Part 5
There dwelt in the Macedonian city of Philippi a woman named Lydia, who had come there from Thyatira. She was engaged in the business of selling purple, whether the color itself or garments so dyed cannot be determined; but as women of that time were often employed in the manufacture of drugs and chemicals, it is likely that she prepared that dye which was so popular in the ancient Roman world. She had become a convert to Judaism. There seem to have been few Jews in Philippi, for it is evident that they had no synagogue, but were in the habit of meeting in the open air, on the banks of the river Strymon. Lydia, like many of the women of her time, was an earnest seeker after religious truth. When Paul came to Philippi, on the first Sabbath he went to the place of prayer, "and spake unto the women which resorted thither." This is a remarkable expression, inasmuch as it seems to indicate that only women were present, an extremely unusual congregation in the ancient world. But Paul, unlike the Jewish rabbis, did not deem a gathering of women unworthy of his most solicitous efforts. Lydia justified his exertions, for she became a convert to Christianity and was baptized with her whole household. She was a person of considerable means. The selling of purple was a very remunerative business. In gratitude for the new light which she had received, and desirous to learn more of the Gospel, Lydia importuned the Apostle and his friends to take up their abode in her house, which, at least for the time, became the gathering place of the church in Philippi.
There is no possibility of overestimating the debt that Christianity owes to the fostering care of the early female converts. Its story has never been written from the standpoint of the women; if it could be so written, it would be seen that the labors of love which were accomplished by the feminine nature were no less fruitful than those which are recorded of the more public masculine activities.
While Paul was in Philippi, he encountered another woman, of a station and occupation very different from that of Lydia. She was a slave girl, who was in all probability what is known nowadays as a clairvoyant. The people believed that she was inspired by the Pythian Apollo. The narrative in the Acts of the Apostles says that she "was possessed of a spirit of divination," and that "she brought her masters much gain by soothsaying." There seems to have been a company or syndicate which, by means of the mysterious powers of this girl, traded upon the superstitions of the people. But Christianity was in opposition to this form of spiritualism. The girl, we are told, followed Paul and his friends and gave loud testimony to their divine mission. Very likely she heard the Apostle's preaching, and received an impression that resulted, owing to the peculiar condition of her mind, in an acute perception of the true character of the missionaries. Paul, however, had no desire to be introduced by any such medium as this. He exorcised the evil spirit which, according to Jewish notions, possessed the damsel; that is, by the influence of suggestion probably, he freed the girl from the thraldom of the abnormal condition of mind which had hitherto made her doubly a slave.
While we are engaged with the subject of Paul's female converts and acquaintances, it ought not to seem out of place if we give a little notice to that remarkable piece of literature which was popular in the early Church, and is known as the _Acts of Paul and Thecla_. It is certain that the main facts set forth in this legend were credited by such prominent ancient writers and theologians as Cyprian, Eusebius, Augustin, Gregory Nazianzin, Chrysostom, and Severus Sulpitius. Chrysostom especially gives a very clear indication of his belief in the story of Paul and Thecla. Basil of Seleucia wrote the history of Thecla in verse. Baronius, Archbishop Wake, and also the learned Grabe consider the facts as being authentic history. On the other hand, Tertullian says that it was forged by a presbyter of Asia, who confessed that he invented the account out of respect for Paul. And again, it is held that The _Acts of Paul and Thecla_, as we have it, is not the original book of the early Christians.
At any rate, even though it be nothing more than an imaginative creation, inasmuch as an account of Thecla and her companionship with Paul was extant early as the second century, as is proved by its being mentioned by Tertullian, it is surely worthy of attention for it shows, at a time so contiguous, how the age of the Apostles was pictured.
The scene is laid in the beginning at Iconium, whither Paul had fled from Antioch in Pisidia, as is related in the thirteenth chapter of the Acts of the Apostles. There he is received by Onesiphorus and Lectra his wife. In their house the Apostle preaches. At a window in a nearby house sits the young maiden Thecla. She hears Paul's words, and is so captivated by his discourse that nothing can tear her away. As her mother says, she is there continuously, "like a spider's web fastened to the window." At this rather long range the Gospel teaching takes effect in her heart, and she becomes a convert to Christianity. Her mother and Thamyris, her lover, endeavor by various means to divert her mind from these things; but it is all in vain. Thamyris, chagrined because the maiden no longer loves him, procures the arrest and imprisonment of Paul. Thecla, by bribing the jailers with her ear-rings and silver looking-glass, procures admittance to the prison, where she is still more firmly established in the faith.
