Bishops and Their Position of Power in the Late Third CenturyCE: The Cases of Gregory Thaumaturgus and Paul of Samosata

Daniëlle Slootjes

Journal of Late Antiquity, Volume 4, Number 1, Spring 2011, pp. 100-115(Article)

Published by The Johns Hopkins University PressDOI: 10.1353/jla.2011.0005

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100 Journal of Late Antiquity 4.1 (Spring): 100–115 © 2011 The Johns Hopkins University Press

Daniëlle Slootjes

Bishops and Their Position of Power in the Late Third Century CE: The Cases of Gregory Thaumaturgus and Paul of Samosata

This study offers an examination of the position and public role of bishops within their local urban communities in the late third century CE. Two case studies, of the bishops Gregory Thaumaturgus and Paul of Samosata, explore how individual bishops searched for a way to publicly present them-selves that was acceptable not only to their own congregation but especially to the general population of the city where their congregation was situated. Whereas Gregory was received with great respect and admiration in Neo-caesarea, Paul’s public behavior caused negative reactions from within the Christian community of Antioch. Nevertheless, both cases refl ect the strug-gle by which the Christian church tried to obtain a fi rm position within Roman society. Furthermore, this study aims to demonstrate that bishops and the Christian communities that they represented enjoyed imperial rec-ognition several decades prior to the conversion of Constantine.

The position of bishops in the second half of the third century CE has seen much scholarly debate. This analysis, presenting two case studies involving the bishops Gregory Thaumaturgus and Paul of Samosata, illustrates two important aspects of the position of bishops in that period. First, by the end of the third century, these men had come to represent a religion that the impe-rial government had started to take seriously, contrary to what some scholars argue who believe that Christianity did not experience its defi nitive shift into a serious religious movement until after Constantine’s victor at the Milvian Bridge in 312 CE.1 Second, by the end of the third century bishops struggled

1 For a defi nitive shift of Christianity into a mature and organized religious movement in the latter half of the third century, see William H.C. Frend, Martyrdom and Persecution in the Early Church (London, 1965); Peter R.L. Brown, “Aspects of the Christianisation of the Roman Aris-tocracy,” JRS 51 (1961), 1–11; Idem, The Making of Late Antiquity (Cambridge, MA/ London,

SLOOTJES ^ Bishops and Power in the Late Third Century CE 101

with their own position of power and the way in which they were supposed to act, not so much perhaps within their church community, but in particu-lar within the city at large to which their church community belonged. In essence, this was the struggle by which bishops attempted to give identity to their position of leadership. Before embarking on a discussion of these two bishops, however, it might be helpful to provide some background on the role of bishops in general during the third and fourth centuries.

The Changing Role of BishopsIn cities where bishops started to play an important role in civic life and gained prominence among the local elites, a new balance had to be found within those local elites, as the existing structures had to accommodate a new fi gure of power who was not to leave the stage of power for the next several centu-ries. Not only did local elites have to fi nd a new mode of operation, but impe-rial offi cials who dealt with the local level also ran into bishops as new fi gures of power with whom they had to reckon. The third century brought forth noteworthy Christian intellectuals and bishops such as Tertullian, Clement of Alexandria, Origen, and Cyprian, who have given us precious insights into their thoughts on issues relating to the early Christian church. We gain very few glimpses of their position within the local elites and within the “worldly” community at large, however, because their writings by and large concen-trated on ecclesiastical matters. Perhaps as a result of this concentration, mod-ern scholarship so far has not focused much on the ways in which bishops functioned within their cities in the third century, even though an investiga-tion of their daily behavior and physical appearance in their cities would lead us to a better understanding of the position of bishops and of Christianity within the cities of the empire in the latter half of the third century.

During the third century, the offi cial position of the imperial government in regards to Christianity developed and evolved. The traditional religious cults and the imperial cult continued to dominate religious life.2 As of the

1978); Fergus Millar, “Paul of Samosata, Zenobia and Aurelian: The Church, Local Culture and Political Allegiance in Third-century Syria,” JRS 61 (1971), 1–17; Idem, The Emperor in the Roman World (London, 1992); and Timothy D. Barnes, “Christians and Pagans in the Reign of Constantius,” in A. Dihle, ed., L’église et l’empire au IVe siècle (Geneva, 1989), 301–43; for the early fourth century, see Ramsay MacMullen, Christianizing the Roman Empire (A.D. 100–400) (New Haven, 1984); Robin Lane Fox, Pagans and Christians (London, 1986).

2 See Geza Alföldy, “Die Krise des Imperium Romanum und die Religion Roms,” in Werner Eck, ed., Religion und Gesellschaft in der römischen Kaiserzeit (Cologne/Vienna, 1989), 53–102, esp. 68, on the antiquitas of the Roman state religion, but see Ittai Gradel, Emperor Worship and Roman Religion (Oxford, 2002), 356–69, for the argument for a decrease of the imperial cult in the third century.

