Church History 5.22–6.6

The emperor, though he hated the Christians and was harsh toward them, was nevertheless well disposed and gentle toward the Jews. He wrote to their patriarchs and leaders and to the people itself, asking them to pray for him and his reign. He did this not, as I conjecture, because he approved of their religion — for he knew that it was, so to speak, the mother of the doctrine of the Christians, since it had the same prophets and patriarchs — but because the Jews had an implacable hatred toward the Christians, and by courting them he sought to grieve those he hated. Perhaps too he thought that they would be more readily led to paganism and sacrifices, since they understand the sacred books according to the letter only, and not, like the Christians and the wiser among themselves, by contemplation. With this in mind he set to work. Summoning the leaders of the nation, he urged them to keep the laws of Moses, reminding them of their ancestral customs. When they said that, since the temple in Jerusalem had been thrown down, it was neither lawful nor ancestral for those who had been driven from the mother city to do this elsewhere, he gave them public funds and ordered them to rebuild the temple and to worship as their forefathers had, sacrificing in the old way. They, not considering that according to the sacred prophecies this could not come about, set to the work zealously. Gathering skilled builders, they prepared the materials and cleared the site. They laboured at this with such eagerness that their women carried out the earth in their laps and readily contributed their necklaces and all their other female ornaments to the cost of the work. Everything else came second to the work, for the emperor and for all the other Jews. For some, though not well disposed toward the Jews, shared their zeal, supposing that they could succeed and prove Christ’s predictions false; while the Jews, for their part, thought that the time had come to raise up the temple. When they had taken down the remains of the former building, dug up and cleared the ground, it is said that on the next day, when they were about to lay the first foundation, a great earthquake occurred; by the shaking of the earth stones were thrown up from the foundations, and those of the Jews perished who were supervising the work and had come to watch it. For the houses near the temple and the public porticoes in which they were lodging suddenly collapsed; and most were caught, some dying at once, others found half dead and maimed in hands or legs, while others were injured in other parts of the body. When God ceased the shaking, those who were left tried the work again, since it was unavoidable because of the emperor’s order and was also to their own liking. For human nature somehow tends, in what pleases it, to lean toward what is harmful, and to think that only what it wishes to accomplish will be to its advantage; and simply overcome by the deception that arises from this, it can neither see its true interest by any foresight nor, chastened by experience of dangers, come to its senses to do what it should. Such, I think, was what happened then to the Jews. For though the first hindrance was enough and had clearly shown that the Divine was angry at what was being done, they again pursued what could not be accomplished. The account is that as soon as they set their hand to the work a second time, fire suddenly leapt up from the foundations of the temple and consumed many. And this is told and believed without hesitation by all, and is doubted by no one; except that some say that the flame met them as they were forcing their way into the temple and did what has been said, and others that it happened as soon as they began to carry out the earth. But whichever of these one accepts, each is an equal marvel. On this followed another thing, clearer and more astonishing than the former. Of their own accord the clothes of all were marked with the sign of the cross, and in a way they had their garments spangled as with stars, as if worked in by the art of weaving. From this some at once judged that Christ is God and that the renewal of the temple was not pleasing to him; and others not long after joined the church, were initiated, and with hymns and supplications sought to propitiate Christ for what they had dared. To anyone to whom these things do not seem credible, let those still alive who heard them from eyewitnesses confirm them; and let the Jews and pagans confirm them, who left the work half finished — or rather, were not even able to begin it.

