Catholic Philosophy

Christianity in the First Four Centuries

In its early days, Christianity was preached by Jews among Jews as a reformed Judaism. Saint James, and to a lesser extent Saint Peter, wished for Christianity not to extend beyond this, and their perspective might have prevailed had it not been for the resolute stance of Saint Paul, who advocated for the inclusion of Gentiles in Christian communities without requiring circumcision or adherence to the Mosaic law. The conflict between these two factions is reflected in the Acts of the Apostles from a Pauline perspective. The Christian communities established in various places by Saint Paul undoubtedly consisted partly of converted Jews and partly of Gentiles seeking a new faith. The confidence inherent in Judaism made it appealing in an era of crumbling beliefs, but the demand for circumcision served as a barrier for those wishing to convert. The ceremonial laws regarding food also posed challenges. Even these two impediments alone, absent any others, would have been sufficient to render the transformation of Judaism into a world religion nearly impossible. Christianity, thanks to Saint Paul, preserved what was appealing in the doctrines of the Jews while simultaneously rejecting those aspects that were most difficult for Gentiles to accept.

However, the notion of the Jews as the chosen people remained intolerable to Greek pride. This idea was resolutely rejected by the Gnostics. Gnostics (or at least some of them) adhered to a belief that the material world was created by a lesser god named Yaldabaoth, a rebellious son of Sophia (heavenly wisdom). They claimed that this was the Yahweh mentioned in the Old Testament, and the serpent was not an embodiment of vice but rather a warning to Eve against the deceitful insinuations of Yaldabaoth. For a long time, the supreme god allowed Yaldabaoth freedom of action; but eventually, he sent his son to temporarily inhabit the body of Jesus and liberate the world from the false teachings of Moses. Adherents of this view, or something similar, typically combined it with Platonic philosophy; Plotinus, as we have seen, encountered significant difficulties in his attempt to refute it. Gnosticism offered a potential compromise between philosophical paganism and Christianity, as it integrated the veneration of Christ with hostility towards the Jews. This characteristic was also evident in later Manichaeism, through which Saint Augustine ultimately arrived at the Catholic faith. Manichaeism fused Christian and Zoroastrian elements; it manifested in the conception of evil as a positive principle embodied in matter, in contrast to the good principle embodied in spirit. Manichaeism condemned the consumption of meat and physical relations with women, even within marriage. Such intermediate doctrines greatly facilitated the gradual conversion of cultural strata whose native tongue was Greek; however, the New Testament warns true believers against these teachings: “O Timothy! Guard what has been entrusted to you, avoiding the profane and idle babblings and contradictions of what is falsely called knowledge [Gnosis], for by professing it some have strayed concerning the faith.”

The rise of Gnostic and Manichaean movements persisted until Christianity became the state religion. After this, they had to conceal their beliefs but continued to exert underground influence. One doctrine from a peculiar sect of Gnostics was appropriated by Muhammad. These Gnostics taught that Jesus was an ordinary man and that the “Son of God” inhabited him at his baptism and left him during his crucifixion. To support their view, they cited the text: “My God! My God! Why have you forsaken me?”—a text that has always posed challenges for Christians. The Gnostics believed that being born, being a child, and, most importantly, dying on the cross were unworthy of the Son of God; they asserted that all this happened to the human Jesus, not to the divine Son of God. Muhammad, who acknowledged Jesus as a prophet, albeit not of divine origin, could not accept that prophets met with a bad end, perhaps out of a sense of prophetic solidarity. Therefore, he adopted the Docetic view (from the Gnostic sect) that what hung on the cross was merely a phantom, upon which the powerless revenge of the Jews and Romans was wreaked in their helplessness and ignorance. In this way, certain elements of Gnosticism transitioned into the orthodox doctrine of Islam.

The attitude of Christians towards contemporary Jews quickly took on a hostile character. According to the prevailing view, God spoke to the patriarchs and prophets, who were holy men, and foretold the coming of Christ; but when Christ appeared, the Jews failed to recognize Him and henceforth were to be regarded as a malevolent people. Moreover, Christ abrogated the Mosaic law, replacing it with two commandments: to love God and one’s neighbor; yet the Jews, in their perversion, could not acknowledge even this. And as soon as Christianity became the state religion, anti-Semitism in its medieval form emerged, nominally as an expression of Christian zeal. To what extent economic motives, which later fueled anti-Semitism, were already at work in this Christianized empire is seemingly impossible to ascertain.

