CHRIST AND THE DAUGHTER OF JAIRUSAfter the painting by Albert Keller.
The ready faith of the Gospel women is illustrated by many narratives of miracles wrought in their behalf. The faith of Martha and Mary was rewarded by the restoration to life of their brother Lazarus. There was the woman whom physicians could not cure, yet her faith led her to touch the hem of the Master's garment, and she was made whole. To the widow of Nain, as she accompanied the dead body of her son to its sepulchre, was given that son restored to life. The despised Syrophenician woman proved her humility and her faith, and her daughter was made whole. Christ's commiseration was manifested notably to woman, though not exclusively, as we see in the case of the raising of the daughter of Jairus in answer to the father's faith.
In theProtevangelionall this is recited, but at greater length. It is there said of Mary that, while she lived in the temple, "all the house of Israel loved her." It is related also of her that she was chosen by the priests to weave the purple veil for the temple. In this writing, Mary is described as having received the announcement of the angel as she went to the spring to draw water. There is also a curious passage in which Joseph is represented as telling the experiences which came to him as he went to seek a midwife in the village of Bethlehem. "As I was going," he says, "I looked up into the air, and I saw the clouds astonished, and the fowls of the air stopping in the midst of their flight. And I looked down toward the earth, and saw a table spread, and working people sitting around it, but their hands were upon the table, and they did not move to eat. They who had meat in their mouths did not eat. They who lifted their hands up to their heads did not draw them back; and they who lifted them up to their mouths did not put anything in; but all their faces were fixed upwards. And I beheld the sheep dispersed, and yet the sheep stood still. And the shepherd lifted up his hand to smite them, and his hand continued up. And I looked unto a river, and saw the kids with their mouths close to the water, and touching it, but they did not drink."
Notwithstanding all that is said in these ancient writings in the attempt to do her honor, we must conclude that the glory of the halo which beautifies the head of the real Mary is derived by reflection from the moral splendor of her Son. Of what intrinsic greatness of soul she was possessed it is difficult for us to surmise from the slight attention given to her in the Gospels. Yet she rightly holds her position as woman idealized. We need such a poetic creation as Mary; and her place at the head of all the daughters of earth is the more secure and effective because her figure in authentic history is but a shadowy outline. The ideal woman whom all mankind loves and reverences as Virgin, Mother, and Saint, is objectified by concentrating in Mary of Nazareth all possible feminine grace, beauty, and purity.
Let us turn now to another Mary who, in the Gospel history, achieved a fame hardly less renowned than that of her great namesake: Mary of Magdala, out of whom Christ cast seven devils. Magdala was a town on the lake of Galilee, as notorious for its profligacy as it was famous for its wealth, derived from the manufacture of dyes. Mary's affliction was doubtless as much of a moral as of a mental nature; it may refer to the abandonment of immoral excess into which she was driven by her passionate nature. The Jews at the time of Christ were wont to ascribe every form of evil, physical and also spiritual, to the agency of demons, who were supposed to have the power of taking possession of human beings as a habitation. The tradition of the Church has always identified Mary Magdalene with the woman who, in Simon's house, anointed Christ's feet with ointment, after washing them with her tears. Still, it must be confessed that there is no certain foundation for this belief. On this point, Archdeacon Farrar says: "The Talmudists have much to say respecting her--her wealth, her extreme beauty, her braided locks, her shameless profligacy, her husband Pappus, and her paramour Pandera; but all that we really know of the Magdalene from Scripture is that enthusiasm of devotion and gratitude which attached her, heart and soul, to her Saviour's service. In the chapter of Saint Luke which follows the account of her anointing the Lord's feet in the Pharisee's house she is mentioned first among the women who accompanied Jesus in his wanderings, and ministered to him of their substance; and it may be that in the narrative of the incident at Simon's house her name was suppressed, out of that delicate consideration which, in other passages, makes the Evangelist suppress the original condition of Matthew."
Mary Magdalene's great part in the Gospel history was at the Resurrection. To her ardent love and intense imagination, enabling her to visualize Him who, though dead, she could not relinquish, rationalists ascribe the inception of the doctrine of the Resurrection. According to this theory, as Mary of Nazareth brought Jesus into the world, so through Mary of Magdala His risen Spirit was born into the Church. But this is not the faith of Christendom; nor can the testimony of the Gospels be reasonably disposed of in this manner. To the Magdalene was given the supreme honor of receiving the first greeting of her risen Lord; and her testimony is the chief cornerstone of the most comforting doctrine of Christianity.
The gospel narrative gives a prominent place to woman,--as a believer in Christ, as His devoted follower and constant ministrant, and also as a faithful and unswerving witness to His wondrous works. The ready faith of the Gospel women is illustrated by many narratives of miracles wrought in their behalf. The faith of Martha and Mary was rewarded by the restoration to life of their brother Lazarus. There was the woman whom physicians could not cure, yet her faith led her to touch the hem of the Master's garment and she was made whole. To the widow of Nain, as she accompanied the dead body of her son to its sepulchre, was given that son restored to life. The despised Syrophenician woman proved her humility and her faith, and her daughter was made whole. Christ's commiseration was manifested notably to woman, though not exclusively, as we see in the case of the raising of the daughter of Jairus in answer to the father's faith. In the life of Christ, the supernal event in the world's history, woman's influence and activity were not less than man's; but, unlike his, her part was marked by unalloyed purity, magnanimity, and faithfulness.
