CHAPTER XII

FROM DIVUS AUGUSTUS TO VICARIUS CHRISTI:

EXAMPLES OF SELF-PRESENTATION
IN A PERIOD OF TRANSITION

DIONYSIOS BENÉTOS

CONSTANTINE: “As the administration

of the state collapsed, I had no
alternative but to restore the admirable
organization of the church. Christians
had raised a passive resistance against
the state, because of the Emperor’s
claim that he was a god. Once I
recognized their own god, they
hastened to admit that the prince is the
appointed representative of god on
earth!”1

In an electric and humorous atmosphere, an imaginary celestial

tribunal is held in order to examine whether Constantine should be
considered holy or not. When I first read these lines in Karagatsis’ novel
many years ago, I wondered whether Constantine could have considered
himself a saint. Could he have really believed that he was the ‘one and
only’ delegate of god on earth and protested this identity Urbi et Orbi?
Indeed this perspective seemed problematic: such an explicit statement of
identity would immediately be seen as a matter of great importance among
the bishops, guards and administrators of the new cult, not to mention, a
serious issue for the rising bishop of Rome.

1 Karagatsis (2008) 1.164; the translation of the Greek text quoted here is my own.
 Since the imperial titles Divus and Pontifex Maximus existed
before the appearance of Christianity, how could Constantine adapt them
to a new, Christian identity of the Emperor? Text sources provide a
multitude of events which present Constantine as being on a miraculous
earthly mission, even following his death, when his bodily remains were
transferred to the Church of the Holy Apostles in Constantinople. This was
likely to be where his greatly symbolic funeral rite took place, being
entombed in the resting place of the Twelve Apostles. With this final
semiotic act of self-presentation Constantine appears to have established a
new image of the Emperor that he had probably been gradually developing
for years.

Fontes sine quibus non

Exactly how much did Eusebius know? We may never be able to answer
this question completely. But there are indications…2

Only indications; in this perspective, an approach to ancient

sources is de re twofold: scholars treat text as literature – thus they are
required to act as artists in order to evaluate the aesthetic result of a
literary work –, and they attempt to uncover the historical information, the
validity of which must always be established. In other words, we must
identify the historical framework before trying to interpret the text within
its literary context.
Sources provide information concerning events, and through
sources we are able to approach a historical era. Events do not actually
exist, at least in the way we imagine them: as detailed photographs that
satisfy the reader’s curiosity about ‘what exactly happened’. Even the
words ‘events’ and ‘exactly’ are essentially incorrect, since they exclude
the observer. They suggest an objective presentation of events, regardless
of any reception and interpretation. Yet we are obliged to reconstruct any
historical figure or act according to sources; they are often an insuperable
limit that should somehow be surpassed if we wish to reconstruct an event.
However, even in the case of an objectively sufficient historical
reconstruction, we are always obliged to take the observer’s innate trait of
subjectivity into account; especially in self-referential texts, such as
autobiographies (i.e. self-presentational recordings), in which the writer
becomes the observer and at the same time the protagonist of any action
recorded. The multiplicity of such difficulties is infinite, and interpreters

2 Drake (1988) 21.

of any ancient text often feel unable to describe what in fact happened. Let
us therefore suggest a convention: maintaining some ‘distance’ while
decoding sources.

Augustus
Augustus died on 19 August AD 14 in Nola, a city of Campania
in Southern Italy, and soon after his death his last will and testament was
read in the Senate. Among other things referred to, there was also a text,
the Res Gestae Divi Augusti, written by Augustus himself, which
contained a list of his accomplishments. This important record of the
official, self-presentational image Augustus had left for the Senate was to
be engraved on two bronze pillars and be placed in front of his mausoleum
in Rome.3 This was one of his last acts that sealed the official public image
Augustus had gradually begun to create soon after the assassination of his
great-uncle Caesar in March 44 BC. From that point onwards, some of
Augustus’ actions seem highly important in constructing and developing a
specific identity, one strongly associated to Julius Caesar.
It was probably on 6 May 44 BC – less than two months after
Caesar’s assassination – that Gaius Octavius returned to Rome4 in order to
take the legal action needed to receive his inheritance from the late
dictator.5 In Rome Octavian, after being informed of his official adoption
by Caesar, accepted Caesar’s legacy, added to his name that of Caesar and
became Gaius Iulius Caesar Octavianus according to the Roman naming
convention.6 We can only guess as to his extent of surprise, particularly
concerning financial issues: Caesar left him three-quarters of his estate.7
Young Octavian organized and financed the Ludi Victoriae
Caesaris to celebrate Caesar’s victories. The games were held for ten days
(20-30 July) in honour of Venus Genetrix,8 Caesar’s personal protector and
mythical ancestress of the Julii. Octavian’s decision to celebrate the games

3
Eck (2007) 1.
4
Ibid. 10.
5 For further reading about Octavius’ exact return to Rome see Southern (2014) 57;

Ramsey & Licht (1997) 1, esp. n. 1.