As Christianity Hellenized, it also became increasingly theological. Jewish theology was always characterized by simplicity. Yahweh evolved from a tribal god to the one all-powerful God who created heaven and earth; the triumph of divine justice, when it became evident that it did not bestow earthly prosperity on the righteous, was transferred to the heavens, leading to a belief in immortality. However, throughout its evolution, Jewish doctrine never included anything complex or metaphysical; it was devoid of mysteries and accessible to the understanding of any Jew.

This Jewish simplicity is generally still characteristic of the synoptic gospels (of Matthew, Mark, and Luke), but it has vanished entirely from the Gospel of John, where Christ is identified with the Platonic-Stoic Logos. The fourth evangelist is interested not so much in the human Jesus as in the theological Christ. This is even more true concerning the Church Fathers; it is telling that in their writings, we find far more references to the Gospel of John than to the other three gospels combined. The Letters of Saint Paul also contain much theology, particularly concerning salvation; at the same time, they attest to the author's familiarity with Greek culture: there is a quotation from Menander, and Epimenides of Crete is mentioned (who is known for the saying that all Cretans are liars), among others. Nonetheless, Saint Paul declares: “Beware, brethren, lest anyone cheat you through philosophy and empty deceit.”

The synthesis of Greek philosophy and ancient Jewish Scripture remained largely incidental and fragmented until the time of Origen (185—254 CE). Origen, like Philo, lived in Alexandria, which, due to its trade and university, was the main center of scholarly syncretism from the founding of the city until its fall. Like his contemporary Plotinus, Origen was a student of Ammonius Saccas, whom many regard as the founder of Neoplatonism. The doctrines of Origen, as presented in his work “De principiis,” reveal significant similarities to the doctrines of Plotinus—indeed, more than is compatible with orthodoxy.

Origen asserts that in the world, there is nothing entirely incorporeal except for God—the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. The stars are living, rational beings endowed with souls by God, existing prior to the emergence of rational creatures. In his view, the sun can indeed fall into sin. The souls of humans, akin to the teachings of Plato, enter them at birth from the surrounding environment, where they have existed since the creation of the world. A distinction is made, as in the philosophy of Plotinus, between nous and soul. When nous falls into sin, it becomes soul; conversely, a soul adhering to the path of virtue becomes nous. Ultimately, all spirits will fully submit to the authority of Christ and will then be incorporeal. Even the devil will eventually be saved.

Though Origen was recognized as one of the Fathers of the Church, in later times he faced accusations of four heretical views:

1. The pre-existence of souls, as posited by Plato.
2. The belief that not only the divine but also the human nature of Christ existed before the Incarnation.
3. The notion that at the resurrection, our bodies will transform into entirely ethereal forms.
4. The idea that all people, even the devils, will ultimately be saved.

St. Jerome, having somewhat imprudently expressed his admiration for Origen due to his work on establishing the text of the Old Testament, later deemed it prudent to devote much time and fervor to refuting his theological errors.

Origen's errors were not solely of a theological nature; in his youth, he committed an irreparable mistake resulting from an overly literal interpretation of the text: “And there are eunuchs, who have made themselves eunuchs for the kingdom of heaven.” The method to which Origen so recklessly resorted to avoid the temptations of the flesh was condemned by the Church; moreover, it deprived him of the opportunity to receive the priesthood, although some clerics apparently held a different view, thus sparking needless disputes.

The most substantial work of Origen is a book titled "Against Celsus." Celsus was the author of a now-lost work directed against Christianity, and Origen undertook to respond to him point by point. The first accusation that Celsus levels against Christians is that they belong to an unlawful community. Origen does not dispute this but declares that such membership is a virtue, akin to tyrannicide. He then addresses what was undoubtedly a valid ground for antipathy towards Christianity: Celsus asserts that Christianity owes its origin to the Jews, who are barbarians; and only the Greeks can extract meaning from the teachings of barbarians. Origen counters that indeed, any person who comes from Greek philosophy to the Gospels will conclude that they are true and will provide evidence sufficient to satisfy the Greek mind. Yet, he continues, within the Gospels lies a proof of its own, more divine than any proof derived through Greek dialectics. This more divine method is referred to by the apostle as “the manifestation of the Spirit and power”; “Spirit,” for the prophecies contained in the Gospels are sufficient in themselves to inspire faith in anyone reading them, especially concerning Christ; and “power,” for we must believe that the signs and wonders recounted in the Gospels indeed took place for many reasons, not least because their traces still endure in those who lead their lives in accordance with the teachings of the Gospel.