THE leaven of Christianity worked speedily and powerfully in raising woman to a position of greater honor in the estimation of the adherents of the new religion. In regard to mental and spiritual relations, it put her at once upon an equal footing with men, which was an entirely new development in human thought. We have seen how, even in Judaism,--the purest religion and the highest moral system known to the world previous to the coming of Christ,--woman held an inferior position and was debarred from many of its privileges, though not from its moral responsibilities. According to the Levitical code, when a man made an offering of any person of his family to the Lord, the value of a male was estimated at fifty shekels, while that of the female was put at thirty shekels; and, as in all cases where an arbitrary comparison is instituted between men and women, this computation was independent of the possession or lack of personal excellences. The mere undeveloped manhood in an otherwise worthless individual gave him, in Jewish estimation, a two-fifths superiority over the noblest woman. The very stupidity of this is an indication that sex can hardly have been designed by the Creator as a basis on which to found the right to the majority either of the duties or the privileges of human life. Under the new dispensation Paul says: "There can be neither Jew nor Greek; there can be neither bond nor free; there can be no male and female: for ye are all one man in Christ Jesus." That the Apostle forbade women from taking part in the public ministrations in the congregation is still regarded, by the majority of people, as being harmonious with the natural fitness of things; and in those times at least, when the education of women was so terribly neglected, it was a measure absolutely necessary to the preservation of decency.
Of the new life opened to women in Christianity, Renan truly says: "The women were naturally drawn toward a community in which the weak were surrounded by so many guarantees." Their position in the society was then humble and precarious; the widow in particular, despite several protective laws, was the most often abandoned to misery, and the least respected. Many of the doctors advocated the not giving of any religious education to women. The Talmud placed in the same category with the pests of the world the gossiping and inquisitive widow, who passed her life in chattering with her neighbors, and the virgin who wasted her time in praying. The new religion created for these disinherited unfortunates an honorable and sure asylum. Some women held most important places in the Church, and their houses served as places of meeting. As for those women who had no houses, they were formed into a species of order, or feminine presbyterial body, which also comprised virgins, who played so capital a role in the collection of alms. Institutions which are regarded as the later fruit of Christianity--congregations of women, nuns, and sisters of charity--were its first creations, the basis of its official strength, the most perfect expression of its spirit.
The Christian Church is described, as it existed in the earliest germ, in the fourteenth verse of the first chapter of Acts: "These (the eleven Apostles) all continued with one accord in prayer and supplication, with the women, and Mary the mother of Jesus, and with his brethren." The women referred to were those faithful ones who followed Jesus from Galilee and ministered to him of their substance; those who went early to the tomb on Easter morning, to perform the last offices of affection, and found the sepulchre empty: Mary Magdalene, Salome the mother of John and James, Joanna, and "the other Mary." But these are no more mentioned by name in the New Testament; nor is even the mother of Jesus again referred to, except in that impersonal manner in which Saint Paul speaks of Christ as "born of a woman." A large and prominent place was held by women in the life of Jesus, but those same women are not accorded a corresponding importance in the history of the founding of the Church. It is a new set of names that we encounter in Apostolic history; converts from heathendom, and those who labored with the Apostle to the Gentiles. The records allow the women of the Gospels to fall into obscurity; but they will never pass out of human memory as a galaxy which surrounded the Bright and Morning Star.
As yet the Church had not developed an organization, except that the Twelve--the place of Judas having been filled--were recognized as leaders by virtue of their having been chosen by Christ. The rest, women equally with men, were simply believers. Even the Apostles had no plan, no foresight of future development. Officers were created only as conditions arose which required them. At first the Church was simply a communistic family, bound together in holy love by a common enthusiasm. The ordinary conventions of society were for the time suspended; men and women lived together in the free communion of a great family. Their time was almost wholly spent in prayer and the work of conversion; the ordinary avocations of life were almost entirely discontinued. The community was supported out of a common stock, which was daily replenished by the proceeds of the sale of the possessions of converts. No one called his own anything that he had; they held all in common. Their number was too great for a common table, but they met in large parties at each other's houses, none suffering disparagement on account of condition or sex. Each evening meal was a commemoration of the Last Supper of Christ with his disciples. This briefly enduring prototype of a perfect human society contained in itself the prophecy of all that Christianity would do for woman through all the slow development of the ages. In the community of the Jerusalem Christians she was neither a slave nor a subordinate. The burden of the daily provision, which still falls so heavily on the vast majority of women, was here rendered extremely light, for all helped each and each helped all. Equal fellowship also in the great spiritual possession caused all the marks of woman's inferiority to vanish, and the sexes freely mingled in a pure and noble companionship.