On being found by her relatives, and refusing to marry Thamyris, she is ordered to be burned at the stake; but in a miraculous manner the fire is extinguished and Thecla is preserved. In the meantime, Paul, being banished from the city, takes refuge with Onesiphorus and his family, in a cave. There Thecla finds him, and begs to be allowed to accompany him in his travels. They go on to Antioch, where Alexander, a magistrate, falls in love with Thecla's beauty, and because she resists his advances she is condemned to be thrown to the wild beasts.
While she is waiting for the day on which her sentence is to be executed, Thecla implores the governor that she may be preserved from the unchaste designs of Alexander. To this end the governor gives her into the charge of Trifina, a noble matron of the city. The maiden gains not only the affection of Trifina, but also the sympathy of all the women who learn of her unfortunate fate. When the time comes for her to be thrown to the beasts, they refuse to attack her; and even though she is tied to wild bulls, she is miraculously saved. Alarmed by this wonder, the magistrate releases her, and she is adopted by Trifina.
"So Thecla went with Trifina, and was entertained there a few days, teaching her the word of the Lord, whereby many young women were converted; and there was great joy in the family of Trifina. But Thecla longed to see Paul, and enquired and sent everywhere to find him; and when at length she was informed that he was at Myra, in Lycia, she took with her many young men and women; and putting on a girdle, and dressing herself in the habit of a man, she went to him to Myra, and there found Paul preaching the word of God.
"Then Paul took her, and led her to the house of Hermes; and Thecla related to Paul all that had befallen her in Antioch, insomuch that Paul exceedingly wondered, and all who heard were confirmed in the faith, and prayed for Trifina's happiness. Then Thecla arose, and said to Paul, 'I am going to Iconium.' Paul replied to her, 'Go, and teach the word of the Lord.' But Trifina had sent large sums of money to Paul, and also clothing by the hands of Thecla, for the relief of the poor."
After this no further mention is made of the Apostle. Thecla returns to Iconium, where she endeavors to convert her mother, but with no success. Taking up her abode in the cave where she first talked with Paul, she lives a virgin life and attains to a great age, doing many marvellous works and acquiring a great fame for sanctity.
This is a brief summary of the story which, whether it be fact or fancy, was devoutly believed by many of the earliest Fathers of the Church.
The Apostle to the Gentiles wrote: "Not many wise after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble are called." The Gospel of the Galilean Carpenter found an eager reception chiefly among the humble; the names of Lydia and Priscilla are those of workingwomen. Some of the names of women that Paul mentions in his Epistles are those of bondservants. His acquaintances in the houses of the great were among the menials. But Christianity ennobled those to whom it came. We know nothing of Chloe of Corinth, of Claudia of Rome, of Euodias, of Syntyche, of Persis, of Phoebe, or of Damaris, except that they were among the first workers, the charter members of the Church; their names are engraved ineffaceably upon the foundations of the Faith. In an especial manner these women were working for the uplifting of their sex. They were pioneers who first ventured in that movement which inevitably brings enlargement of life for all womankind.
Yet Christianity was not wholly without its witnesses among the women of the higher ranks of society. If Acte, Nero's freedwoman, really were a Christian,--and it is strange that such a tradition should have arisen without a foundation in fact,--she could not have been without an influence upon the noble ladies with whom she was thrown into contact. Pomponia Græcina was brought to trial for embracing a foreign religion. This, in after ages, was believed to be Christianity; and it is certainly possible that Sienkievicz's splendid portrayal of her as a Christian matron is not wholly beside the mark.
A little later, in the time of Domitian, we know that Christianity invaded the imperial household. Domatilla, the niece of the emperor and the wife of the noble Flavius Clemens, was an avowed Christian, and for the sake of her faith was banished to the island of Pandataria, which had been made the prison of women of far different character.
III
THE ERA OF PERSECUTION
PERSECUTION of the early Christians was preordained by some of the most prominent and essential qualities of human nature. Every new habit of thought is at first looked upon with dislike. Political and religious innovations are especially regarded with disfavor, because their promulgation necessarily involves the disadvantage of official adherents of prevailing systems, as well as the causing of that most disagreeable form of mental irritation which follows upon the breaking in upon the inertia of long-established prejudices.