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mid-third century, the college of the XVviri sacris faciundis in Rome contin-ued to allow cities to set up cults for ancient deities such as Magna Mater,3 and, for the imperial government, the traditional cults remained very impor-tant. The sporadic persecutions of Christians, especially up to the 250s, is a clear indication of a strong continuity of pagan traditions. Between Trajan and the 250s, persecution of individual Christians has been seen as attempts by the empire’s subjects to deal with the activities of a group of people that did not seem to fi t traditional patterns of religious behavior and should certainly not be seen as an offi cial policy of the emperors.4

A turning point was reached, however, when Trajan Decius (249–251) issued an edict ordering all the empire’s inhabitants to sacrifi ce to the gods of the empire and swear an oath.5 This might not have been an order spe-cifi cally attacking the Christians, but Decius would have known that Chris-tians would be singled out because the prescribed sacrifi ce and oath would go against their beliefs.6 The result of the edict, indeed, was that Christians found themselves in serious diffi culties, as many refused to perform the sacri-fi ce and oath. In response, many bishops went into hiding and escaped the fi rst wave of persecutions. The imperial government learned from this experience, and realized that bishops played a vital role in keeping Christians together and strengthening them in their faith.7 The persecution of Valerian (253–260) in 258, cited by Cyprian, concentrated especially on the Christian leader-ship and on the upper classes of Roman society. Bishops, presbyters, deacons, senators and men of rank, matronae, equites, and Caesariani were mentioned

3 For the cult, see Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum 10.3698 (298 CE); CIL 10.3699 (251 CE); CIL 12.1567 (245 CE); also Richard Gordon, “Religion in the Roman Empire,” in Mary Beard, John North, Pagan Priests: Religion and Power in the Ancient World (London, 1990), 245.

4 See Pliny Epist. 10.96–97; also Lane Fox, Pagans and Priests, 423, 434; James B. Rives, “The Decree of Decius and the Religion of Empire,” JRS 89 (1999), 135–154, at 135; Geoffrey E.M. de Ste. Croix, Christian Persecution, Martyrdom, and Orthodoxy, ed. M. Witby, J. Streeter (Oxford, 2006), 106–07, 133–34.

5 The wording of the decree is lost, but its effects are attested by papyrus certifi cates from Egypt recording the sacrifi ces: see John R. Knipfi ng, “The Libelli of the Decian Persecutation,” HThR 16 (1923), 345–90; Epistulae 5–43 of Cyprian; two letters of bishop Dionysius of Alex-andria as quoted in Eusebius, Historia Ecclessiastica 6.40–42); and the Passio Pionii. See also Frend, Martyrdom, 389–439; Rives, “Decree of Decius,” 135–37; Ulrich Huttner, “Zwischen Tra-ditionalismus und Totalitarismus. Zur Ideologie und Praxis der Regierung des Kaisers Decius,” in Klaus-Peter Johne, Thomas Gerhardt, Udo Hartmann, eds., Deleto Paene Imperio Romano: Transformationsprozesse des römischen Reiches im 3. Jahrhundert und ihre Rezeption in der Neuzeit (Stuttgart, 2006), 37–56; Bruno Bleckmann, “Zu den Motiven der Christenverfolgung des Decius,” in Johne, Gerhardt, Hartmann, Deleto paene imperio Romano, 57–72.

6 See Theophilus Ad Autolycum 1.11, explaining why Christians were not to worship the emperor; also Millar, “Paul of Samosata, Zenobia and Aurelian,” 15; Rives “Decree of Decius,” 141–42; Gradel, Emperor Worship.

7 Lane Fox, Pagans and Priests, 455, 495.

SLOOTJES ^ Bishops and Power in the Late Third Century CE 103

as the ones who should be punished when they persisted in being Christians.8 Christianity clearly was no longer considered to be merely a religion of the less privileged elements of society.9

Under Gallienus (253–268), the position of Christians improved when he issued an edict of toleration ordering that all places for Christian gatherings should be freely accessible.10 He also gave the bishops permission to fulfi ll the duties of their offi ce and returned to them the land that, earlier, the Christians apparently had used for their burials. Remarkably, then, local churches in the third century were already in possession of land that was acknowledged by the imperial government as sacred to the Christian religion. Furthermore, Gallienus recognized the Christian church as an organization with its own offi cial structure, a confi rmation of the development whereby Christianity started to secure a position within existing boundaries of religious and politi-cal structures of the empire.

In the early church we fi nd Christian authors such as Tertullian applying a terminology to explain church institutions that came close to the terminology and institutions used for the secular government.11 By the end of the second and early third centuries, church synods were held to discuss problems, and in Cappadocia, by the mid-third century, synods were held annually.12 The development of the church into an organization that covered more or less the territory of the Roman Empire, although certain regions were Christianized more intensely and faster than others, also had consequences for the existing local mechanisms of power, because bishops came to represent an institution that both covered and exceeded the local level of cities. Bishops were con-nected to a network of bishops who came together on an increasingly regular basis to discuss matters of the Christian church and whose aim it was to stand for the interests of that church. One might argue that bishops started to function within an organization that ran parallel to and competed with

8 Cyprian Epist. 80. 9 Contrary to older views that the Christian religion had a special appeal to the unprivileged,

it now seems that Christianity appealed to all social classes from the beginning onward: see Hans-Joachim Drexhage, “Wirtschaft und Handel in den frühchristlichen Gemeinden,” RQA 76 (1981), 1–72. For the third century, however, there is evidence for only a handful of male members of the senatorial elite being: see Christian. W. Eck, “Das Eindringen des Christentums in den Senato-renstand bis zu Konstantin d. Gr.,” Chiron 1 (1971), 381–406; T.D. Barnes, “Statistics and the Conversion of the Roman Aristocracy,” JRS 85 (1995), 135–47.

10 Euseb. HE 7.13, 7.23. 11 See Elisabeth Herrmann, Ecclesia in Re Publica. Die Entwicklung der Kirche von pseu-

dostaatlicher zu staatlich inkorporierter Existenz (Frankfurt, 1980), 42–43, for examples such as ordo, lex fi dei, ius docendi, ius offerendi; 46, the regular cursus honorum became the gra-dus ecclesiastici. Hermann sees the organization of the early church as a state within a state, or “pseudostaatlich.”