But this perfect type of society was not destined long to endure. It appeared only for a brief season, barely sufficient to intimate what human life might be, if governed by the Spirit of Jesus; and then a woman was accessory to a deed which showed that the ideal was as yet far too high for a practical and prudent world. Sapphira and Ananias had sold their possession and had laid a part of the price at the Apostles' feet, under the pretence that they were devoting their all. "Tell me," said Saint Peter, "did ye sell the land for so much?" "Yes," answered Sapphira, faithful to the conspiracy she had entered into with her husband, "that was the amount." "Ye have agreed together to lie unto God," said the Apostle. "The feet of them who have buried thy husband are at the door; they shall carry thee out also." And she immediately "gave up the ghost." And the young men carried her out and buried her by her husband. The description of the burying seems to indicate that it was done as quietly as possible, probably so as not to attract the attention of the people. But great fear of the power of the Apostles seized those who heard the rumor of these happenings. It is not a pleasant story, and it jars on a conscience in which the memory of the Gospel teaching is fresh and vivid. Yet the Church was not so strong in itself but that it needed to resort to drastic measures in order to protect itself from covetous hypocrisy within, more to be feared than violent persecution from without. As to the pathological cause of the death of Sapphira and her husband, no explanation is given. In the market place of a town in Wiltshire, England, there is a remarkable stone monument, which was erected by the corporation to commemorate a "judgment" which took place on the spot many years ago. According to the lengthy inscription engraved upon the column, three women had agreed to purchase a certain quantity of flour, each contributing her share of the price. A dispute arose, owing to one having declared that she had paid her part, though the amount could not be accounted for. Being accused of trying to cheat, she exclaimed that she wished she might fall dead if she were not telling the truth. She immediately fell to the ground and expired, whereupon the money was found upon her person. Those who caused the inscription to be written for the warning of future marketers believed it to be a "judgment." Doubtless it was the effect of excitement upon a pathological condition of the heart. The comparison between this case and that of Sapphira and Ananias is weakened only by the strange fact that husband and wife should, on the same day, meet death in this remarkable manner. It is perhaps worthy of notice that Herodias and Sapphira are the only women mentioned by name in the New Testament against whom anything discreditable is charged.
As the number of believers increased in Jerusalem, trouble was encountered in regard to the daily provision. The communistic plan of living was by no means rigidly insisted upon, as is shown by the fact that Peter admits that Ananias was not obliged to make an offering of the whole or even of a part of the price of his possession. Converts were added too rapidly, and their organization was too loose for the perfecting of any economical system. We see, however, the congregation making careful provision for the indigent by a daily distribution.
There were in Jerusalem many Hellenistic Jews; that is, those who were reared in foreign countries or were born of parents so reared. The Palestinian Jew affected a distinct superiority over these. This seems to have been allowed to result in a slight showing of ill will between the native and foreign-born Jews who accepted Christ. The latter found cause to complain that their widows were neglected in the daily distribution; this seems to indicate that the widows were supported out of the revenues of the Church, a fact which quickly resulted in their being considered in the service of the Church. We find the widows early mentioned in a sort of corporate capacity. In the account of the raising of Dorcas, who was probably herself of this condition of life, it is said that Peter called "the saints and the widows." From this narrative we are led to infer that the manufacture of garments for the poor was recognized as the contribution of these women to the corporate activity of the Church. It was the inception of a distinctly female order in the Christian ministry.
In order that there should be no cause for complaint on the ground mentioned above, the Apostles instructed the whole body of believers to select from their number seven men, to whom should be intrusted the charitable work of the Church. These men were not deacons, in the sense in which this term has come to be applied, nor are they thus termed anywhere in the Acts of the Apostles. The office remained, but the duties changed; after the breaking up of the Christian community in Jerusalem by persecution, these "deacons" devoted themselves to the more attractive work of preaching, and from this time the ministry of good works fell naturally into the hands of the women.
Very early in the history of the Church there came into existence an order of female deacons, or deaconesses. It is more particularly in the Gentile congregations planted by Paul that we find this institution. In his Epistle to the Romans, among many other matters of a personal interest, we find the Apostle saying: "I commend unto you Phoebe our sister, who is a deaconess of the church that is at Cenchreas;" and he requests them to receive her worthily of the saints and to assist her in whatsoever matter she may have in hand, for that she "hath been a succorer of many, and of mine own self." It is extremely probable that Phoebe was the bearer of this letter to the Romans. She may have been travelling to the city on affairs of her own, or it may be that Paul is referring to some commission from the Church which had been imparted to her by word of mouth.
He also sends greeting to Tryphaena and Tryphosa, who, with Persis, were probably deaconesses serving the church at Rome. Euodias and Syntyche, who are mentioned in the Epistle to the Philippians, were, there is every reason to believe, in this same order of the ministry. The Apostle testifies to the earnest cooperation in his work for which he is indebted to these two women; but from his exhortation that they "be of the same mind," we may infer that there was some disagreement among them. Absolute harmony was not always maintained, even among the saints of the early Church. Saintliness has never yet been able entirely to eradicate from human nature all that is unseemly; and it is more than likely that if it were only possible for us to gain an intimate and personal knowledge of the conditions which prevailed in the Apostolic Church, we should not be greatly discouraged by a comparison of those days with our own times. The glamour of extraordinary holiness which succeeding centuries have thrown over that age was not perceptible to Paul. The lapse of time is of itself sufficient to idealize, and even to apotheosize, remarkable personages who in reality were not without their weaknesses.