The interest of this passage lies in its dual argumentation for faith, characteristic of Christian philosophy. On one hand, pure reason, when properly applied, is sufficient in itself to establish the foundations of Christian faith, particularly elements such as God, immortality, and free will. But on the other hand, Sacred Scripture proves not only these bare foundations but immeasurably more; the divine inspiration of Sacred Scripture is evidenced by the prophets who foretold the coming of the Messiah based on the miracles and the beneficial impact that faith has on the lives of believers. Some of these arguments are now considered outdated, yet the last was employed even in our time by William James. Until the Renaissance, there was no Christian philosopher who did not accept these arguments.

Some of Origen's arguments are quite curious. For instance, he claims that magicians invoke “the God of Abraham,” often without even knowing who He is; yet, apparently, this invocation is particularly effective. Names hold significance in magic; it matters greatly whether God is called by His Hebrew, Egyptian, Babylonian, Greek, or Brahmanic name. Magical formulas lose their efficacy when translated into another language. Upon reading all this, one might surmise that the magicians of that time used formulas borrowed from all known religions, but that, if Origen’s account is to be believed, those derived from ancient Hebrew sources were deemed the most effective. This argument is all the more curious, given that Origen himself points to the prohibition of magic by Moses.

According to Origen, Christians should not partake in the governance of the state, limiting themselves to participating in the governance of “the divine people,” that is, the Church. Of course, after Constantine, this doctrine underwent some modifications, but certain elements of it have survived. It is implied in St. Augustine's work "On the City of God." During the period when the Western Empire was crumbling, this doctrine encouraged representatives of the Church to view worldly misfortunes with indifference; they dedicated their considerable talents to strengthening ecclesiastical discipline, engaging in theological disputes, and promoting monasticism. To some extent, traces of this doctrine have persisted to our day: most people view politics as “worldly affairs,” unworthy of a truly holy individual.

In the first three centuries, ecclesiastical governance developed rather slowly, but this process significantly accelerated after Constantine's conversion to Christianity. Bishops were elected by popular vote; gradually, they concentrated significant power over Christians within their dioceses, yet until the time of Constantine, there was hardly any form of central governance on a scale encompassing the entire Church. The growing power of bishops in large cities was facilitated by the established custom of almsgiving: the donations of believers were managed by the bishop, who had the authority to bestow or withhold charity from the poor. Consequently, crowds of impoverished individuals emerged, ready to fulfill any whim of the bishop. Once Christianity became the state religion, bishops were endowed with legal and administrative functions. Central ecclesiastical governance also emerged, at least concerning doctrinal matters. Constantine was irritated by the disputes between Christians and Arians; having allied himself with the Christians, he sought to see them as a united faction. To end the schism, he commanded the convening of the First Ecumenical Council at Nicaea, which produced the Nicene Creed and, concerning the polemics with the Arians, established standards for orthodoxy for all time. Thereafter, similar disputes were resolved by ecumenical councils, until the division between East and West and the refusal of the East to recognize the authority of the Pope rendered the convening of such councils impossible.

Though officially the popes were regarded as the most significant figures in the Church, they held no authority over the Church as a whole; such power was acquired much later. The gradual rise of papal authority is a fascinating theme, which I shall address in the forthcoming chapters.

The process of Christianity’s growth up to Constantine, as well as the motives behind Constantine's conversion, have been variously interpreted by different authors. Gibbon identifies five reasons:

“1. The unwavering and, if we may be allowed to express it so, intolerant zeal of the Christians, a truth borrowed from the Jewish religion but purified of the spirit of exclusivity and contentiousness that, instead of attracting pagans under the law of Moses, repelled them from it.
2. The doctrine of the afterlife, augmented by various additional considerations capable of imparting weight and effectiveness to this vital truth.
3. The ability to perform miracles, attributed to the primitive Church.
4. The pure and austere morality of Christians.
5. The unity and discipline of the Christian republic, gradually forming a self-sustaining and ever-expanding state at the very heart of the Roman Empire.”