12 Herrmann, Ecclesia in Re Publica, 57, 63.

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the existing structures within which the established elites had operated. For several centuries Roman government had relied upon these local elites to run their cities; cities had formed the administrative backbone of the empire and were a primary means of communication between emperor and subjects.13 In the fi fth and sixth centuries, the organization and leadership of the Christian church would prove to be a most able “successor” to the earlier system of local elites running their cities and thereby guaranteeing the survival of the empire.

The role of the bishop as a religious leader was of an entirely different nature from that of the traditional polytheistic priest, which would explain why up to the end of the third century priests and priestesses were not particu-larly threatened by bishops as their religious activities were not in competition with each other. Even though a bishop functioned not only within his reli-gious community, but also in his city, his offi ce was in principle not connected to or part of local government. A bishop’s performance of Christian rituals was not directed toward the city, whereas religious practices of both local and imperial cults represented a vital share in the well being of local and imperial government.14 For members of the local elites, priesthoods, especially those of the larger cults, denoted another possibility by which they could distin-guish themselves and obtain prestige and status. Priests and priestesses spent their money on their cult for the benefi t of their city, and were visible during processions and festivals, thereby claiming a pivotal role in their communi-ty.15 Furthermore, a bishop’s authority was different from a priest’s in that he administered a group of people who were searching for religion on a very personal level.16

Eventually, by the end of the fourth century, when Christianity was offi -cially proclaimed the only fully legal religion of the empire, bishops gained sole religious authority in cities and the position of the traditional priests and priestesses disappeared.17 The road to this status had been a long one. In the

13 Jean-Michel Carrié, “Developments in Provincial and Local Administration,” in The Cam-bridge Ancient History² Vol. 12. The Crisis of Empire, A.D. 193–337 (Cambridge, 2005), 273; also Brown, Making of Late Antiquity, 2–3, who suggests that most of the cities in the empire were “small towns” and that Rome and those other few large capital cities in the empire “remained exceptional.”

14 See Claudia Rapp, “The Elite Status of Bishops in Late Antiquity in Ecclesiastical, Spiritual, and Social Contexts,” Arethusa 33 (2000), 379–99, at 382.

15 Lane Fox, Pagans and Priests, 80. 16 See Clifford Ando, The Matter of the Gods (Berkeley, 2008), xi-xii, “Christianity’s concerns

are doctrinal and existential; Roman religion’s concerns were political.” See also Lane Fox, Pagans and Priests, 495.

17 Daniëlle Slootjes, “Governor Trumped by Bishop: Shifting Boundaries in Roman Religious and Public Life,” in Lukas de Blois, Peter Funke, Johannes Hahn, eds., The Impact of Imperial Rome on Religions, Ritual and Religious Life in the Roman Empire: Proceedings of the Fifth Workshop of the International Network Impact of Empire (Roman Empire, 200 B.C.-A.D. 476),

SLOOTJES ^ Bishops and Power in the Late Third Century CE 105

third century, the situation had been entirely different. Both priests and bish-ops existed side by side in those cities where there was a Christian community. We must remind ourselves that the second half of the third century was a period in which some, but by no means all, cities had bishops. Our discussion will focus on those cities where there were bishops. It may come as no surprise that tension arose when bishops tried to establish a position for themselves within the existing relations of power in those cities. Within their religious community, bishops did not need to seek acceptance for their position as lead-ers of the community. Outside their Christian community, however, there was no offi cial arrangement by which they offi cially belonged within the struc-tures of a city. Bishops had to fi nd a way to establish themselves within the city at large if they and the Christian church were to play a role within a city.

Case StudiesThe examples of Gregory Thaumaturgus and of Paul of Samosata will facili-tate a demonstration of how bishops struggled to fi nd a position within their cities in the second half of the third century. They also will show how the tra-ditional local elites were affected by the presence of bishops, for most bishops were members of local elites themselves before they took on their prominent position within the church.18 How would their selection as bishops affect their relationship with these elites? Would they continue to be part of the circle of powerful people with whom they shared a certain level of wealth, a similar education, and a responsibility for the successful operations of local government?19 To a certain extent, this must have been the case. But, on the

Münster, June 30-July 4, 2004 (Leiden/Boston, 2006), 219–31; see also Peter R.L. Brown, Power And Persuasion In Late Antiquity : Towards A Christian Empire (Madison, WI, 1992); C. Rapp, Holy Bishops in Late Antiquity: The Nature of Christian Leadership in an Age of Transition (Berkeley, 2005).

18 Cyprian, e.g., gave up a large part of his property and his career as teacher of Latin rhetoric and advocate in the courts of law before he was appointed bishop of Carthage: see Lane Fox, Pagans and Priests, 14–6; 516. Josef Rist, “Cyprian von Karthago und Paul von Samosata. Über-legungen zum Verständnis des Bischofsamtes im 3. Jahrhundert,” in Raban von Haehling, ed., Rom und das himmlische Jerusalem. Die frühen Christen zwischen Anpassung und Ablehnung (Darmstadt, 2000), 257–86. See also Rita Lizzi Testa, ed., Le trasformazioni delle élites in età tardoantica (Rome, 2006); Éric Rebillard, Claire Sotinel, eds., L’Évêque dans la Cité du IVe au Ve Siècle. Image et Autorité (Rome, 1998); Claire Sotinel, Identité Civique et Christianisme. Aquilée du IIIe au VI Siècle (Rome, 2005); Claudia Rapp, Michele R. Salzman, eds., Elites in Late Anti-quity, Arethusa 33 (2000). Bishops also, of course, could come from humble backgrounds: see Lane Fox, Pagans and Priests, 14–16, 516; Rapp, “The Elite Status of Bishops”, 386–87; Idem, “Bishops in Late Antiquity: A New Social and Urban Elite?,” in John Haldon, Lawrence I. Conrad, eds., The Byzantine and Early Islamic East: VI. Elites Old and New in the Byzantine and Early Islamic Near East (Princeton, 2004), 149–78.

