power as the popes acquired in Rome.
As the empire collapsed in Rome and Italy, the Christians became more unsettled. There were fierce conflicts between the parties in Rome, Alexandria, Constantinople, Antioch. But gradually the great religion of the new era established itself. Rome governed the Christians of Europe and North Africa, Constantinople was head of the Church in the East until the Mohammedans arose to break her power.
Chapter IV. The Germans
In Roman days the civilised world was exposed to great inrushes of wild, savage, or barbarian life. Floods of fierce, unknown people would suddenly pour in torrent over the settled, cultivated lands of the Mediterranean. They came from two directions, north and north-east. In the due east, Persia and India were civilised and settled. In the south, the ancient civilisations of Egypt and North Africa gave no signs of new life, and the negroes from beyond the Soudan never seem to have ventured from Africa. But north of Italy were vast, unknown lands, and away to the north-east, beyond the Danube, lay all the immense, terrifying wilderness of Tartary.
The first invasions the Romans had to suffer were from the Cimbri, who crossed the Alps from Gaul. Julius Caesar, however, conquered and subdued Gaul. And now the empire found its northern limit.
Two great reservoirs of human life lay beyond the Roman power. The greatest of these was Tartary, or Scythia, that immense region stretching from the Crimea to China, where dwelt innumerable hordes of dark, wild, horse-riding Asiatics. But the nearer reservoir was the Baltic Sea, which cradled the Germanic races.
Complete Works of D.H. Lawrence Page 895