6
Eck (2007) 10; cf. Southern (2014) 50, 62.
7
Southern (2014) 33.
8 Ibid. 61. For the annual celebration of the games after 43 BC see Beacham (2005)

160. For extensive arguments about literary sources’ references and modern
research concerning the confusion between the Ludi Victoriae Caesaris and the
Ludi Veneris Genetricis (as well as for the term Ludi Funebres used for the games
of July 44 BC) see Ramsey & Licht (1997) 2-57.
just after Caesar’s assassination could lead to promote greater
unpopularity towards Caesar’s murderers, since the Romans did not see
Brutus and his companions as Rome’s liberators from tyranny.9 During
these games – which were actually a sort of funeral celebration – Octavian
would have a unique opportunity to meet the most prominent citizens of
Rome and manifest his devotion and pietas towards Caesar.
During the games a spectacular bright comet appeared, visible
even in daylight during seven of the ten days the games lasted, and sources
reported the comet as a kind of ‘new star’.10 Romans were astonished, and
the sign was generally interpreted as an omen that proved Caesar’s
apotheosis: a sidus Iulium. However, such a positive interpretation –
comets are usually considered baleful11 – might arouse suspicion about a
later Augustan interpretatio of the comet and its connection to Octavian as
the successor of Julius Caesar.12 According to Pliny (NH 2.23) Octavian
privately interpreted the comet as being born for his own sake containing
his own birth within it.
Octavian could now pursue his political career during the
unstable period that followed May 44 BC. The murderers of Caesar were
forced to flee Rome due to the general hostility towards them,13 yet
Octavian was not left alone at the political and military stage.14 Within this
context a celestial phenomenon at the appropriate time ensured young
Octavian that he was most fortunate, as his association with Caesar could
be further utilized through discreet manipulation. Soon after the comet’s
appearance Octavian placed a star on his helmet and on Caesar’s statues,
and depicted the star on coins.15 In this way the positive interpretation of
the comet-star would be strengthened, and would spread a new belief that
Octavian could gradually promote as a component of his new identity: divi
filius. However, he had to be cautious in relating himself to Caesar’s
divinity; he probably realized that a more stable, permanent connection

9
Cf. Goodman (2012) 33.
10
E.g. Ovid (Met. 15.749): sidus novum, stella comans; ibid. (15.850): stella; Suet.
(Iul. 88): stella crinita; Dio (45.17): ἀστὴρ καινός.
11 Cf. Ramsey & Licht (1997) 137; Octavian’s opponents could interpret the comet

as a sign of impending war, see ibid. 92, 137.

12
Ibid. 63, 153. The date for the opening of the games – on July 20, exactly four
months after Caesar’s funeral on March 20 – could have been carefully chosen by
Octavian as most suitable, see ibid. 48.
13
Goodman (2012) 33sqq.
14
Eck (2008) 7-8.
15 Southern (2014) 62; Ramsey & Licht (1997) 136-137.
between the comet-star, its positive interpretation, Caesar, and himself was
needed:

Comet
↓
Star
↓
Julius Caesar
(divus)
↓
Octavian
(pius – divi filius)

This was perhaps one of the motives that informed his decision to
build the temple of Divus Iulius in 42 BC – just two years after the
appearance of the comet –, yet the temple was not dedicated until 29 BC.
Octavian had a strong motive for beginning the construction of the temple,
and such an ‘immediate’ decision seemed to strengthen his new, self-
presentational identity as divi filius. Traces of the process that led from his
earliest identity as ‘young Octavian’ to the established one of ‘son of the
deified Caesar’16 can be found in a Pliny’s passage (NH 2.23), a long time
after Augustus’ death:

The only place in the whole world where a comet is the object of worship
is a temple at Rome. His late Majesty Augustus had deemed this comet
very propitious to himself; as it had appeared at the beginning of his rule,
at some games which, not long after the decease of his father Caesar, as a
member of the college founded by him he was celebrating in honour of
Mother Venus. In fact he made public the joy that it gave him in these
words: ‘On the very days of my Games a comet was visible for seven days
in the northern part of the sky. It was rising about an hour before sunset,
and was a bright star, visible from all lands. The common people believed
that this star signified the soul of Caesar received among the spirits of the
immortal gods, and on this account the emblem of a star was added to the
bust of Caesar that was shortly afterwards dedicated in the forum.’ This
was his public utterance, but privately he rejoiced because he interpreted
the comet as having been born for his own sake and as containing his own
birth within it; and, to confess the truth, it did have a health-giving
influence over the world.17