What I learned of the events that befell the churches in the reign of Julian has been set out above. At the beginning of spring, having resolved to march against the Persians, Julian quickly crossed the river Euphrates. Passing by Edessa, perhaps out of hatred of its inhabitants, since this city had from the beginning been Christian to a man, he came to Carrhae, where he found a temple of Zeus, and sacrificed and prayed. After this he sent about twenty thousand armed men from the troops that followed him to the river Tigris to guard those parts and to be ready for him when needed; and he wrote to … , who was an ally of the Romans, to join him in the enemy’s country. In the letter he behaved with arrogance beyond measure, extolling himself as fit to rule and as a friend of those he considered gods, and reviling Constantius, whom he had succeeded, as unmanly and impious; and he threatened him very insolently. Since he had learned that he was a Christian, he increased the insult, and, eager to utter unlawful blasphemies against Christ — for he was accustomed to dare this on every occasion — he boasted, hinting that the one whom he held to be God would not help him if he neglected the orders given him. When he had arranged these things as he thought best, he took the Roman army through Assyria … and took by war …; and he went forward heedlessly, taking no thought for what lay behind, or that he would have to return the same way. But what he took he ravaged terribly; storehouses and other things he razed or burned. Marching along the Euphrates, he came not far from Ctesiphon. This is a great city, which now holds the palace of the Persians instead of Babylon; and the Tigris flows not far from it. Since he could not approach Ctesiphon with his ships because of the land between, and it seemed necessary either to pass by the city or to abandon the vessels, he questioned some of the prisoners and found a navigable canal that had been silted up over time; and cutting through the barrier, he drew the Euphrates into the Tigris. In this way, with the ships sailing alongside the army, he advanced on the city. When the Persians appeared on the banks of the Tigris with a great force of cavalry, infantry and elephants, he saw that his army was besieged in enemy country between two very great rivers and was in danger of perishing from hunger, whether they stayed there or returned by the same road, since the cities and villages through which they had come had been destroyed and had no provisions. So, offering prizes for horse races, he seated the soldiers to watch a horse race. Meanwhile he ordered the masters of the ships to throw away their cargoes and the army’s grain, so that the soldiers, as I have learned, seeing themselves in danger through want of provisions, might turn to boldness and fight the enemy more eagerly. After supper the emperor called together the generals and the officers, and put the soldiers on board the ships. They sailed across the Tigris by night, were already at the further banks, and began to land. Of the Persians, some perceived it, resisted, and urged one another on; and the Romans fell upon others who were still asleep. When day came they joined battle; and having lost many and killed many, they crossed the river, and for the time encamped before Ctesiphon. The emperor having decided to go no further but to return to the Roman empire, they burned the ships, since many men were kept out of the fighting to guard them, and made their way back with the river Tigris on their left. Under the guidance of the prisoners, they at first enjoyed a fertile country with every provision. But after this an old man who had chosen to die for the freedom of all the Persians, letting himself be caught on purpose as if taken against his will, was brought to the commander. Questioned about the road, and seeming to tell the truth, he persuaded them to follow him, saying he would bring the army by the quickest way to the Roman frontier; only for three or four days would the march be hard, and they would need to carry provisions for that time, as the land was desert. The emperor, led on by the words of the clever old man, decided that they must go that way. When they had gone further and after three days had entered … places, the old prisoner, under torture, confessed that he had deserted to his death for the sake of his own people, and was ready to endure everything gladly. When the army was distressed and already worn out by the length of the road and the want of provisions, a Persian force attacked. During a fierce battle a violent wind suddenly arose, covered the sky and the sun with clouds, and mixed the dust with the air. In the darkness and the thick gloom a horseman rode by, bore his spear against the emperor, struck him a mortal blow, threw him from his horse, and went away unrecognized. Some say he was a Persian, others a Saracen. There are those who maintain that he was a Roman soldier, who dealt him the blow in indignation because by his folly and rashness he had brought the army into such dangers. Libanius the Syrian sophist, who had been his close companion and friend, writes this about the one who killed him: “Who then was the slayer, someone longs to hear. I do not know the name; but that the slayer was not an enemy there is clear evidence: that no enemy was honoured for the blow. And yet the Persian king summoned by heralds the one who had killed him to receive a reward, and it would have been possible for him who came forward to obtain great things; but not even from love of rewards did anyone boast of it. And great thanks are due to the enemy that they did not claim the glory of what they had not done, but left us to seek the slayer among ourselves. For those to whom it was not profitable that he should live — and these were those who live not according to the laws — had long been plotting, and then, when they were able, they did it; their other wickedness, which had no licence under his reign, compelling them, and above all the honouring of the gods, the opposite of which they were seeking.”