Christianity was calculated to arouse determined opposition both from the political and also the religious forces of the empire. It was looked upon as a menace to the state and a dishonor to the gods. Rome was extremely tolerant of new religions, and its policy was to allow the people of its widely diversified conquests to retain their traditional forms and objects of worship; but the Roman deities must not know disrespect, and the most fair-minded emperors could comprehend no reason, except a treasonable one, why subjects should scruple to render obedience to the statutes commanding that divine honors should be paid to their imperial selves. But the very genius of Christianity necessitated absolute intolerance of other religious cults. The worshippers of Cybele or Isis had not the least objection to paying their devotions to Vesta on the way to their own favorite temple; the women who besought Mars for the victory of their husbands, absent with the legions, freely offered incense before the statue of the emperor who sent forth those legions; but, for the Christians, to give Christ a place among the national deities was to do Him the greatest dishonor and to commit mortal sin, and to burn a handful of incense before the statue of the emperor was wicked idolatry and entailed the forfeiture of eternal salvation. Their missionary zeal compelled them to manifest the contempt in which they held the pagan gods, and thus the Christians laid themselves open to the charge of atheism as well as to that of treason. As Gibbon says: "By embracing the faith of the Gospel the Christians incurred the supposed guilt of an unnatural and unpardonable offence. They dissolved the sacred ties of custom and education, violated the religious institutions of their country, and presumptuously despised whatever their fathers had believed as true, or had reverenced as sacred." And inasmuch as the religion of the state was a part of the constitution of the state, their resolute rejection of it marked them, in the eyes of the rulers, as enemies of the state.
As the history of martyrdom is in almost every instance written by the friends of the sufferers, the motive of the persecutors is usually represented as wanton cruelty, while in fact it frequently was the case that the civil magistrate honestly deemed himself to be carrying out necessary precautions for the welfare of society. This assertion, which tends to the defence of the credit of human nature, can confidently be made in regard to most cases of official persecution. "Revere the gods in everyway according to ancestral laws," said Maecenas to Augustus, "and compel others so to revere them. Those, however, who introduce anything foreign in this respect, hate and punish, not only for the sake of the gods,--want of reverence toward whom argues want of reverence toward everything else,--but because such, in that they introduce new divinities, mislead many also to adopt foreign laws. Thence come conspiracies and secret leagues which are in the highest degree opposed to monarchy." Julius Paulus laid down as a fundamental principle in Roman law: "Such as introduce new religions, whose bearing and nature are not understood, by which the minds of men are disquieted, should, if they are of the higher ranks, be transported; if of the lower, be punished with death." To a Roman the state was everything; individual liberty could only run in such courses as were parallel with the policy of the state. Those who retained a sincere belief in the ancient deities worshipped them as the patrons and guardians of the imperial destinies; the philosophical sceptics were no less inclined to insist upon that worship as a thing of political necessity, a means of binding the unintelligent in loyalty to the government.
In view of this, it is not to be wondered at that the contemptuous attitude which the Christians manifested to the ancient religions seemed to some of the wisest Romans to be nothing other than a stubborn fanaticism, concealing a hateful antagonism to society. Their meetings, which persecution necessarily made secret, were believed to be treasonable; their resolute isolation from the common amusements, which were deeply tainted with vice, caused them to be stigmatized as haters of mankind; the mystery which surrounded their worship provided a ready acceptance for the popular slander that in their secret gatherings the worst atrocities were perpetrated. To such men as Trajan and Marcus Aurelius, all this seemed a spreading evil to be determinedly stamped out.
On the other hand, it is true that the persecution of the Christians was taken advantage of to minister to the lust for spectacles of blood and agony which degraded the ancient world. There were the lions waiting; there were Christians who deserved death: why waste so good an opportunity to make a characteristic "Roman holiday."
We are appalled at the remembrance of civilized savagery which could delight in the sight of helpless women and tender maidens torn by beasts or writhing in the fire; and yet, almost equal cruelty, though not perpetrated in the same spirit, has been witnessed at so recent a date, and at the hands of "Christians," that we can hardly with a good grace reproach paganism for its atrocities of this kind. The potential "devilishness" which is in human nature is surely one of its prime mysteries.
In the literature of Christian martyrdom it is frequently assumed that there were ten general persecutions; but, as Mosheim says, this number is not verified by the ancient history of the Church. For if, by these persecutions, such only are meant as were singularly severe and universal throughout the Empire, then it is certain that these amount not to the number above mentioned. And if we take the provincial and less remarkable persecutions into the account, they far exceed it. The idea that the Church was to suffer ten great calamities arose from an interpretation of certain passages of Scripture, particularly one in Revelations.
In these days of gentler manners and easier faith, we are hardly more amazed at the cruelties which were enacted to abolish Christianity than we are astonished at the fortitude with which its adherents endured them. Never did punishment so signally fail as a deterrent. The Church grew most rapidly when to be a Christian almost certainly ensured martyrdom. It is a marvellous history, that of the three hundred years of struggle between Christianity and paganism, in which all earthly considerations were abandoned for a conception of morality and for a faith in the existence of a life beyond the grave. The same spirit has always characterized Christianity, but never with such enduring persistence or with such success as in the early days.