16
Cf. Southern (2014) 102-104.
17 The translation is that of the Loeb series, by Rackham (1967) 237.
 Around his thirties or perhaps earlier Caesar’s son adopted a
unique name and began calling himself Imperator Caesar Divi Filius, ‘son
of the deified Caesar’; not a single one of his name’s parts corresponded to
the Roman tradition, as Eck argues.18 Probably around the 16 January 27
BC the Senate offered him the title Augustus (RG 34), which refers more
to a religious office than a political one.19 Now his name appeared to be an
ordinary three-part Roman name as Imperator Caesar Augustus. In fact, it
was unique and unprecedented,20 corresponding to a self-presentational
identity which would easily remind anyone of the image Augustus himself
wanted to promote, a title that referred to his imperiis et magistratibus.
However, what about his pietas? Such a question relates to his religious
affairs.
Scheid’s comment on a statement of Suetonius (Aug. 61)
concerning Augustus’ piety is quite illuminating: “The mentions of
Augustus’ piety deal only with his way of conducting public religious
business; Augustus and religion means ‘how Augustus dealt with his
official religious duties’.”21 Furthermore, in the ritualistic Roman religion,
Augustus’ piety seems to be the “correct social relation with the gods …
associating them with the government of the res publica”.22 Therefore,
Augustus’ religious program concerned not only the traditional cult of the
Roman gods, but also a deeper personal role in public religious affairs, a
supreme personal action as Pontifex maximus. After Lepidus’ death in 13
or 12 BC Augustus assumed this office23 and became the high priest of the
Collegium Pontificum.24 Yet, his intention to assume this office can be
detected even from 40 BC, when Augustus – he was still known as
Octavian at this time – systematically controlled the election of pontiffs in
order for his own supporters to progressively be appointed into the
collegium. He also controlled other priestly colleges and facilitated his
intervention in all public priesthoods.25 Augustus’ pietas finally led him to
the highest priesthood in Rome, traditionally conjoined with the office of

18
Eck (2007) 57; cf. Syme (2009) 58-59.
19 Cf. Southern (2014) 196.
20 Eck (2007) 57.
21
Scheid (2005) 176.
22
Ibid. 177.
23 Southern (2014) 260, 323.
24 The pontiffs also aimed to retain the pax deorum, the necessary gods’ approval

concerning human actions. For a further discussion on other aspects of the pax
deorum – such as ‘avoiding the ira deorum’ – see Santangelo (2011) 168-170.
25 Scheid (2005) 180.
the princeps senatus, an office which Augustus already held.26 The
legitimacy of assuming such a supreme office and the long-lived Lepidus
were the main factors that delayed Augustus from this priesthood recorded
in his own words (RG 10):27

I refused to become Pontifex Maximus as a successor to my colleague

while he was still alive, even though the people offered me that priesthood,
which my father held. Some years later, after the death of the man who had
seized this priesthood on the occasion of a civil war, a multitude from the
whole of Italy came together to elect me, a crowd such as they say had
never been seen at Rome before that time.

Thus far, Augustus remained at the state cult level, serving the
mos maiorum as a pontiff, and from 12 BC as the supreme one. This was
the one major feature of his religious agenda that strongly referred to the
Roman tradition and its restoration after the end of the civil wars. The
other one was the so called imperial cult28 – or rather ‘the cult of the
Emperor’ –, a gradual formation of a self-presentational religious identity
and a kind of a symbolic worship of a ἀγαθὸς man who rules καλῶς.29
Beyond the archaic title-name Augustus, Gradel, interpreting an Ovidian
passage (Fast. 1.607-612), saw parallels and synonyms such as divinus and
sanctus:30

sed tamen humanis celebrantur honoribus omnes:

hic socium summo cum Iove nomen habet,
sancta vocant augusta patres, augusta vocantur
templa sacerdotum rite dicata manu;
huius et augurium dependet origine verbi,
et quodcumque sua Iuppiter auget ope.

If we were to adopt this interpretation and take into account any

poetic hyperbole, then the name Augustus was understood by the common
people of the first century BC as a rather obscure synonym of divinus,
indicating the superhuman status. During the reign of Augustus it was
merely a title that held no constitutional or practical consequences. Only
after his death did this title come to mean ‘the Emperor’, and the title
Pontifex Maximus “became a standard part of the imperial titulature for all

26 Bowersock (1990) 380.

27 Cf. ibid. 383. Translation as cited by Bowersock.
28
Cf. Scheid (2005) 176-177.
29
Cf. Galinsky (2011) 3.
30 Gradel (2002) 114-115.
his [i.e. Augustus’] successors”.31 The cult of the Emperor was now well
represented by the archaic title Augustus, and the traditional religion by the
well-known Pontifex Maximus.
Octavian exploited the historical circumstances that provided him
with the events needed after Caesar’s assassination in order to construct
his self-presentational identity. His political leadership was based on a
smart and calculated strategy that offered him the advantage to avoid
political choices as that of the dictator perpetuo; a path that had driven
Caesar to his death. Octavian preferred the principatus, the gradual
acceptance of the most significant state offices, including religious affairs.
From that point onwards, emperors became legal heirs of names and titles
such as Caesar, Augustus, and Pontifex Maximus: title-authorities that
pointed straight to the qualities of the Empire’s one and only ruler, who
obtained all his political and religious offices from the Senate.32
After Augustus’ death, the cult of the Emperor continued until the
late fourth century AD,33 when Theodosius I adopted Christianity as the
official religion of the state, stopped supporting non-Christian cults, and
the traditional Roman gods were gradually abandoned.34 The ‘divinity’ of
the Emperor now impinged on Christianity, and the Emperor had to
determine his standpoint in relation to the one and only god, and all
traditional, intermediate entities between humans and the true god.

Deus, divus, divinus, sanctus

The [divine] qualities had temples, shrines, and statues built to them,
establishing associations between quality and founder, which were then
challenged in a number of ways … . The qualities were drawn on in
speeches to senate and contiones, and in forensic speeches … . The
qualities were graffitied on walls in Pompeii … . They were inscribed and
depicted visually on coins … . They appeared in dramas performed in the
city of Rome, and were evoked by characters of many different statuses in
comedies … . Divine qualities were chanted by theatre audiences who
found resonance with contemporary situations in particular lines of a play
… . Dedications were made to them in Rome and other locations … .