This explanation can generally be accepted, albeit with some reservations. The first reason—the unwavering and intolerant zeal borrowed from the Jews—can be accepted unconditionally. Even today, we can witness the advantages of intolerance in propagation. Christians largely believed that they alone would attain heaven, while dreadful punishments awaited the pagans in the afterlife. This threatening character was not present in other religions that competed with Christianity during the third century. Take, for example, the worshippers of the cult of the Great Mother; one of their rites—the taurobolium—was analogous to baptism; however, they did not preach that those who did not undergo this rite would descend into hell. It is worth noting that the taurobolium was a rather expensive rite: it required the sacrifice of a bull, whose blood was to be sprinkled on the convert. Such a rite possesses an aristocratic character and cannot serve as the foundation for a religion striving to attract significant masses—both rich and poor, free and enslaved. In this regard, Christianity held an undeniable advantage over all competing religions.

As for the doctrine of the afterlife, its earliest proponents in the West were the Orphics, who borrowed it from Greek philosophers. The ancient Hebrew prophets (or rather, some of them) proposed the idea of bodily resurrection, but the belief in the resurrection of the spirit was apparently adopted by the Jews from the Greeks.

In Greece, the doctrine of immortality took on a popular form in Orphism and a scholarly one in Platonism. Platonism could not gain widespread acceptance among the masses, as it was based on arguments difficult to comprehend; yet the Orphic form of the doctrine likely exerted significant influence on the views of the masses during late antiquity, not only among pagans but also among Jews and Christians. Substantial elements of mystical religions—both Orphic and Asian—found their way into Christian theology; in all these religions, the central myth is that of the dying and resurrecting god. Therefore, I believe that the doctrine of immortality must have played a lesser role in the spread of Christianity than Gibbon suggested.

Miracles undoubtedly played a very important role in the Christian mission. However, during late antiquity, miracles were commonplace and not the privilege of any one religion. Thus, it is not so straightforward to understand why, in this competition, Christian miracles garnered greater trust than those of other sects. I think Gibbon overlooks one significant circumstance: namely, that Christians possessed “sacred texts.” Christians appealed to miracles that originated in the deep antiquity of a people regarded as mysterious in the ancient world; these texts presented a coherent narrative beginning from the creation of the world, according to which providence unfailingly wrought miracles—first for the Jews and then for the Christians. For the contemporary historian, it is evident that the earliest history of the Israelites is largely legendary, yet this was not apparent to the people of antiquity. They believed in Homer’s account of the siege of Troy, the legend of Romulus and Remus, and many similar tales; why, Origen asks, do you accept these traditions while rejecting those of the Jews? Logically, it was impossible to refute such an argument. Therefore, it was quite natural to acknowledge the truth of the miracles mentioned in the Old Testament, and this acknowledgment made the miracles of a more recent time seem plausible, especially considering the Christian interpretation of the prophets.

Morally, Christians (if we take the period before Constantine) certainly surpassed the average pagans. At times, Christians faced persecution, and in competition with pagans, they were almost always at a disadvantage. They steadfastly believed that virtue would be rewarded in heaven, while sin would be punished in hell. The Christian ethics regarding gender relations were marked by a strictness that was a rare exception in the age of antiquity. Even Pliny, whose official duty was to persecute Christians, attested to their high moral character. Certainly, after Constantine’s conversion to Christianity, there were opportunists among Christians; yet, with a few exceptions, the prominent figures of the Church continued to be individuals of unwavering moral principles. I believe Gibbon was entirely correct in attributing such significance to this high moral standard as one of the reasons for the spread of Christianity.