What were the precise duties of these female servants we do not know. In the uncrystallized organism of early Christianity it is likely that their field of activity was not closely defined. From the Apostle's rule we know that they did not take part in the public ministrations. "Let the women," says he, "keep silence in the churches." In his idea of Christianity, the family is the unit, with the man as the responsible head. "If they would learn anything, let them ask their own husbands at home; for it is shameful for a woman to speak in the church." And yet, in what he says in the eleventh chapter of his first Epistle to the Church at Corinth, he seems to admit that the women have the right both to pray and prophesy in the congregation. But it may be the Apostle is judging the question not asper se, but in accordance with the prevailing ideas of his time. He who was "all things to all men," in order to win them, concluded that it was the duty of women to keep silent rather than to arouse prejudice by trampling on custom and thus endangering the success of the Gospel. The women of the Corinthian Church seem to have abandoned the traditions of their time and people in this respect and were in the habit of praying and prophesying in the congregation, and, moreover, without the customary veil. In regard to this last-mentioned departure, Paul is emphatic: "Every woman praying or prophesying with her head unveiled dishonoreth her head. Judge ye among yourselves, is it seemly that a woman pray unto God unveiled?" On this subject Dr. McGiffert comments as follows: "The practice, which was so out of accord with the custom of the age, was evidently a result of the desire to put into practice Paul's principle that in Christ all differences of rank, station, sex, and age are done away. But Paul, in spite of his principle, opposed the practice. His opposition in the present case was doubtless due in part to traditional prejudice, in part to fear that so radical a departure from the common custom might bring disrepute upon the Church, and even promote disorder and licentiousness. But he found a basis for his opposition in the fact that by creation the woman was made subject to the man. Paul's use of such an argument from the natural order of things, when it was a fundamental principle with him that in the spiritual realm the natural is displaced and destroyed, must have sounded strange to the Corinthians; and Paul himself evidently felt the weakness of the argument and its inconsistency with his general principles, for he closed with an appeal to the custom of the churches: 'We have no such custom, neither have the churches of God,' therefore you have no right to adopt it. This was the most he could say. Evidently he was on uncertain ground."
Those same restrictive traditions, which prevented the deaconesses from taking part in public instruction or ministering in the congregation, rendered their service imperatively necessary in many of the private activities of the Christian Church. They instructed female catechumens in the first principles of the new religion; they prepared them for baptism, and by their attendance disarmed inimical criticism when this sacrament was administered to women. To their hands was committed the ministry of mercy. They relieved the sick, instructed the orphans, consoled their sisters when in trouble, encouraged those who were condemned to martyrdom, and were the official embodiment of that characteristic fraternalism in the early Church which induced even their heathen enemies to exclaim: "How these Christians love."
It was not essential that a woman appointed to the office of a deaconess should be free to devote her whole time to the service of the Church. The two slave girls whom Pliny examined by torture upon the rack, and of whom he wrote to the Emperor Trajan, were very probably deaconesses. The order was composed of virgins who were tried and trained by a life of chastity and devotion and finally set apart to the office at the mature age of forty; or--and this was more commonly the case--of devout and sober-minded widows. In all probability Paul is referring to this order in that which he says of widows in his first letter to Timothy. There he writes: "Let none be enrolled as a widow under threescore years old, having been the wife of one man, well reported of for good works; if she hath brought up children, if she hath used hospitality to strangers, if she hath washed the saints' feet, if she hath relieved the afflicted, if she hath diligently followed every good work. But younger widows refuse: for when they have waxed wanton against Christ, they desire to marry; having condemnation, because they have rejected their first faith. And withal they learn also to be idle, going about from house to house; and not only idle, but tattlers also and busybodies, speaking things which they ought not. I desire therefore that the younger women marry, bear children, rule the household, give none occasion to the adversary for reviling."
It is very remarkable that we seem to be left to infer from the above that the Apostle's indictment as to idling, tattling, gadding, and meddling is not to be charged against widows of over threescore.
Some students have held that the passage quoted above refers, not to deaconesses, but to a sort of female presbyters, like those who in the age succeeding that of the Apostles had a certain oversight over the widows and orphans of the congregations. On the other hand, Neander, the ecclesiastical historian, considers that the widows referred to were simply those who depended upon the Church for support and were consequently expected to manifest their worthiness by an example of special devoutness. But it is hardly believable that the Christian conscience would have refused such assistance to widows under sixty years of age or to those who had married the second time and had been again widowed. The probabilities are in favor of the view that all indigent and unfortunate Christian females were tenderly cared for by the charity which abounded in the Apostolic Church; but from those widows who had arrived at the age of sixty, and had shown themselves to be fitted for such an office by especial devotion to good works and by their approved trustworthiness, certain ones were enrolled for the service of the Church in the order of deaconesses.
Thus one of the earliest effects of Christianity was to introduce into its own society, in every city, an order of women who were looked up to with respect and veneration and intrusted with power and authority such as no women had previously enjoyed, except in the almost unique instances of the vestals at Rome and the prophetesses among the ancient Germans. This could not fail to raise the whole sex in general respect, as well as in its own estimation.
As we have already noticed, the order of deaconesses did not consist exclusively of widows; it was, however, confined to those females who were free from all matrimonial obligations.