Libanius, writing somewhat in this way, hints that Julian’s slayer was a Christian; and perhaps it is true. For it is not unlikely that one of those then serving in the army took to heart that the Greeks and all mankind until now praise the tyrant-slayers of old, as men who chose to die for the freedom of all and eagerly came to the defence of fellow citizens or kinsmen or friends. One could hardly blame him, either, if he showed himself brave for God and the religion he approved. As for who it was that carried out this slaying, I know nothing exactly beyond what has been said. But, as those who tell it assert in agreement, a trustworthy account has come to us that he was killed by the wrath of God. And the proof of this is a divine vision which I have learned one of his associates saw. For it is said that when this man was hastening to him in Persia, he stopped at a place on the highway and, for want of lodging, slept in the church there; and, awake or in a dream, he saw many of the apostles and prophets gathered together, lamenting the ruler’s outrage against the churches and deliberating what ought to be done. After they had debated this a long time and were, as it were, at a loss, two rose from their midst, told the others to take courage, and left the assembly in haste, as if setting out to overthrow Julian’s rule. The man who had beheld these marvels thought no more of his journey; but, anxious about how the vision would turn out, he slept there again, saw the same assembly, and saw those who on the previous night had gone out against Julian suddenly come in as if from a journey and announce to the others that he had been killed. On that same day Didymus too, the church’s philosopher who lived at Alexandria, being deeply grieved because the emperor had erred concerning religion, both for his sake as one gone astray and because of his contempt for the churches, was fasting and entreating God about this. Through his anxiety, not even taking food when night came on, he fell asleep as he sat on his chair. And as if in an ecstasy he seemed to see white horses running through the air and their riders proclaiming: “Tell Didymus: today, about this hour, Julian has been killed; and let him make this known to Athanasius the bishop, and let him rise and eat.” What the associate of Julian and the philosopher saw happened in this way, as I have learned; and neither of them missed the truth in what he saw, as was reported later. If these things do not suffice anyone as proof that he was killed by God because he was ravaging the churches, let him consider the prophecy that a churchman made beforehand. When Julian was about to march against the Persians, and threatened to harm the churches after the war, and mocked that the carpenter’s son would be able to help them not at all, the churchman declared, saying: “This carpenter’s son is making him a wooden coffin for his death.” Moreover, Julian himself after the blow somehow understood whence he had been struck and was not wholly ignorant of the cause of his calamity. For it is said that when he was wounded, he took blood from the wound and hurled it into the air, as though looking at Christ appearing and blaming him for his own slaying. Others say that, angry at the sun because it had helped the Persians, or had not saved him though it was the overseer of his birth according to some such astrological account, he showed the blood with his hand and flung it into the air. Whether, being truly about to die, as tends to happen when the soul is already separating from the body and is able to see things more divine than is possible to man, he saw Christ, I cannot say; for this account is not held by many. Yet I dare not reject it as false either; since it is not unlikely that even more marvellous things than these have happened, to show that the religion named after Christ was not established by human effort. Certainly through all the time of this reign God was seen to be angry, and he afflicted the Roman empire with calamities of every kind in many provinces. For the earth was continually shaken by very severe earthquakes and buildings fell, so that it was safe neither to stay at home nor in the open air. I conjecture from what I have learned that it was either while he was reigning, or when he was in the second rank of the empire, that the calamity befell the Alexandrians in Egypt, when the sea, having receded, came back in a rush and overstepped its own bounds and flooded the dry land far inland, so that when the water withdrew, sea-going boats were found on the roofs. Indeed, to this day the Alexandrians keep as a yearly festival the day on which this happened, which they call the birthday of the earthquake; lighting many lamps throughout the city and offering prayers of thanksgiving to God, they celebrate it very splendidly and devoutly. Moreover, droughts also set in, and in this reign ruined all the crops and the air. Hence through scarcity of provisions famine drove people to the food of beasts; and pestilence, following on it, brought its own diseases and destroyed bodies. Such were the events of Julian’s time.