19 See Rapp, “The Elite Status of Bishops,” 391.

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other hand, as the leaders of a religious community they would fi nd them-selves connected to a new network of bishops in other cities. And this religious network would pursue goals other than those of the traditional local elites. Furthermore, the nature of their function offered bishops grander opportuni-ties for status and prestige that they might not have been able to obtain if they had remained in secular life.

Gregory Thaumaturgus

Gregory Thaumaturgus notably illustrates the way in which bishops started to become visible and powerful within their communities. Gregory, who during his life obtained the name “Thaumaturgus” because of his powers as a “won-derworker” but also was called “the Great,” was bishop in the city of Neocae-sarea in Pontus. He was already credited with playing an important role in the Christianization of the Pontic region.20 Born circa 210–215 to pagan parents who were wealthy prominent members of their community, Gregory lived through the greater part of the third century and most likely died during the reign of Aurelian (270–275). Gregory enjoyed a traditional classical education and was planning to go to law school at Beirut when he changed course and became a student of Origen in Caesarea during the 230s.21 After returning to Pontus, he became bishop of Neocaesarea,22 very much against his wishes, if we are to believe Gregory of Nyssa who wrote a life of Gregory, the Vita Gre-gorii Thaumaturgii, based mainly on oral traditions as they existed nearly a hundred years after Gregory’s death. The life later was translated into several oriental languages.23

Even though Gregory of Nyssa emphasized that Gregory Thaumaturgus “made little account of the whole world and those in it—not busy running kingdoms, not looking for posts of leadership, not listening to anyone tell how some public matter was managed,” the Vita nevertheless contains many

20 Stephan Mitchell, “The Life and Lives of Gregory Thaumaturgus,” in Jan Willem Drijvers, John W. Watt, eds., Portraits of Spiritual Authority: Religious Power in Early Christianity, Byz-antium and the Christian Orient (Leiden, 1999), 99.

21 Gregory of Nyssa, Vita Gregorii Thaumaturgi, in PG 46.893–957; references here will be to the column number and section letter and between brackets the numbers of the sections in the translation of Michael Slusser, St. Gregory Thaumaturgus, Life and Works (Washington, DC, 1998). On his wealthy prominent family, see VGreg.Thaum. 900A [10]. See Raymond van Dam, “Hagiography and History: The Life of Gregory Thaumaturgus,” ClassStud 1 (1982), 272–308, at 272–73, on the reason why Gregory never seems to have made it to Beirut; 273 on the period when Gregory studied with Origen. See also Lane Fox, Pagans and Priests, 517–42.

22 VGreg.Thaum. 909A-C [26–27].23 See Slusser, St. Gregory Thaumaturgus, 3; also Mitchell, “Life and Lives of Gregory Thau-

maturgus,” 116–19, in particular 118–19 for a table showing the relationships between the differ-ent versions. See Van Dam, “Hagiography and History,” 278ff., for an outline of the panegyric according to traditional formulae from the rhetorical handbooks.

SLOOTJES ^ Bishops and Power in the Late Third Century CE 107

references to Gregory’s behavior as a prominent fi gure in Neocaesarea.24 And even though the hagiographical nature of the life might lead one to question its historical accuracy, it has been acknowledged that it does contain some accurate portrayals of the third century situation in provincial communities.25 The question remains, however, regarding the extent to which the Vita refl ects the conditions of the fourth century or the third century.26 The following analysis will demonstrate how we can understand several passages as repre-senting third century situations.

Gregory’s position and behavior reveal that he was very much part of the existing and accepted structures within which men of power, both those of local stature and those representing the imperial government, moved around. Three sections in the Vita, in particular, are notable on this point. First, when Gregory came to Neocaesarea, his adventus showed much resemblance to that of offi cial travelers such as governors and other representatives of the imperial government.27 Gregory did not make use of a chariot, horse, or mule, as one would expect from offi cial travelers, but he came “guarded on all sides by his virtues, and the inhabitants of the town poured out en masse” to greet him, precisely what would have been anticipated by offi cials.28 The main differ-ence between the “worldly” offi cials and Gregory was that he seemed to be unmoved by the reception and acted as if there were no one there. Gregory’s stoic reaction to the crowd was very much appreciated and respected by his audience, as if his reaction was a sign of his holiness, whereas Roman offi cials would actually punish city councilors or cities if they failed to be present in full strength or to cheer for them.29

Second, once Gregory had arrived, he and his companions had to fi nd a place to stay for the night. Whereas his companions became really worried

24 VGreg.Thaum. 908C [24]: “μικρὸν παντὸς τοῦ κόσμου καὶ τῶν ἐν αὐτῷ λόγον ποιούμενος, οὐ βασιλείας πολυπραγμονῶν, οὐκ ἀρχὰς ἐξετάζων, οὐ πῶς διοικεῖται τι τῶν διεξιόντος ἀκούων.”