In the early Church, celibacy was held in exceeding high regard. Other qualifications being equal, virginity greatly increased a woman's reputation for sanctity. It is true that it is not until post-apostolic times that we find this condition of life exalted to the contradiction both of the laws of nature and the dictates of reason; but the foundation for the belief that the virgin life is superior to the married state was unquestionably laid by Paul himself. While he readily admits that marriage is honorable, he, at the same time, enthusiastically recommends celibacy to those who are able to persevere in continence. To the Corinthians he wrote: "He that giveth [a daughter] in marriage doeth well; but he that giveth her not in marriage doeth better." Whence arose this idea of the moral superiority of virginity? Surely not from Judaism; for among the Jews an unmarried woman was regarded as being to the greatest degree unblessed. Nor did it come from paganism; for though there were vestal devotees of the deities, the materialism which governed Greek and Roman religion entirely precluded any belief in a moral inferiority as resulting from the rightful intercourse of the sexes. In the rebound from the materialism of paganism, Christianity swung the thought of its adherents to the opposite extreme. The body was considered as hopelessly corrupt until regenerated by the resurrection. It is a dead weight, retarding the development and the triumph of the spirit; its natural functions are tainted with evil and should be ignored and mortified so far as necessity will permit. The contemplation of the terrible licentiousness which characterized paganism gave a great bias to the views of the early Christians on this subject. The asceticism of celibacy seemed to them an easier way to escape the contamination of the world than that which led through the honorable path of married life.
In the seventh chapter of Paul's first letter to the Corinthians he is wholly on the side of celibacy, though he was far too reasonable a man not to recognize the possibility of purity in marriage. "I say to the unmarried and to widows, it is good for them if they abide even as I. But if they have not continency, let them marry." It is very probable that the Apostle was a widower; for very few Jews of his time lived without marrying to the age which we may reasonably suppose he had attained before his conversion. He also says: "Now concerning virgins I have no commandment of the Lord; but I give my judgment, as one that hath obtained mercy of the Lord to be faithful." We are to understand this mercy of which he speaks, not as referring to any deliverance from past marital encumbrances, but to the gift of faithfulness. Then he says that in view of the present distress from persecution, while it is good to be married, it is at least not less good to be single. "But and if thou marry, thou hast not sinned; and if a virgin marry, she hath not sinned. Yet such shall have tribulation in the flesh, and I would spare you." The tribulation he speaks of refers to the double portion of the "present distress" to which the married would be subject. His principal argument in favor of the unwedded state is that those who remain in it are enabled to devote themselves more completely to the service of God.
But there was no sign in the Apostolic Church of that morbid enthusiasm for virginity which fills the pages of the post-Nicene writers. We know that Peter was married; and there is evidence that he took his wife with him on his missionary journeys. "Have we not," says Paul, "power to lead about a sister, a wife, as well as other apostles, and the brothers of the Lord, and Cephas?" Tradition also informs us that Peter had a daughter whose name was Petronilla. The Apostle Philip had three daughters. Eusebius quotes from a letter written by Polycrates, who was bishop of the church at Ephesus, to Victor, Bishop of Rome, in which he says: "Philip, one of the twelve Apostles, sleeps in Hierapolis, and his two aged virgin daughters. Another of his daughters, who lived in the Holy Spirit, rests at Ephesus." Eusebius also in the same passage speaks, on the authority of Proculus, of "four prophesying daughters of Philip;" but it is most likely that he here confounds the deacon Philip with the apostle of the same name. From Acts we learn that the former had four daughters who prophesied and labored with their father at Cæsarea in Palestine.
Paul, in his Epistles, gives the names of about eighty friends and disciples; about twenty more are referred to in the Acts of the Apostles. Quite a large proportion of these are women, to whom the Apostle sends kindly greeting. His mention of them is always in the terms of respectful regard, and never merely complimentary or carefully polite. To many of these women he was deeply indebted for the care with which they had ministered to his comfort as he journeyed to and fro on his missionary tours; the names of some of them were treasured in his memory as those of zealous and valued fellow laborers in the cause of the Gospel. In both these relations, and also, perhaps, in that of his dearest female friend, stood Priscilla, the wife of Aquila. She is the most frequently mentioned of all the women of the Apostolic Church, but always in conjunction with her husband. These people were Jews whose home was at Rome, but owing to the edict by which Claudius banished from the city all of their nationality they were living in Corinth when Paul first met them. In the Acts of the Apostles we learn that he was drawn to them because they were tent-makers like himself. "He abode with them and they wrought.... And he reasoned in the synagogue every Sabbath." In this picture is seen the whole simple machinery of apostolic missions. Paul's first inquiry in Corinth is for a man of his own trade. He hears of Priscilla and Aquila, and at once finds with them a welcome both to lodging and also employment. Their work was such as could be readily carried on in the room which served for a lodging, and required but little in the way of implements, so that they could freely and easily move from one city to another. The work probably consisted in the making of tent cloth. This material was of goats' hair, which was plaited into strips, these being joined together. We see the three sitting together, and, with hands busy at the monotonous toil, which was not exacting in the matter of attention, reasoning of the things pertaining to the kingdom of God. It was probably thus that the conversion of this husband and wife was brought about. Then on the Sabbath they would repair to the Jewish synagogue, where Paul would in public expound the new and strange doctrine. We can imagine how Priscilla would prepare for that week-end preaching. There would be no Jewess within her circle of acquaintances but would receive notice, with the admonition not to fail to be present. It is the inception of the "woman's auxiliary" in missionary work; but how simple was this first propaganda!