After him, by common agreement of the army, Jovian received the empire. When the troops in enemy country elected him emperor, he declared that he was a Christian and refused the rule and would not accept the insignia of empire, until the army, learning the reason for his refusal, cried out that they too were Christians. As affairs were in danger and confusion from Julian’s generalship, and the army was suffering from want of provisions, he saw that it was necessary to come to terms, handing over to the Persians some of the places formerly subject to the Romans. Having learned by experience that the empire had suffered harm through the wrath of God against the emperor before him, without delay he wrote to the governors of the provinces that the people should assemble in the churches and worship God diligently, and that the faith of the Christians alone should be the object of reverence for his subjects. He also restored their exemptions to the churches and the clergy, to widows and virgins, and whatever had formerly been granted or enacted by Constantine and his sons for the benefit and honour of religion and had later been taken away under Julian. He also addressed to Secundus, who then held the prefect’s authority, a general law ordering capital punishment for anyone who tried to woo a holy virgin for marriage, or even only looked at one lustfully, still more for anyone who attempted to carry one off. He made this law because certain wicked men in Julian’s reign had celebrated marriages with such virgins, either by force or having corrupted them by persuasion, as shameful desire is wont to do, since the troubles of religion had led them to suppose that they could dare this without danger.

The inquiries and debates about doctrine were again stirred up among the heads of the churches. For during Julian’s reign, when Christianity was in danger altogether, they kept quiet, and all with one accord besought God to be merciful to them. So it somehow pleases human beings, when wronged by others, to be of one mind with those of their own kind, but when freed from evils from outside, to quarrel among themselves. But how many states and nations this has befallen it is not the present occasion to recount. About this time Basil, bishop of Ancyra, Silvanus of Tarsus, Sophronius of Pompeiopolis and those with them, who rejected the heresy of the so-called Anomoeans but accepted the term homoiousios (“of like essence”) in place of homoousios, sent a petition to the emperor, confessing their thanks to God that he had set him over the Roman empire. They asked either that what had been done at Ariminum and Seleucia should remain in force and that what had been done by the zeal and power of certain persons should be void; or, if the schism that had existed in the churches before the synods continued, that the bishops everywhere should be allowed to meet by themselves wherever they wished, with no one else taking part; and that the undertakings of those who wished to act in a partisan way or to deceive should not go forward according to their aim, as under the emperor Constantius. They explained that they had not come to the camp so as not to seem troublesome; but if they were permitted, they would gladly do so, using their own beasts and at their own expense. Such was what they wrote to the emperor Jovian. Meanwhile a synod held at Antioch in Syria confirmed the faith of those who had met at Nicaea, and it prevailed, so that the Son was held beyond dispute to be of the same essence with the Father. Meletius, who then governed the church of Antioch itself, took part in this synod, and Eusebius of Samosata, Pelagius of Laodicea in Syria, Acacius of Caesarea in Palestine, Irenion of Gaza and Athanasius of Ancyra. Having done this, they informed the emperor of their decisions, writing as follows: “To our most pious and most God-beloved lord Jovian, victorious Augustus, the synod of the bishops from various provinces assembled at Antioch. That your piety has been zealous above all to honour the peace and concord of the church we too know well, most God-beloved emperor. Nor are we unaware that you have rightly understood the stamp of the true and orthodox faith to be the chief point of such unity. Therefore, lest we be thought to be ranked with those who counterfeit the doctrines of the truth, we report to your piety that we accept and hold the faith of the holy synod gathered long ago at Nicaea. For even the term in it that seems strange to some — we mean homoousios — has received from the fathers a safe interpretation, meaning that the Son was begotten from the essence of the Father, and that he is like the Father in essence. Nor is the term ‘essence’ taken as though any passion were conceived in the ineffable generation, nor according to any Greek usage, but for the overthrow of what was impiously dared by Arius concerning the Son, that he is from things that are not; which the Anomoeans who have now appeared shamelessly proclaim with still greater boldness and daring, to the ruin of the concord of the church. We have attached to this our report a copy of the same faith set out by the bishops assembled at Nicaea, which we also cherish.” Such were the decisions of the priests then staying at Antioch, who appended in its own words to their document the faith set out by those who met at Nicaea.