25 Van Dam, “Hagiography and History,” in particular 280ff, 307; Mitchell “Life and Lives of Gregory Thaumaturgus.”

26 Van Dam, “Hagiography and History,” 288. 27 VGreg.Thaum. 920A-920C [42–43]. On adventus, see Sabine G. MacCormack, Art and

Ceremony in Late Antiquity (Berkeley/Los Angeles/London, 1981); Michael McCormick, Eternal Victory: Triumphal Rulership in Late Antiquity, Byzantium, and the Early Medieval West (Cam-bridge, 1986), 231–59.

28 VGreg. Thaum. 920B [42], “ἀλλά ταῖς ἀρεταῖς ἐν κύκλῳ δορυφορούμενος, πανδημεὶ δὲ πάντων προχεθέντων τῶν οἰκητόρων τοῦ ἄστεος.” Cf. Plutarch, Cato Minor 13, on Cato’s arrival in Antioch (Plutarch Pompeius 40 tells the same story). From the speeches of Libanius and Himerius a vivid picture emerges of what happened when visiting offi cials were welcomed. See also J. H. Wolfgang, G. Liebeschuetz, Antioch: City and Imperial Administration in the Later Roman Empire (Oxford, 1972), 208–19; Daniëlle Slootjes, The Governor and his Subjects in the Later Roman Empire (Leiden/Boston, 2006), 106–28.

29 Slootjes, The Governor and his Subjects, 109.

108 Journal of Late Antiquity

that they would not fi nd a place to sleep, Gregory was confi dent they would. In the end, sure enough, they were offered a home by several members of the local elite who competed among themselves to give shelter to this important guest.30 A man by the name Musonius won the favor of hosting Gregory. Again, the similarity with the arrival of offi cial travelers is striking. Offi cial travelers would make use of a system called angareia, which obliged pro-vincial subjects to provide transportation facilities and lodgings for traveling Roman offi cials and soldiers stationed in or traveling through the provinces.31 Provincials had to provide a service called hospitium, which included lodging, food, and drink, for free.32 Apparently, Gregory’s appearance called for the same treatment.

Third, Gregory seemed to have held some type of court where he judged cases: “they (the inhabitants of Neocaesarea) did not suppose that when the disputes of daily life arose they had any more exalted court of appeal, but every judgment and every complicated entanglement was solved by his counsels.”33 What type of cases did Gregory judge? Are we dealing here with minor local disputes? Are these the civil law cases that in the early fourth cen-tury Constantine allowed bishops to judge in their episcopalis audientia?34 The latter seems perhaps unlikely, and surely does not become clear from the text, but clearly Gregory was asked to mediate in “disputes of daily life,” which implies that we are dealing here with not only religious matters. Once more, Gregory was taking on a responsibility that was part of the governor’s offi cial duties.35

How are we to evaluate Gregory’s worldly behavior? Did he behave in a way that the people in the cities of the empire would expect from a Christian

30 VGreg. Thaum. 920D-921C [44–45]. 31 For the origins of this system in the postal service of the Persian Empire, see Michael Ros-

tovtzeff, “Angareia,” Klio 6 (1906), 249–258; Anne Kolb, Transport und Nachrichtentransfer im römischen Reich (Berlin, 2000), 15–19, 50, for more discussions on the origins; 49–53, for a discussion on the terminology of cursus publicus, a term also circulating in modern scholarship for this service, although in the ancient sources used not until the fourth century CE. Also Eckhard Meyer-Zwiffelhoffer, Πολιτικῶς ἄρχειν. Zum Regierungsstil der senatorischen Statthalter in den kaiserzeitlichen griechischen Provinzen (Stuttgart, 2002), 86–87.

32 SEG 26.1392, ll.23–5. See also Kolb, Transport und Nachrichtentransfer, 59. 33 VGreg.Thaum. 924D [49]: “οὐδε τῶν βιωτικῶν ἀμφισβητημάτων, ἄλλο τι δικαστήριον ᾤ οντο

εἷναι αῦτοῖς κυριώτερον, ἀλλὰ πᾶσα κρίσις καὶ πᾶσα δυσδιεξόδευτος πραγμάτων πλοκὴ ταῖς ἐκείνου συμβουλίας διελύετο.”

34 See Jill Harries, Law and Empire in Late Antiquity (Cambridge, 1999), especially chapter 10, Dispute settlement II: episcopalis audientia, 191–211; John C. Lamoreaux, “Episcopal Courts in Late Antiquity,” JECS 3 (1995), 143–67; Rapp, Holy Bishops, 243–52.

35 See Graham P. Burton, “Proconsuls, Assizes and the Administration of Justice under the Empire,” JRS 65 (1975), 92–106; Christian Habicht, “New Evidence of the Province of Asia,” JRS 65 (1975), 64–91.

SLOOTJES ^ Bishops and Power in the Late Third Century CE 109

leader in the second half of the third century? Within his own Christian community Gregory certainly did not need these “worldly” activities to be a respected Christian bishop. These activities did help him, however, to estab-lish a position for himself within Neocaesarea at large. Notable in the situa-tion of Gregory is that not only did he himself take on this position of worldly leadership by the way he reacted to what happened at his arrival or when presented with disputes, but the people of Neocaesarea also seem to have accepted his position of power without any question. Surely, they were used to receiving offi cial guests and providing them with lodgings, but Gregory was a bishop. That did not give him the privilege of being treated similarly to representatives of the imperial government. Furthermore, the behavior of the members of the local elite is remarkable, because they apparently went out of their way to convince Gregory to stay with them for the night. Thereby they seem to have acknowledged that Gregory was a man of higher status and power than they themselves, even though he originally also came from the local elite. If we accept this higher status of Gregory, does it then also mean that Gregory’s acceptance of Musonius’ offer gave Musonius more status among his peers?36 This is a question we cannot answer. With the presenta-tion of Gregory’s reception in Neocasarea, we might perhaps also wonder to what extent we are dealing with the actual reality of the reception or if this is a prime example of later projection. Nonetheless, the inclusion of such a reception refl ects an important element in the struggle of bishops to establish themselves in their cities beyond their own religious community. By the end of the third century, most bishops would not have had such a wonderful recep-tion as described by Gregory, which acknowledged him as a most prominent member of the community.