Lastly, Gibbon places “the unity and discipline of the Christian republic” in the lowest position. However, I believe that from a political standpoint, this was the most important of all the reasons he presented. In the modern world, political organization has become second nature to us; any political figure must reckon with the voices of Catholics, which are balanced against the voices of other organized groups. A Catholic candidate for the American presidency finds himself at a disadvantage due to the prevailing Protestant bias. Yet had there been nothing akin to this Protestant bias, the Catholic candidate would have had better prospects than any other. Such appears to have been Constantine’s line of reasoning. To secure the support of Christians as a unified organized bloc, it was necessary to offer them patronage. Whatever form the existing antipathy toward Christians might take, it was disorganized and politically fruitless. Rostovtsev is likely correct in asserting that Christians made up a significant portion of the army, and this fact likely influenced Constantine’s decision. Regardless of how the situation stood, it is undeniable that even when Christians comprised a minority of the population, they possessed a kind of organization—a phenomenon entirely new for that time (though common today); the existence of such an organization transformed Christians into a politically influential group capable of exerting pressure, facing no other groups with similar capabilities. This was a natural consequence of the fact that Christians effectively monopolized religious fervor, a fervor they inherited from the Jews.

Unfortunately, as soon as Christians acquired political power, they turned their zeal against one another. Heresies existed even before Constantine, and there were quite a number of them, but then the adherents of orthodoxy were deprived of the means to punish their opponents. When Christianity became the state religion, a rich reward in the form of power and wealth opened up for clerics; a struggle for election to church offices began, and theological disputes often devolved into quarrels for earthly gains. Constantine himself maintained a degree of neutrality concerning the theologians’ disputes, but after his death (in 337), his successors (with the exception of Julian the Apostate) to a greater or lesser extent patronized the Arians until Theodosius ascended the throne in 379.

The hero of this period is Athanasius (circa 297—373), who throughout his long life was the most intrepid champion of Nicene orthodoxy.

A distinctive feature that characterizes the period from Constantine to the Council of Chalcedon (451) is the political significance that theology acquired. Two questions, one after the other, stirred the Christian world: first, the nature of the Trinity, and then the doctrine of the Incarnation. During the time of Athanasius, only the former of these questions came to the forefront. Arius, an educated priest from Alexandria, asserted that the Son was not equal to the Father but was instead created by Him. In an earlier period, this view might not have incited great hostility; however, in the fourth century, it was rejected by the majority of theologians. Ultimately, the prevailing belief became that the Father and the Son were equal and identical in substance, yet distinct in person. The view positing that the Father and the Son were not distinct persons but merely different expressions of the same Being was declared Sabellian heresy, after its founder Sabellius. Orthodoxy thus had to tread a very narrow path: those who overly emphasized the distinction between the Father and the Son risked falling into Arianism, while those who overly stressed their identity faced the peril of Sabellianism.

The doctrines of Arius were condemned by the Nicene Council (325) by an overwhelming majority. Despite this, various theologies proposed different modifications of Arianism, which received the patronage of emperors. Athanasius, who was bishop of Alexandria from 328 until his death, was constantly in exile due to his zealous commitment to Nicene orthodoxy. He enjoyed immense popularity in Egypt, which unwaveringly followed him throughout this controversy. Curiously, during the theological struggle, national (or at least local) sentiments, seemingly extinguished after the Roman conquest, were revived. Constantinople and Asia leaned toward Arianism; Egypt fervently supported Athanasius; the West remained steadfastly loyal to the decrees of the Nicene Council. After the conclusion of the Arian controversy, new disputes of a more or less similar nature erupted, with Egypt veering into heresy in one direction and Syria in another. These heresies, persecuted by the adherents of orthodoxy, undermined the unity of the Eastern Empire and thus facilitated the Muslim conquest. The mere fact of the emergence of separatist movements is not surprising; however, it is intriguing that they were invariably associated with the most intricate and difficult-to-understand theological questions.

From 335 to 378, the emperors, to varying degrees of boldness, patronized more or less Arian views; the sole exception was Julian the Apostate (reigned 361—363), who, as a pagan, maintained complete neutrality concerning the internal disputes of Christians. Finally, in 379, Emperor Theodosius provided decisive support to the Catholics, who achieved a complete victory across the empire. It is during this period of triumph for Catholicism that much of the lives of St. Ambrose, St. Jerome, and St. Augustine transpired, whom we will discuss in the next chapter. However, this period in the West was succeeded by a new era of Arian dominance, led by the Goths and Vandals, who conquered much of the Western Empire and divided it among themselves. Their dominion lasted about a century; by the end of this century, it was obliterated by Justinian, the Lombards, and the Franks, among whom Justinian and the Franks (and ultimately the Lombards) were adherents of orthodoxy. This signified that Catholicism had finally achieved definitive success.