At this time Athanasius too, who governed the throne of the Alexandrians, after consulting a few of his associates, thought it necessary to see the emperor, since he was a Christian; and coming to Antioch, he informed the ruler of what he needed. Others say that the emperor himself summoned him to advise on what should be done concerning religion and right belief. Having arranged the affairs of the church as well as was possible, he took thought for his return. Euzoius, the bishop of the Arian heresy at Antioch, was eager that Probatius the eunuch should preside over that belief at Alexandria. When Euzoius’s party had proposed this, a certain Lucius, an Alexandrian by birth, a presbyter of those ordained by George, approached the emperor; and slandering Athanasius as one who had always been the subject of indictments during his episcopate and had often been condemned to live in exile by the emperors before him, and as having been a cause of dissension and turmoil concerning the divine, he asked that another should oversee the church of the Alexandrians in his place. But the emperor, who knew of the plots that had then been laid against Athanasius, paid no attention to the slanders against him. He ordered Lucius, with a threat, to keep quiet; and he ordered Probatius and the eunuchs with him to be punished, as the causes of such disturbances; and Athanasius, who had become his close friend above all through their meeting at that time, he sent back to Egypt, bidding him lead the churches and the peoples as seemed best to him. For he is said to have praised him exceedingly for the virtue he had, for his life, his prudence and his eloquence … So the faith of those who met at Nicaea, which had been fought against in the intervening time, as was told above, again prevailed under the present rule. But not long afterwards it was to experience similar turmoil. For, it seems, the prophecy of the monk Antony did not have its end only in what befell the church under Constantius; there still remained what happened afterwards under Valens. For it is said that in Constantius’s reign, before those of the Arian heresy gained control of the churches, Antony saw in a dream mules kicking the altar and overturning the holy table, and at once foretold that turmoil would overtake the church through … and mixed doctrines, and a rising of those of other beliefs. And that these things were seen and spoken truly, what happened before and after showed.

Jovian, after about eight months on the throne, while on his way to Constantinople, died suddenly on the road at Dadastana, a place in Bithynia, either, as some say, from having supped too freely, or from the smell of the room in which he slept, which had been newly coated with lime. For moisture had come out and the walls had become exceedingly damp, since many coals were burning there for warmth, as it was winter. When the army reached Nicaea in Bithynia, they proclaimed Valentinian emperor, a good man and worthy of rule. He happened then to be present, having come back from exile. For it is said that when Julian ruled the Romans, he had dismissed him from the army, when he was a tribune of the unit called the Joviani, and punished him with perpetual exile: ostensibly because he had drawn up the soldiers under him improperly against the enemy, but in truth for this reason. While Julian was still among the western Gauls, he came to a temple to sacrifice, and Valentinian was with him; for it was an old custom of the Romans that the commander of the Joviani and Herculiani — these are units of picked soldiers, named the one after Heracles and the other after Zeus — should always follow close behind the emperor as guards. When he was about to cross the threshold of the temple, the priest, holding some wet branches, sprinkled those who entered, according to pagan custom. A drop fell on Valentinian’s clothing, and he was angry, for he was a Christian, and he reviled the one sprinkling. They say also that, with the emperor watching, he at once cut off and threw away, together with the drop itself, as much of his clothing as had been wetted. Julian, resenting this from then on, not long afterwards condemned him to live permanently at Melitene in Armenia, alleging as the reason his slackness with the soldiers under him. For he did not want it to seem that he was harming him for his religion, lest he be thought worthy of the honours of a martyr or a confessor. For this reason he spared the other Christians too, seeing that they gained glory and strength for the doctrine through dangers, as has been said before. When Jovian was entrusted with the rule of the Romans, Valentinian was recalled from exile to Nicaea; and since Jovian happened to die, after the army and those then holding the great offices had deliberated, Valentinian was chosen to reign by the vote of all. When he had received the insignia of rule and the soldiers cried out that he should make another his partner in the empire, he said: “To choose me to rule you, soldiers, was in your power. But now that you have chosen me, the one you now ask for is not in your power but in mine; and you who are ruled must keep quiet, and I, as emperor, must consider what is to be done.” Having addressed them so at that time, he did not yield to the soldiers. But not long after, coming to Constantinople, he proclaimed his brother emperor; and he gave him the eastern part of the empire, while he placed under himself the regions from Illyricum to the western ocean and all the mainland opposite as far as the furthest Libyans. Both were Christians in religion, but they differed in belief and in character. For Valens, having had Eudoxius the bishop as his initiator when he was baptized, was zealous for the faith of Arius and thought it a fine thing to force everyone to share his belief. Valentinian, holding the same beliefs as those who had met at Nicaea, helped them, but troubled those of other beliefs not at all.