The three particular situations examined above can be regarded as rep-resenting the world of the third as well as that of the fourth century; there seems to be no particular reason why there would be a need to regard them only as examples of fourth century projection on the third century.37 That is to say, the situations in which Gregory was portrayed correspond with situa-tions that were very much part of the world of the third century. The ways in which governors, other offi cial and nonoffi cial travelers of high status (such as senators) were received, and the hearing of provincial court cases by the governor, had been part of the system of provincial government from the beginning of Rome’s empire. There is nothing specifi cally “fourth-century” about these situations.

36 See Mitchell, “Life and Lives of Gregory Thaumaturgus,” 123, who cautiously offers the pos-sibility of the person of Musonius being an invention.

37 Van Dam, “Hagiography and History,” 288.

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Furthermore, Gregory’s involvement in court cases does not need to be regarded as a fourth-century phenomenon, even though the right of the epis-copalis audientia was offi cially not bestowed until Constantine did so in 318 CE. Gregory’s activity as mediator in court might as easily be explained as a forerunner of the episcopalis audientia.38 When Constantine confi rmed the right of the episcopalis audientia, it is most likely that he approved of an arrangement that had grown into being in which bishops already were involved in court cases.39 Certainly, in the third century, which in some regions of the empire was characterized by turmoil, one can understand why it was easier for the local population to turn to someone such as a bishop for arbitration than to wait for the arrival of the governor during his conventus, because in uncertain times he might not even arrive. Especially for the latter part of the third century, there were regions in the empire for which we have not much evidence on how well provincial government still worked and we have evidence of alternative ways of local arbitration such as assistance of cen-turiones.40 Finally, against those who would argue that Gregory’s involvement in court cases must have been a fourth-century phenomenon, the following argument can be brought. The right for bishops to judge in civil cases did not survive Julian’s rule, but was then reinstated under Honorius and Arcadius.41 Thus, when Gregory of Nyssa wrote his Vita Gregorii Thaumaturgii, bishops were not offi cially allowed to try civil cases.

The case of Gregory Thaumaturgus is a noteworthy illustration of the ways in which the presence of bishops already in the course of the third century could cause a shift in the relations among the members of the local elites. In those cities with a Christian community, bishops were trying to establish themselves as prominent members of the local elites who in their turn had to deal with the presence of a potentially “new” powerful fi gure within their group. Obviously, this can be said only for those communities where there was a considerable Christian community. All those areas where Christianity had not yet become very visible and that were without bishops would not have to have dealt with his presence and his move into existing power structures. However, in those communities with a bishop, such as

38 Harries, Law and Empire, 191–211; Lamoreaux, “Episcopal Courts.” 39 Rapp, Holy Bishops, 242–243. 40 See Charlotte Roueché, “Rome, Asia and Aphrodisias in the Third Century,” JRS 71 (1981),

103–20, for a discussion of two centuriones frumentarii in Aphrodisias in the mid-250s. Evidence from Egypt points to centuriones who were summoned in times of need by local populations that should have turned to their governor as well: see Richard Alston, Soldier and Society in Roman Egypt: A Social History (London/New York, 1995), 86–96; John E.G. Whitehorne, “Petitions to the Centurion: A Question of Locality?,” BASP 41 (2004), 155–69.

41 Harries, Law and Empire, 199–202.

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Gregory’s Neocaesarea, local elites had to reckon with bishops. Even though they most often came from within the local elites, their particular position as highest local Christian leader set them aside from that group of local elites. It might even mean that bishops could gain a position that was more visible and more powerful than perhaps many or even most of the other members of the local elites.

How are we to understand this development of the rise of bishops in certain cities of the empire in a time when Christianity was far from being accepted by the imperial government? It must have depended not only on the personal-ity and ambitions of an individual bishop, but also on his position within his own church to what extent he would become a prominent local fi gure. If he led a sizeable Christian community, he obviously represented a substantial part of a city. Bishops were able to appeal to all layers within a community, more so perhaps than other members of the local elites were able to do. Based on the ideal of charity within the Christian church, bishops were reaching out to virtually every member of a community. Their image is also one of acces-sibility to and for all.42 Christian notions of charity differed in many respects from pagan philanthropy; as Lane Fox suggests, “in cities of growing social divisions, Christianity offered unworldly equality.”43 One might argue that the other members of the local elites in many respects could not compete with the bishop. Therefore, they had to fi nd a new balance within their local rela-tions of power, as they might have realized that rejecting this new infl uential player was no longer an option in the course of the third century, particularly once Gallienus had issued his edict of toleration.