31
Bowersock (1990) 380-381.
32 A narration of Suetonius – in the early years of Hadrian’s reign – about
Augustus’ religious actions (Aug. 30; 31) highlights “a time when the Emperor was
proclaiming his Augustan credentials”, see Wardle (2011) 286.
33
For a further discussion see Sordi (2003) 267; Ramelli (2000) 125sqq.
34 Cf. Salzman (2007) 216-218.
 Prodigies were reported affecting temples, statues, and other
representations of divine qualities … .35

Clark depicts the qualities that rose from the sphere of daily life
to a higher level, the rank of divinity; qualities that gradually received
public cult and were therefore recognized as deities.36 How could we then
define a divinity or a deity? We will discuss a possible interpretative
framework for the use of these two terms following Caesar’s assassination.
For Cicero the gods are in general divi (Leg. 2.19) – in
accordance with the more archaic form of the words deus and divus used
for ‘god’. There are no differences between the eternal gods and those who
became gods via their deification, and the qualities that were obtained
during mortal life leading after death to the status of a deity.37 Traces of
Cicero’s belief can be detected in Plato’s Laws (4.716e): god favors men
with a clean soul.
Here it is important to recall Caesar’s deification. As argued in
the previous section, Caesar was officially recognized as deified,
regardless of any ontological deification. Wardle noticed that “divus
appears only once in Cicero’s extant speeches, and then specially of the
deified Caesar, in the Second Philippic [2.110 (43)], which was composed
months after Caesar’s death by which time the designation Divus Iulius
had been legally conferred on him … . Cicero, then, believed that divus
was the appropriate term for a law”.38 Such a notice is clear and
convincing: divus “was chosen for political rather than philological
reasons”.39
However, if we think in Greek – which is very revealing for the
semantic content of the Latin terms divus and deus after the appearance of
Christianity –, things are rather different. For both Latin words divus and
deus the general Greek rendering is θεός, and the adjective divinus, “which
before the fourth century AD serves as the adjectival form of both deus
and divus”,40 must be interpreted as θεῖος, ‘divine’. Then divus in its turn,
as etymologically closest to divinus, should be interpreted rather as θεῖος

35
Clark (2007) 9-10.
36 Ibid. 12-13.
37 Cf. Wardle (2002) 184-185.
38
Ibid. 186.
39
Ibid. 191.
40 Ibid. 184-185.
than θεός. Some extracts – in both Greek41 and Latin42 – can be very
helpful towards this suggestion:

(A) Examples using identical syntactical structure

GNT καὶ ἐνθυμήσεως ἀνθρώπου, τὸ θεῖον εἶναι ὅμοιον

VUL et cogitationis hominis divinum esse simile (Act. 17.29)

GNT πάντα ἡμῖν τῆς θείας δυνάμεως αὐτοῦ τὰ πρὸς ζωὴν καὶ
εὐσέβειαν
VUL omnia nobis divinae virtutis suae ad vitam et pietatem
(2Pt. 1.3)

GNT ἵνα διὰ τούτων γένησθε κοινωνοὶ θείας φύσεως

VUL ut per haec efficiamini divinae consortes naturae (ibid. 1.4)

These New Testament representative extracts have almost an

identical syntactical structure between the Greek text and its Latin
interpretation. As the editors of the so called Jerome’s Vulgata noticed, the
Latin text of all New Testament books (the above three examples
included) have an Old-Latin base which has been revised: the Gospels
certainly by Jerome (in the mid-380s), the other books by unknown
reviser(s).43 Given that the Old-Latin text goes back more than a century
and a half before Jerome’s revision,44 any ‘final’ form of the Latin text is a
result of a multilevel and long procedure. During that procedure any
reviser could have looked at the Greek text and have transferred into Latin
the Greek syntax. According to this interpretative framework, the most
fundamental text (the New Testament) of Christianity in its Latin version
used the term divinus as an equivalent of the Greek θεῖος. A general,
suitable translation for both the Greek θεῖος and the Latin divinus is
‘someone or something that belongs, comes from or is familiar to the true
God’.
Some other extracts, untouched by Jerome and of pure Old-Latin
base, are beneficial as well. They comprise a specific category, not being

41 The Greek text of the New Testament follows the edition by Nestle & Aland
(2001).
42
The Latin text of the Old and New Testament follows the edition by Weber
(1983).
43 Ibid.
XX; see also Burton (2013) 182.
44
At least the so-called ‘African’ tradition of the Old-Latin text, which can be
dated around AD 250, at the time of Cyprian, bishop of Carthage, or even earlier,
see Burton (2013) 177sqq.
identical, but possessing similar syntactical structure; for this category, it
is not entirely correct to have in mind a direct process from the Greek text
to the Latin one, as some Hebrew text is probably involved during the
interpretation.45 We must also be careful using the term ‘interpretation’,
which does not seem entirely suitable for the relation between the Greek
and Latin passages. The three following examples are taken from the Old
Testament (hence the involvement of the Hebrew text), therefore the
Greek passages of the so called Septuaginta version of the Old
Testament46 and their Latin equivalents of Jerome’s Vulgata must be
treated as parallels rather than interpretations:

(B) Examples using similar syntactical structure

SEP καὶ ὁ μὲν διὰ τὴν θείαν ἐνέργειαν ἄφωνος καὶ πάσης
ἐστερημένος ἐλπίδος ἔρριπτο
VUL et ille quidem per divinam virtutem iacebat mutus
(2Mcc. 3.29)

SEP ἀσεβεῖν γὰρ εἰς τοὺς θείους νόμους οὐ ῥᾴδιον

VUL in leges enim divinas impie agere inpune non cedit (ibid.
4.17)

SEP θείᾳ μάστιγι κατὰ στιγμὴν ἐπιτεινόμενος ταῖς ἀλγηδόσιν

VUL divina admonitus plaga per momenta singula doloribus
suis augmenta capientibus (ibid. 9.11)

Although there are differences in syntactical structure between

the Greek and the Latin text, divinus represents successfully the intonation
that all Greek passages have. The Greek text is very enlightening for the
meaning of the latin divinus: θεῖος, i.e. ‘divine’, without any change to the
general meaning presented above (see examples of category A). However,
in a passage from Ecclesiasticus (= Sirach), the use of divinus calls for a
further interpretation:

(C) Example using further interpretation

SEP εἰσακούσατέ μου, υἱοὶ ὅσιοι

45 As Kraus noticed, the “analysis of the Jewish origins of the Old-Latin has a

significant impact on the textual history of the Hebrew and Greek versions of the
Bible”, including morphology, semantics, syntax and interpretation, see Kraus
(2003) 488-489.
46 The Greek text of the Old Testament follows the edition by Rahlfs (1979).
 VUL obaudite me divini fructus (Sir. 39.13)

This is perhaps the most interesting example of the

aforementioned, as the Latin divinus has a unique Greek parallel: ὅσιος.
Lampe in his Patristic Lexicon gives a variety of ὅσιος interpretations, the
most suitable of which is ‘holy’ or ‘sainted’; they seem to function as
variants of the hypernym ‘god-fearing, religious’. According to this
suggestion, divinus functions as an equivalent of sanctus, a potential
identity for anyone who ‘lives according to god’, regardless of one’s level
of holiness. Could therefore divinus (or divus) function as a suitable
identity trait for a living saint? Under these conditions, it could. For the
new cult, anyone who ‘lives according to god’, presenting heroic virtues
worthy of imitation, is a kind of a ‘living saint’. One could also become an
‘official saint of the church’ following his death, under the condition that
the church introduces him to hagiologion, namely the list of saints
officially worshipped by a local or a wider Christian community. Soon
after his canonization, a new saint receives a ritual, suitable for his level of
holiness and in accordance with the Christian cult.47
Any deification after-death generally contradicts the idea of the
one and only god, the unus et solus Deus.48 Christians, though, started
spreading stories of fishermen who presented extraordinary virtues from a
day known as ‘Pentecost’; they began to speak in other tongues (Act. 2.1-
6), and had no relevant education prior to this event. During their lifetime
they also presented extraordinary, rather supernatural, powers, acting as
intermediates between Deus (Jesus) and the people. The possession of
such powers propelled a human to a θεῖος status: Jesus’ disciples became
θεῖοι, i.e. divi apostoli, as their actions derived from the divine power
bestowed upon them, not by any innate power. Terms such as divinus and
divus could now define the limits between god and humans.

47
Cf. Aug. Civ. 22.10. For further reading on the Greek terms used to describe the
status of deus and divus see Price (1984) 80, 83sqq.
48 For the different ‘kinds’ to which God and humans belong see Levene (2012)

72. Although Levene describes the Roman ‘status’ regarding the distinction
between the two different ‘kinds’, gods and humans, such an approach is
convenient even for the Christian belief about the existence of the one and only
god: “Gods were conceived as having a nature which was fundamentally distinct
from humans, and which was associated with a group of properties … . This meets
all the criteria for demonstrating that gods and humans were not imagined as being
part of the same ‘kind’ with different statuses, but were rather imagined as being
entirely different ‘kinds’”, see ibid.
 Within such a framework the Emperor had all the necessary
semantic tools to proclaim himself a living intermediary between god and
the people. He continued to be a Divus Augustus, even after a controversy
lasting over four centuries between the rising unique, absolute and
undisputable deity, and a widespread – not only Roman – belief regarding
god’s intermediaries.

Syncretism, persecution, tolerance

So far we have investigated some imperial identity-components
that depicted the ‘deity’ of the Emperor. Christianity contributed to a
further evolution of this imperial identity, becoming a rising force within a
religious market, and therefore intensifying the pre-existing syncretism,49
which could not have left the ‘divinity’ of the Emperor unaffected. The
Roman Pantheon and rising Christianity had already begun a debate; for
the Emperor – and the rising administration of the new cult, the bishops –
it gradually became of great importance and defined their self-
presentational identity. During this debate Constantine seems to have
manipulated a similar scenario along the lines of Augustus: he supported
the ‘Christian’ cult of the Emperor, thus he “began Christianity’s
conversion to a form of imperial Roman religion”.50