In the records of this struggle it is abundantly shown that women were not spared, nor did they bear their part with less honor or courage than the men. It was in the Church as it has been in all history: while the government and the superior fame are awarded to one sex, equality in the opportunity and in the endurance of suffering are not denied to the other. The weaker sex has never been inferior in the ability to bear pain, or in the courage to go cheerfully to a martyr's death. It was no more common for women under the stress of torture to relinquish their faithfulness than for men. In the enthusiasm born of their hope in the Gospel, it was as much the wont of young virgins to meet the lion's eye without flinching as it was that of wise and venerable bishops.
The first principal persecution took place under Nero. There is no sign of any general edict by him against the Christians; so it is probable that the severities in this reign were confined to Rome. It is even doubtful if Nero cherished any purpose of suppressing Christianity. He found the Christians the most convenient victims for a charge of burning the city; so he satisfied the people by affixing the guilt to these hated sectaries, and at the same time amused the idle Roman populace by an unusual exhibition.
There is no mention of the names of those who suffered under the imperial actor; but there is no doubt there were many women in the number. Doubtless, some of those women to whom Paul sent greeting and gave other mention in his Epistle suffered at this time. Though their names are not recorded in the chronicles of martyrdom, the blood of many of the Apostle's feminine friends at Rome helped to cement the foundation of the Church. Of all the tragedies witnessed by the City of the Seven Hills, in which women had taken a part, none was so significant as this. The wives and daughters of kings, consuls, and emperors had met death in the pursuit of ambitious projects. To them the fatal violence of tyrants meant hopeless failure; to these Christian women, who belonged to the lowest walks of society, it meant glorious success. When those died, their ambitions ended; when these perished, the faith which they so bravely confessed was only made stronger by their sufferings.
It is not unlikely that Poppæa, the wife of Nero, may have played an important part in this persecution. The Christians encountered as bitter opposition from the Jews as from the heathen. The fellow countrymen of Paul frequently succeeded in stirring up the animosity of the rulers against him and the other teachers of the new religion. While, as a rule, they themselves were extremely obnoxious to the Romans, it happened that at this time they had a powerful friend in the wife of the tyrant. Josephus relates how Poppæa befriended him, and he is enthusiastic in his praise of her "religious nature." So it may very likely have been--as the gifted author of _Quo Vadis?_ describes--that the accusation of firing the city was fastened upon the Christians by the instrumentality of the Jews, and that Nero found a readier access to this welcome expedient through the counsel of Poppæa.
No description could be more vivid, or more trustworthy,--seeing that his prejudice is entirely against the Christians,--than that given by Tacitus of the cruelties perpetrated by Nero upon the followers of Christ. "He inflicted the most exquisite tortures on those men (we know from other evidence that there was no discrimination in regard to sex in these sufferings) who, under the vulgar appellation of Christians, were already branded with deserved infamy. They derived their name and origin from Christ, who in the reign of Tiberius had suffered death by the sentence of Pontius Pilate. For a while this dire superstition was checked; but it again burst forth; and not only spread itself over Judæa, the first seat of this mischievous sect, but was even introduced into Rome, the common asylum which receives and protects whatever is impure, whatever is atrocious. The confessions of those who were seized discovered a great multitude of their accomplices, and they were all convicted, not so much for the crime of setting fire to the city as for their hatred of human kind. They died in torments, and their torments were embittered by insult and derision. Some were nailed on crosses; others sewn up in skins of wild beasts, and exposed to the fury of dogs; others again, smeared over with combustible materials, were used as torches to illuminate the darkness of the night. The gardens of Nero were destined for the melancholy spectacle, which was accompanied with a horse-race, and honored with the presence of the emperor, who mingled with the populace in the dress and attitude of a charioteer. The guilt of the Christians deserved indeed the most exemplary punishment, but the public abhorrence was changed into commiseration, from the opinion that those unhappy wretches were sacrificed, not so much to the public welfare as to the cruelty of a jealous tyrant." Gibbon, commenting on this passage, adds the reflection that in the strange revolutions of history those same gardens of Nero have become the site of the triumph and abuse of the persecuted religion. Where the first Roman followers of the Galilean Carpenter suffered for their confession, the successors of Peter exert a world-embracing hierarchical sway and a power far surpassing that of the greatest emperor.
No nation besides Rome ever systematically turned the torture of criminals into a popular pastime; but there the people had become so accustomed to the butchery of human beings in the public games that nothing was so welcome as a new device for heightening the effect of agonized death throes, except a large supply of judicially condemned men and women on whom to prove it. Nero had good reason to be well assured that he would not incur the displeasure of the people by condemning the Christians to the circus and the amphitheatre.