Paul of Samosata

Bishop Paul of Samosata, who experienced serious confl ict within the church of Antioch, provides an example demonstrating that “worldly” behavior by bishops in the third century was certainly not generally accepted.44 Paul was elected bishop of Antioch in 261, but soon accused of heresy.45 After two syn-ods at which his alleged heresy was discussed he was deposed in 272.46 Paul, however, refused to step down, and his adversaries, fellow-bishops, turned to the emperor Aurelian in their attempt to solve the matter. Now, Aurelian’s involvement was not exceptional, as emperors before had been asked to judge

42 See P. Brown, Poverty and Leadership in the Later Roman Empire (Hanover/London, 2002).43 Lane Fox, Pagans and Priests, 335. 44 Millar, “Paul of Samosata”; Rist, “Cyprian von Karthago,” 277ff. 45 Jerome, Chron. 220; on Paul’s appointment in Antioch, Rist, “Cyprian von Karthago,” 278–

80. ,46 Euseb.HE 7.27–30. See Millar, “Paul of Samosata,” for the most extensive modern treatment

of Paul’s case; also Lane Fox, Pagans and Priests, 512ff.

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in religious matters, nor should it be seen in the context of Zenobia’s alleged patronage of Paul.47 What might be called notable is that representatives of a Christian community asked for help in a time, only shortly after Galli-enus’ edict of toleration, in which the imperial government had not necessarily accepted Christianity. The fact that the bishops asked the emperor for help shows that the church regarded its organization as part of and subject to an imperial government in which the emperor could and should judge in church matters. In other words, church leaders put themselves in a position of obedi-ence to the emperor. Similarly, the involvement of Aurelian and his reaction illustrates that the imperial government not only took the confl ict seriously, but also that it accepted the Christian community in Antioch as a serious party within Roman society with which they offi cially communicated. The bishops’ petition to Aurelian was successful in that Paul lost his position.

A parallel situation occurred in Gaul, prior to the Battle of the Milvian Bridge, where Constantine spent a substantial period. Contrary to his rival Galerius, who had opposed Christianity, Constantine asked the bishops of Autun, Arles, and Cologne, as representatives of their Christian communities, to mediate in the Donatist controversy.48 It is notable that this all occurred before Constantine’s own acceptance of and conversion to Christianity, and it provides additional evidence for the acceptance by the imperial government of local Christian communities as an offi cial party that should be taken seriously.

The description in Eusebius about the way in which Paul presented him-self in Antioch, for which he was greatly criticized by the other members of the Christian community, points to a Christian leader attempting to assimi-late to behavior expected from Roman government offi cials. Paul apparently behaved as if he were a Roman offi cial and even wanted to be called by the title ducenarius, instead of his religious title bishop. Eusebius described Paul’s behavior in the following way:

(8) Neither [do we judge him] because he sets his mind on high things, and is lifted up, clothing himself with worldly honors and wishing to be called ducenarius rather than bishop, and struts in the market places, reading and dictating letters as he walks in public, and attended by a body-guard, some preceding, some following, and that too in numbers: with the result that the faith is ill thought of and hated because of his conceit and the overweening pride of his heart. (9) Nor do we judge the quackery in church assemblies that he devises, courting popularity and posing for appearance’ sake, and

47 Millar, “Paul of Samosata,” 1–2, 13–17. 48 See W. Eck, “Eine historische Zeitenwende: Kaiser Constantins Hinwendung zum Christen-

tum und die gallische Bischöfe,” in Florian Schuller, Hartmut Wolff, eds., Konstantin der Große. Kaiser einer Epochenwende (Lindenberg, 2007), 69–94. .

SLOOTJES ^ Bishops and Power in the Late Third Century CE 113

thus astonishing the minds of the simpler folk, with the tribunal and lofty throne that he prepared from himself, not befi tting a disciple of Christ, and the secretum, which, in imitation of the rulers of the world, he has and so styles. Also, he smites his hand on his thigh and stamps the tribunal with his feet; and those who do not applaud or wave their handkerchiefs, as in a theater, or shout out and jump up in the same way as do the men and wretched women who are his partisans and hearken in their disorderly fash-ion, but who listen, as in God’s house, with orderly and becoming reverence, he rebukes and insults.49

This passage gives us many characteristics of worldly offi cials that suppos-edly would not be fi tting for a bishop, at least according to Eusebius’ presen-tation. Paul’s preference for being addressed by the title ducenarius, which would have been a term referring to the rank of an imperial procurator, a man from the equestrian order, might also be indicative for the tension that existed between the leaders of the church who on the one hand wanted to establish their own leadership within their religious community, whereas on the other hand they felt the need to position themselves within the worldly community, for which they sought perhaps a more worldly terminology. Even though Paul is being criticized here for using ducenarius, it is notable that Cyprian earlier in the third century had employed similar terminology in his De lapsis, where he had written of the offi ce of bishop as divina procuratio versus the worldly offi cials as procuratores rerum saecularium.50

Eusebius’ description gives us remarkable insight into the public appear-ance and behavior of the offi cials of the imperial government such as gov-ernors, including walking around while attending to offi cial business, the smiting of the hand on the thigh and the stamping of the tribunal with the feet, even though he employs it as a negative description of behavior unfi tting