Aggression – Persecution
A record of Suetonius (Claud. 25.4) reflects one of the very first
hostile acts by the Roman authorities against Christians: Claudius expelled
all the Jews from Rome, since they were making constant disturbances at
the instigation of some ‘Chrestus’. It is quite possible that this action took
place in 49. Early Christians, like Paul and his followers, were then
considered to be authentic members of the Jewish community (Act. 28.17-
24). Despite any religious debate, there must have been a sort of tolerance,

49
For instance, during a long period of theological evolution, primary Christian
thought shared the Jewish conception about the existence of one and only god
(non-trinitarian). In Greek thought – especially under Roman rule – there was also
a strong tendency towards monotheism, as pagan gods were considered as aspects
or powers of the one supreme god, see May (2006) 434. Since early Christianity
there was also a syncretism between Jesus and Apollonius of Tyana, “who has at
various times been seen as a rival both to Jesus and his saints”, see Elsner (2009)
655, esp. 669sqq. For the range of religious syncretism in Rome at the time of the
Severan dynasty see Vertoudakis (2013) 120-122.
50 Fredriksen (2006) 587.
according to a narration of Luke (Act. 18.12-17); some Gallio – the
proconsul of Achaia – at Corinth, did not condemn Paul and rejected the
accusations of the Jews that he “persuaded men to worship God contrary
to the law”.51 But after the massive fire in July 64, which almost destroyed
Rome, things changed,52 if we are to believe Tacitus (Ann. 15.44):

Nero fabricated scapegoats – and punished with every refinement the

notoriously depraved Christians (as they were popularly called). Their
originator, Christ, had been executed in Tiberius’ reign by the governor of
Judaea, Pontius Pilatus. But in spite of this temporary setback the deadly
superstition had broken out afresh, not only in Judaea (where the mischief
had started) but even in Rome. All degraded and shameful practices collect
and flourish in that capital.
First, Nero had self-acknowledged Christians arrested. Then, on their
information, large numbers of others were condemned – not so much for
incendiarism as for their anti-social tendencies. Their deaths were made
farcical. Dressed in wild animals’ skins, they were torn to pieces by dogs,
or crucified, or made into torches to be ignited after dark as substitutes for
daylight.53

Tacitus’ contemporary – and younger – Suetonius (Nero, 16.2) does

not blame the Christians for the fire, but Nero himself, who due to
miscellaneous police acts finally punished the Christians, “those people
who held a new and impious superstition”. However, the attempt to
evaluate the scale of any aggression or persecution must take into account
the number of Christians that existed in Rome during the second century.
Apart from some large cities such as Alexandria, Antioch, Carthage
and, of course, Rome, Christian numbers were low prior to 200.54
Eusebius (HE 6.43) gave an account of the clerical establishment at Rome
in 251:55 “155 clergy who ranged in rank from church doorkeepers to the
bishop, and 1,500 widows who were supported by the church’s charity”.56
Two years earlier, in 249, Decius had already ordered all citizens to
perform a sacrifice to the gods for the eternity of the Empire.57 This is the

51 See also Frend (2006) 503.

52 Ibid. 503-504.
53
The translation is that of the Penguin Classics series, by Grant (1988) 365.
54
Mitchell (2007) 239.
55 The only statistical evidence regarding the question ‘how many Christians were

there in the third century?’; for an analysis on this passage of Eusebius see Lee
(2000) 39-40.
56
Mitchell (2007) 239.
57 Ando (2012) 135.
first time that Christians faced legislation that concerned their own
religious affairs.
Regardless of any widespread persecution or not, Roman governors
seem to have been interested only in “a little more than confirmation that
one was religious”.58 However, some Christians might have seen this
confirmation as opposing their cult, thus they supported their belief by
martyrdom,59 a practice that led to an image of a church consisted mainly
of confessors and martyrs. This image “presented the church leadership
around the world with a challenge and an opportunity to assert their own
authority in that debate”.60 Therefore, we should not consider a church that
consisted only of confessors and martyrs, but also of the high clergy, the
bishops; the first referring to faith, the second to its administration.
The persecution under Decius ended when his edict ran its course
by the spring of 251. Several months later, in June, Decius died fighting
Gothic invaders in the Battle of Abrit(t)us. However, the period of
persecutions would not end until Diocletian – in the 290s he attempted to
purge the army of Christians61 – and Galerius; for Diocletian and his
colleagues the promotion of the ancient gods was elevated to an issue of
great importance.62 As the ‘right’ religion – the old Roman cult
necessitated the identification of the ‘wrong’ religion, the relevant edicts
ordered the destruction of churches, burning of scriptures, degradation of
Christians in administration and the arrest and imprisonment of clergy
unless they offered sacrifice. Finally, in 311, Galerius’ Edict of Toleration
– in the name of his colleagues Licinius and Constantine as well – lifted
the legal sanctions against Christians in the terms that beside their own
worship they should offer prayers for the Emperor and the Empire.63
At the same time Christians, aided perhaps by the difficult
situation in the local rural economies within the Empire – although the
scale of damage of such economies is disputed64 – acquired new believers
and ex-pagan devotees. Yet others saw Christians in a polemic way, such
as Porphyry of Tyre, who between 270 and c. 300 wrote his fifteen-

58 Ibid. 138.
59 Cf. ibid. 137-139. As Ando argued, “the sanest history of the persecutions
remains Frend, Martyrdom and Persecution [in the early Church. Oxford 1965]”.
See also Green (2010) 141sqq.
60 Green (2010) 148.
61 Ibid. 150, 161, 169.
62
Harries (2012) 81.
63
Ibid. 84, 88-89, 93.
64 For examples on local economies during the third century AD see ibid. 10-13.
volume work Against the Christians.65 Some years later Eusebius (HE,
8.1) referred to Christianity as a faith that has spread to every known
place, since one could see large churches in every city.