There was no board of managers either to hamper or advise; the workers were responsible only to the spirit that moved within them. There were no collections, nor any hindrance for lack of funds. Paul, Aquila, and Priscilla labored with their own hands, and they were free and enabled to go everywhere preaching the Gospel. The result of their work was that in Corinth, the city devoted to a lustful worship and exemplifying the worst corruptions of paganism, there was to be seen a band of men and women whose lives were glorified and purified by devotion to the teachings of Jesus.
It is noteworthy that the name of Priscilla is placed in the book of Acts, and also elsewhere, before that of her husband. Possibly this may indicate that she was of a higher rank or a nobler family; but we prefer to think that it is a tribute and a testimony to her zeal and greater prominence in the Church. It is not unlikely that Aquila was known as the husband of the successful female missionary Priscilla.
When the Apostle left Corinth these two fellow workers accompanied him as far as Ephesus. There he left them, with affectionate promises to return. Priscilla and Aquila settled in Ephesus for a time, and an opportunity was afforded them to perform a service for the Church, the effect of which it is impossible for us now to estimate. Apollos was a great name in the Apostolic Church. He came to have a large following among the Corinthian Christians; and he was probably the author of the Epistle to the Hebrews. This man, who is described as "eloquent and mighty in the Scriptures," was by Priscilla and her husband brought to a full knowledge of the Gospel.
When Paul was writing his first letter to the Corinthians he included greetings from Priscilla and Aquila, and also "from the church that is in their house," indicating that the home of this couple was the meeting place of the Christians of Ephesus. He again mentions them in his letter to the Romans: "Greet Priscilla and Aquila, my helpers in Christ Jesus, who for my life laid down their own necks; unto whom not only I give thanks, but also all the churches of the Gentiles." It is impossible to ascertain what was the instance here referred to of their devotion to him; perhaps it relates to the experience of the Apostle when he "fought with beasts at Ephesus."
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 theActs 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 TheActs 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.
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 ofQuo 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.
They were arrested in great numbers and crowded into a prison the loathsomeness of which was itself a horrible torture. A holiday was appointed so that the whole populace might be regaled by the sufferings of these men and women. The orgy of cruelty which ensued seems beyond the power of human nature to witness, much less to inflict. It is with great reason that the early Christians looked upon Nero as the Antichrist, the one representing in his nature the infinity of opposition to the Saviour. From none of those horrors were women exempt. Like the men they were crucified; they were covered with the skins of wild beasts and mangled by dogs; and, their garments being dipped in pitch, they were converted into living torches to light the gardens at night. Clement of Rome also tells us that many Christian women were made to play the part of the Danaids and of Dirce. It was the custom to give realistic representation to mythological subjects by compelling criminals to take the part of the victim of the tragedy. Consequently, the women who represented Dirce were tied to the horns of a wild bull and dragged about the arena until they were dead. The well-known piece of ancient sculpture known as the Farnese Bull is the original tragedy pictured in stone. An inscription in Pompeii indicates that this exhibition was a common sight in the arena, women who were condemned being frequently put to death in this manner. No point likely to add to the effect of the scene was sacrificed to decency. The shame at being exposed naked, which would humiliate a Christian maiden even at the moment of impending death, simply afforded an element of jocularity to the tragedy in the eyes of that barbarous Roman multitude.
Doubtless the imperial author of these scenes took more pleasure in them than did any of his subjects. Renan thus pictures him: "As he was nearsighted, he used to put to his eye on such occasions a concave lens of 'emerald,' which served him as an eyeglass. He liked to exhibit his connoisseurship in matters of sculpture; it is said that he made brutal remarks on his mother's dead body, praising this point and criticising that. Living flesh quivering in a wild beast's jaw, or a poor shrinking girl, screening herself by a modest gesture, then tossed by a bull and cast in lifeless fragments on the gravel of the arena, must exhibit a play of form and color worthy of an artist-sense like his. Here he was, in the front row, on a low balcony, in a group of vestals and curule magistrates,--with his ill-favored countenance, his short sight, his blue eyes, his curled light-brown hair, his cruel mouth, his air like a big silly baby, at once cross and dull, open-mouthed, swollen with vanity, while brazen music throbbed in the air, turned to a bloody mist. He would, no doubt, inspect with a critic's eye the shrinking attitudes of these new Dirces; and I imagine he found a charm he had never known before in the air of resignation with which these pure-hearted girls faced their hideous death."
Were these poor women, as they awaited in prison their doom, comforted and encouraged by the presence of the Apostle charged to "feed my lambs"? We do not know. But the firmness and constancy with which they endured trials so horrible even unto death bespeak the marvellous effect of the early enthusiasm of the Christian faith. These women were in the vanguard of the Christian army which first met the deadly force of heathen opposition; and because they did not flinch, but bore the pains of martyrdom for their faith, that faith ultimately triumphed and filled the world with its light. For more than two hundred years, however, the women who embraced this faith were to live in the daily dread of the terrible cry: "The Christians to the lions."
After the death of Nero, for a time the Church was, comparatively speaking, unmolested; though as Christianity was increasing in strength, it was regarded with greater hatred on the part of the general populace. Ugly stories began to be set afloat referring to the practices of this new sect. Later on it came to be believed that its adherents were in the habit of feasting, in their secret gatherings, on the body of a newborn child. This feast was said to be followed by an entertainment in which men and women abandoned themselves to the most abominable and promiscuous licentiousness. These charges, absurd as they were, served to obliterate any ray of pity which otherwise might have visited the minds of their persecutors.