49 Euseb. HE 7.30.8–9: “(8) οὔτε ὡς ὑφηλὰ φρονεῖ καὶ ὑπερῆται, κοσμικὰ ἀξιώματα ὑποδυόμενος καὶ δουκηνάριος μᾶλλον ἢ ἐπίσκοπος θέλων καλεῖσθαι καὶ ἐπιστολὰς ἀναγινώσκςν καὶ ὑπαγορεύςν ἅμα βαδίζςν δημοσίᾳ καὶ δορυφορούμενος, τῶν μὲν προπορυεομένων, τῶν δ’ ἐφεπομένων, πολλῶν τὸν ἀριθμόν, ὡς καὶ τὴν πίστιν φθονεῖσθαι καὶ μισεῖσθαι διὰ τὸν ὄγκον αὐτοῦ καὶ τὴν ὑπερηφανίαν τῆς καρδίας (9) οὔτε τὴν ἐν ταῖς ἐκκλησιαστικαῖς συνόδοις τερατείαν, ἣν μηχανᾶται, δοξοκοπῶν καὶ φαντασιοκοπῶν καὶ τὰς τῶν ἀκεραιοτέρων ψυχὰς τοῖς τοιούτοις ἐκλήττων, βῆμα μὲν καὶ θρόνον ὑψηλὸν ἑαυτῷ κατασκευσάμενος, οὐχ ὡς Χριστοῦ μαθητής, σήκρητόν τε, ὥσπερ οἱ τοῦ κόσμου ἄρχοντες, ἔχων τε καὶ ὀνομάζων, παίων τε τῆ χειρὶ τὸν μηρὸν καὶ τὸ βῆμα ἀράττων τοῖς ποσὶν καὶ τοῖς μὴ ἐπαινοῦσιν μηδὲ ὥσπερ ἐν τοῖς θεάτροις κατασείουσιν ταῖς ὀθόναις μηδ’ ἐκβοῶσιν τε καὶ ἀναπηδῶσιν κατὰ τὰ αὐτὰ τοῖς ἀμ’ʹ αὐτὸν στασιώταις, ἀνδράσιν τε καὶ γυναίοις,ἀκόσμως οὕτως ἀκροςμένοις, τοῖς δ’ οὖν ὡς ἐν οἴκῳ θεοῦ σεμνοπρεπῶς καὶ εὐτάκτως ἀκούουσιν ἐπιτιμῶν καὶ ἐνυβρίζων.” Text from Gustave Bardy, Eusèbe de Césarée. Histoire Ecclésiastique (Paris, 1955), translation in James Stevenson, A New Eusebius: Documents iIlustrating the History of the Church to AD 337, rev.ed. (Cambridge, 1987). See also Millar, “Paul of Samosata,” 12ff, on the public role of Paul; Rist, “Cyprian von Karthago,” 280–81.

50 See Cyprian De Lapsis 6; also Rist, “Cyprian von Karthago,” 270–71, 282–83.

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to a bishop. The governor of Syria would have spent much time in Antioch, so the city would have been accustomed to his presence and public appearance. Governors certainly would also expect their provincial subjects to cheer for them at any public occasion, as Paul expected his audience to do.51 Clearly, Paul’s enemies intentionally styled him as taking on a too worldly behavior, contrary to what they expected of church leaders. Besides, to the bishops who took this case to the emperor, it might have been advantageous to describe Paul as illegitimately taking on an appearance like that of imperial offi cials, as most likely this would displease the emperor, Paul not being one of his offi cials. To Eusebius, at least, it seemed the most effectively negative way to describe Paul in order to dispose of him effi ciently.

ConclusionWhat are we to make of these two case studies that contain similar elements of “worldly” behavior of bishops in the third century, although Gregory and Paul encountered very different responses to their actions? In Gregory’s case his behavior, which gave him a prominent position among the members of the local elites, was accepted by his audience, who admired him, whereas for Paul the same type of behavior was used as an argument to support the call for his deposition from offi ce. Ironically, Gregory supposedly was present at the synods that were held to discuss Paul’s case.52 Furthermore, the differ-ence in the literary representation of the two men also can be explained in terms of agency. In the case of Gregory, it was the people of Neocaesarea who assigned to him a role of public leadership, and the reader gets the impres-sion that Gregory himself had little infl uence on this process by which he became and was treated as one of the leading members of the local elite. In the case of Paul, on the other hand, it was Paul himself who assumed such a role, whereby he eventually overstretched his position, because this role was not his to take up in the fi rst place. In a way, the case of Gregory provides a story similar to many others telling the lives of saints who were admired dur-ing and after their lives. Paul’s case seems more exceptional, both because of his “negative” behavior and because it refers to a specifi c event involving the history of the church of Antioch. Paul’s attempt to fi nd a mode of behavior by which he could to establish himself outside his church community, but within the larger urban context, however, must have been part of a widespread phe-nomenon among many bishops. To copy the behavior of imperial offi cials,

51 Millar, “Paul of Samosata,” 13. Note the shock felt by Tisamenes, governor of Syria in 386 (PLRE I, 916–917), when he arrived at a theater and the crowds remained silent and seated: Liba-nius Oratio 33.12; see Slootjes, The Governor and his Subjects, 156–57.

52 Euseb. HE 7.28–30, where Gregory is perhaps mentioned under his original name Theodore.

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who provided models for elite behavior, would not have been unreasonable. One might thus argue that the cases of Gregory and Paul offer a mirror image, refl ecting a larger struggle by which the Christian church tried to obtain a fi rm position within Roman society.

As representatives of the highest Christian leadership, bishops played a pivotal role in this process. In those cities where they headed a growing Chris-tian community, they searched to fi nd a place within local power structures which inevitably must have caused a shift in the existing balance of power. As it turned out in the fourth and fi fth centuries, bishops not only were to become the most powerful leading local fi gures, but also would infl uence even the imperial government. The cases of Gregory Thaumaturgus and Paul of Samosata are early illustrations of what in the next two centuries would become normative for the behavior of bishops. Their cases also show that in the third century Christianity was very much in the process of experiencing its defi nitive shift into a mature and leading religious movement.

Radboud University Nijmegen