Christianity as superstition
What in fact was Christianity for a Roman? Superstitio and not
religio. Religion was considered the performance of rites and ceremonies
relating to the mos maiorum and the traditional gods of the Roman
Pantheon. Gods, goddesses, personified natural forces or human qualities
that led to deification enjoyed acceptance only if officially recognized by
the state, and under the general condition that any cult should be openly
worshipped; one could worship in private only those gods received from
the ancestors. Religion therefore functioned as a social bond, enforcing
relationship between members of the same community who performed
various rites. It was considered to be a matter of the state and in Cicero
(Leg. 2.19) it is acceptable as such:

Let no one have gods separately, neither new nor foreign, unless they have
been recognized publicly; let them worship in private those whose worship
has been duly handed down by their ancestors.
Let them have sanctuaries in the cities; let them have groves in the country
and homes for their Lares.
Let them preserve the rituals of their family and ancestors.
Let them worship both those who have always been considered gods of
heaven and those whose deeds have placed them in heaven: Hercules,
Liber, Aesculapius, Castor, Pollux, Quirinus. Furthermore, as to those
praiseworthy qualities on account of which ascent into heaven is granted to
humans – Intelligence, Virtue, Piety, Faith – let there be sanctuaries for
them, but none for vices.
Let them take part in customary rites.66

Within such a Ciceronian framework Christianity appeared

incomprehensible for Romans. It was therefore a ‘wrong’ religion, a
superstition. In the early fourth century the distinction between the ‘right’
(religio) and the ‘wrong’ (superstitio) belief was connected to Diocletian’s
politics against Christians:67 everything not understood – therefore not

65 The work is challenged not only for the date of its composition, but for its title as

well; most of it was left in fragments, as various imperial edicts ordered its
destruction, see Magny (2010) 516-517, n. 5.
66
The translation is that of the Cambridge series, by Zetzel (1999) 136.
67 Cf. Harries (2012) 84-85.
acceptable – had potentially dangerous results for social cohesion, and the
state would then have the legal right to intervene. Christians had already
introduced a new and unofficial god to the Empire by proclaiming the
divinity of Jesus,68 and this was the accusation Paul and Silas faced at
Philippi (Act. 16.19-21); the debate took place publicly, in the middle of
the marketplace:

And when her masters saw that the hope of their gains was gone, they
caught Paul and Silas, and drew them into the marketplace unto the rulers,
and brought them to the magistrates, saying: “These men, being Jews, do
exceedingly trouble our city, and teach customs which are not lawful for us
to receive, neither to observe, being Romans”.

Christians could also raise some further suspicions that their cult
was a vana et demens superstitio, a vain and senseless superstition. During
their fundamental worship, the Eucharist, they repeated Jesus’ words (Mt.
26.26-28): “Take, eat; this is my body. … All of you drink it, for this is
my blood …”; but such a ‘confession of faith’ could easily be interpreted
as a cannibalistic appetite.69 Another issue was the devotion to their god,
who was also the king of a kingdom they prayed to come (Mt. 6.10). Justin
defended the spiritual nature of this kingdom (1 Apol. 11), and Tertullian
had already – before Decius’ edict – declared (Apol. 30; 32; 33; 39) that
Christians were willing to pray for the long life of the Emperor, a secure
rule, a safe home, brave armies and so on, since the Emperor was chosen
by god, who gave him the Empire.70 Yet, for some Christians this Empire
was in a state of decadence. Seneca noticed the crisis of the traditional
cult, and this concern (Nat. 7.32) had an impact on Tertullian (An. 20),
Lactantius (Inst. 1.5), Jerome (Iov. 1.49) and Augustine (Civ. 6.10)
concerning their impression about a general decline of the pagan world:

Who respects a philosopher or any liberal study except when the games are
called off for a time or there is some rainy day which he is willing to
waste? And so many schools of philosophy are dying without a successor.
The Academy, both the Old and the New, has no professor left. Who is

68 “Two modes of deification appear in early Christian texts. The first might called
‘deification through exaltation’ and the second ‘deification through pre-existence.’
It appears that early Christians quickly came to depict Jesus as a preexistent divine
being”, see Litwa (2014) 4.
69 For a further discussion on accusations against Christians see e.g. Cook (2011)

52, n. 104.
70
For a further discussion on the charges against Christians see de Ste. Croix et al.
(2006) 110-113.
 then to teach the precepts of Pyrrho? That famous school of Pythagoras,
hated by the rabble, has not found a teacher.71