In the year 81, Domitian, whom Tertullian describes as "of Nero's type in cruelty," succeeded Titus on the imperial throne. Influenced by his suspicion of all organizations, and also by the refusal of the Jewish people to pay the capitation tax which was designed to provide for the finishing of the Capitol, he instituted a persecution of the Jews, which, for want of better knowledge on the part of the Romans, could not fail to involve the Christians. His own niece, Domitilla, who had been married to his cousin Flavius Clemens, was an avowed Christian, though up to this time the faith had made few converts among the high and mighty. Domitian banished her to the Island of Pandataria, and put to death her husband, probably on the same charge. They were accused rather vaguely of atheism and Jewish manners; but it seems probable that the Church has made no mistake in placing them among her first sufferers. This persecution by Domitian is counted as the second in the list of ten; but, though many besides Domitilla were put to death, it hardly seems possible that the persecution could have become very general, for only a few months after it began Domitian was assassinated by a freedman belonging to Domitilla, who, as Gibbon remarks, surely had not embraced the faith of his mistress.
The reign of the Emperor Trajan was, in many respects, marked by the greatest prosperity and the best administration that Rome ever enjoyed; but his strict government and close supervision, combined with his loyalty to the ancient traditions, made that reign an era of severity for the Christians. Pliny was governor of Bithynia and Pontus, and thence he wrote to the emperor informing him that the Christians were gaining headway everywhere, so much so that the temples of the gods were being forsaken by the people of all classes. He desired advice as to how he should proceed. By the application of torture to two maidservants who held the office of deaconesses in the local church he had elicited the information--for the learning of which, doubtless, torture was entirely unnecessary--that "the whole sum of their error consisted in this, that they were wont, at certain times appointed, to meet before day, and to sing hymns to one Christ their God. They also agreed among themselves to abstain from all theft, murder, and adultery; to keep their faith, and to defraud no man: which done, they departed for that time, and afterwards resorted again to take a meal in companies together, both men and women, and yet without any act of evil."
To this Trajan replied that the Christians should not be sought after, nor should anonymous accusations be received; but when they were brought before the magistrate they should be punished. A most inconsistent decision; for, as Tertullian pointed out, if they deserved to be punished when caught, they ought also to be sought after as guilty.
In the legends of the martyrs there is an account of a widow named Symphrosa who, with her seven sons, suffered death by the command of Trajan. They refused to sacrifice to the gods at his behest. First, the mother was tortured by being hung up for some time in the temple of Hercules by the hair of the head, and then drowned; afterward, her sons were by various means tortured and put to death.
We now come to the time of the philosophic emperor, Marcus Aurelius. During the reign of his predecessor, Antoninus Pius, the Christians were generally left to practise and propagate their religion in peace. Consequently, the Gospel made rapid inroads upon paganism; so much so that the latter was stirred to a more bitter opposition than had ever before been instituted. At the first glance it appears a difficult problem in moral philosophy to explain how so wise and righteous a ruler as Marcus Aurelius could bring himself to persecute so cruelly an inoffensive people like the Christians. But in the first place it must be remembered that ecclesiastic history of that time, as we have it, is very uncertain; in fact, it is greatly distorted and exaggerated. There are good reasons for believing that what is called a general persecution was confined largely to the one province of Gaul. Then it is very likely that the emperor knew but little of the character of the Christians or of the nature of their doctrines; that he held an unfavorable opinion of them is shown by his own words. It also seems to be the fact that he issued no new edict against them; but the rescript of Trajan was still in force, which was to the effect that Christians, when accused in legal form, and failing to recant, should be punished. Marcus Aurelius simply allowed this rule to be enforced by the magistrates. He saw in the Christians only stubborn recalcitrants against the established government. Whatever may have been the amount of the emperor's direct responsibility in the matter, during his reign the flame of persecution again burst out; and among many others, some women won lasting fame by the glorious constancy and courage of their martyrdom.
One of the most illustrious was Felicitas, a Roman lady of good family and the mother of seven sons. It was the policy of the magistrates not to punish unnecessarily, but to endeavor to win those who were accused to an acknowledged abandonment of their faith. In this case the judge deemed it the more efficacious method to proceed against the mother first, in the hope that in winning her to change her religion, he would have less trouble with her sons; but neither promises of freedom nor threats of total destruction of herself and her family could prevail. Then he caused each son to be brought before him separately, and endeavored both by menaces and persuasion to turn them from their allegiance. Felicitas, however, had too thoroughly instilled into her sons' minds the principles upon which her own faith and courage were founded; they were unanimous in their steadfastness. The consequence was that the mother was doomed to see her offspring executed one by one; and at last, her resolution being invincible even before this terrible trial, Felicitas herself was beheaded.
The brunt of the persecution which took place in the reign of Marcus Aurelius was borne by the Christians of Gaul, particularly those of Lyons and Vienne. We possess a good description of these sufferings in a letter which has been preserved by Eusebius, and which was sent by the survivors of these devoted churches to their brethren in the other parts of the empire. "The greatness of the tribulation in this region," says the epistle, "and the fury of the heathen against the saints, and the sufferings of the blessed witnesses, we cannot recount accurately, nor indeed could they possibly be recorded. For with all his might the adversary fell upon us, giving us a foretaste of his unbridled activity at his future coming. He endeavored in every way to practise and exercise his servants against the servants of God, not only shutting us out from houses and baths and markets, but forbidding any of us to be seen in any place whatever. But the grace of God led the conflict against him, and delivered the weak, and set them as firm pillars, able through patience to endure all the wrath of the Evil One."
The letter goes on to relate how the heathen servants of many of the Christians were arrested, and, through fear of suffering the same dreadful tortures which they saw visited upon the believers, testified falsely that the Christians were wont to indulge in the most atrocious practices. This was believed by the common people, with the result that all pity was extirpated from their breasts, and they hunted the Christians with a rage which could only be likened to that of wild beasts.
One of the most renowned of the sufferers on this occasion was the slave Blandina, "through whom Christ showed that things which appear mean and obscure and despicable to men are with God of great glory.... For while we all trembled, and her earthly mistress, who was herself also one of the witnesses, feared that on account of the weakness of her body she would be unable to make a bold confession, Blandina was filled with such power as to be delivered and raised above those who were torturing her by turns from morning until evening in every manner, so that they acknowledged that they were conquered, and could do nothing more to her. And they were astonished at her endurance, as her entire body was mangled and broken; and they testified that one of these forms of torture was sufficient to destroy life, not to speak of so many and so great sufferings. But the blessed woman, like a noble athlete, renewed her strength in her confession; and her comfort and recreation and relief from the pain of her sufferings was in exclaiming, 'I am a Christian, and there is nothing vile done by us.'"
All this torture seems to have taken place in the examination of Blandina before the tribunal; for we read how, later, she with others was taken to the amphitheatre to be exposed to the wild beasts, a spectacle having been arranged in order that the people might be regaled with the sight of the Christians' sufferings. At this exhibition the people themselves decided as to what forms of cruelties the victims should endure, shouting out their demands for the fiery stake or the beasts, as their horrible fancies dictated.
Blandina was suspended on a cross, and there left to the mercy of any of the numerous wild beasts prowling around the arena that might choose to attack her. But on this occasion she was left unmolested; and the sight of her, hanging from the stake and thus reminding them of the Master they served, as well as the prayers she continually offered, so heartened her comrades that they were the better enabled to meet their death with a good courage.
The memory of Blandina has justly been preserved through all these centuries as one of the bravest and best in the noble "army of martyrs." No doctor of theology ever bore more effective testimony to the faith; no Christian soldier ever contended more earnestly for the cause; no philosopher ever advanced a stronger argument in evidence of the truth of religion than this poor slave woman who thus suffered in the bloody arena where Christianity fought and conquered seventeen centuries ago. Women were not allowed by the law of the Church to teach in the assembly; but Blandina, from her rostrum of pain which was set up in the amphitheatre at Lyons, by her faith which could enable her to forget her own misery in the desire to cheer other sufferers, preached such a sermon as sentences of polished eloquence can never emulate.
We cannot better finish our account of this great martyr than by quoting the description of her end as it is given in the letter mentioned above. "On the last day of the contests, Blandina was again brought in, with Ponticus, a boy about fifteen years old. They had been brought every day to witness the sufferings of the others, and had been pressed to swear by the idols. But because they remained steadfast and despised them, the multitude became furious, so that they had no compassion for the youth of the boy nor respect for the sex of the woman. Therefore, they exposed them to all the terrible sufferings and took them through the entire round of torture, repeatedly urging them to swear, but being unable to effect this; for Ponticus, encouraged by his sister so that even the heathen could see that she was confirming and strengthening him, having nobly endured every torture, gave up the ghost. But the blessed Blandina, last of all, having, as a noble mother, encouraged her children and sent them before her victorious to the King, endured herself all their conflicts and hastened after them, glad and rejoicing in her departure as if called to a marriage supper; rather than cast to wild beasts. And, after the scourging, after the wild beasts, after the roasting seat, she was finally enclosed in a net, and thrown before a bull. And after being tossed about by the animal, but feeling none of the things which were happening to her, on account of her hope and firm hold upon that which had been entrusted to her, and her communion with Christ, she also was sacrificed. And the heathen themselves confessed that never among them had a woman endured so many and such terrible tortures."
The horrible circumstances attending the persecution at Lyons seem to have been largely instigated by the fury of the ungovernable mob; there are indications that the trial of Christians was oftentimes carried on in strict conformity with legal measures, and also with some show of pity on the part of the judges. The punishments in cases like these were no less severe; but there is some, comfort in thinking, inasmuch as the persecutors were members of the human race like ourselves, that they felt bound by their consciences to proceed to these extreme measures in the endeavor to put down what they believed to be a dangerous innovation. To understand persecution rightly, it is necessary not only to sympathize with the sufferers, but also, so far as is possible, to take the viewpoint of the persecutors. It is only in comparatively recent times that barbarities in legal proceedings have been discontinued. Age has not yet destroyed all the implements of torture that were considered part of the necessary furniture of a European prison. Far down in Christian times, the examination of a prisoner was considered to be very properly and justly facilitated by the application of thumbscrews and iron boots. Even our own memory is not entirely lacking in incidents where water has been used to the great discomfort of a prisoner, with the object of expediting his confession. Hence, it would be absurd to expect to find a Roman magistrate of the second century after Christ contenting himself with expostulating with those whom the laws, the traditions, and the customs of his country condemned. This failing, he would naturally try a stronger argument.