Constantine
During Constantine’s reign, Christianity had for the first time the
opportunity to enjoy official protection by the Emperor as one of the
Empire’s cults, but not as the one and only official religion. Such an issue
would have to wait for Theodosius I (379-395), who adopted Christianity
as the state religion and stopped supporting non-Christian cults.
Constantine generally acted in accordance with Galerius’ edict, which was
issued in 311 – followed by the so-called Edict of Milan in 313 –,
legalizing Christianity throughout the Empire.72

Praenotanda
Constantine was irritable and impulsive, and when Galerius
celebrated a victorious campaign against the Persians at Nicomedia, he
was surprised to see a young Constantine entering the arena to face a lion
from Numidia, finally killing to the cheers of the crowd. “How much of
this can be trusted is unclear, but Constantine had at least acquitted
himself admirably enough to attain the rank of tribune of the first order by
late 305”, as Lenski noticed.73 He probably had significant military and
administrative skills, thus he was sent – after 305 – to the West of the
Empire in order to help his father Constantius in Britain; he did not wait
for Galerius’ permission, but left at night. The legend tells that he reached
his father only at his deathbed at York; he actually met Constantius in
Bononia (Boulogne), shortly before Constantius’ return to Britain to fight
the Picts. Many months later Constantius died in Eburacum (York) with
his son at his deathbed.74
On 25 July 306 the legions at York, a dying Constantius, and a
Germanic king fighting alongside the Romans, supported the elevation of
Constantine to Emperor, to the rank of full Augustus. For the other
Tetrarchs Constantine was a usurper, he therefore employed a range of
agile political maneuverings in order to secure his position as a young

71
The translation is that of the Loeb series, by Corcoran (1972) 297.
72 Lactantius’ copy of the text of the alleged edict (Mort. 48) is a version of a letter
sent to the governor of Bithynia (Palestine, in Eusebius), see Corcoran (1996) 189.
See also Carotenuto (2002) 57, 59.
73
Lenski (2012) 61.
74 Ibid.
Augustus: he strengthened his alliance with the senior Augustus Maximian
by marrying his young daughter Fausta, walking out on his companion
Minervina. He also gain permission from Maximian to claim the title
Augustus. However, things changed severely when Maximian committed
suicide following a revolt against Constantine. His son Maxentius –
despite the complete rift between him and his father since 308 – opposed
Constantine, “proclaiming [in 312] his resolve to avenge his [father’s]
murder”.75
This is a short account of the historical background leading to the
final battle between Constantine and Maxentius. Prior to the battle a
crucial event took place, with ramifications both for the future of the
Empire and for Constantine himself; a vision that proved itself crucial to
the victory Constantine gained over Maxentius, and significant in our
attempt to reconstruct the self-presentational identity of Constantine.

A vision, a prayer, a dream

Greek and Latin sources mention that Constantine had a vision
either while awake or in a dream. Christian Lactantius – the tutor of Latin
to his son Crispus – refers to this vision (Mort. 44) as follows:76

Constantine was advised in a dream to mark the heavenly sign of God on

the shields of his soldiers and then engage in battle. He did as he was
commanded and by means of the slanted letter X with the top of its head
bent round, he marked Christ on their shields. Armed with this sign, the
army took up its weapons. The enemy came to meet them without their
emperor [Maxentius] and crossed the bridge. … Maxentius marched out to
battle. The bridge was cut behind him. At the sight of this, the fighting
became tougher, and the Hand of God was over the battle-line. The army
of Maxentius was seized with terror, and he himself fled in haste to the
bridge which had been broken down; pressed by the mass of fugitives, he
was hurtled into the Tiber.77

According to the Eusebian version of the event (HE 9.9) –

Eusebius first met Constantine at the Council of Nicaea during June and
July AD 325, a significant time after Maxentius’ defeat at the Milvian
Bridge – Constantine merely prayed before the battle:

75 Ibid. 61-62, 64-66, 68.

76
For a discussion on the Eusebian narration concerning the event before the Battle
in Milvian Bridge see van Dam (2011) 7.
77 The translation is that of the Oxford series, by Creed (1984) 63, 65.
 Constantine, the superior of the Emperors in rank and dignity, was the first
to take pity in those subjected to tyranny at Rome; and, calling in prayer
upon God who is in heaven, and His Word, even Jesus Christ the Saviour
of all, as his ally, he advanced in full force, seeking to secure for the
Romans their ancestral liberty.78

However, neither of these two accounts can be compared to

Eusebius’ narration in his Vita Constantini (1.28-31). In a passage far
more extensive and descriptive than the relevant in his Historia
Ecclesiastica (9.9), Eusebius inserts – more than twenty-five years after
the battle – an elaborate story, a dream. In this passage Constantine
appears to be a pious Emperor and a preserver of the faith, a Great
Constantine, who does not hesitate to confirm by oath in front of god the
truth of his narration. It is however the same Constantine who had given
assurances under oath to his brother-in-law Licinius that he would not be
harmed; the latter was executed after his defeat on a charge of attempted
rebellion:79

… there appeared to the Emperor a most remarkable divine sign. If

someone else had reported it, it would perhaps not be easy to accept; but
since the victorious Emperor himself told the story to the present writer a
long while after, when I was privileged with his acquaintance and
company, and confirmed it with oaths, who could hesitate to believe the
account, especially when the time which followed provided evidence for
the truth of what he said? About the time of the midday sun, when day was
just turning, he said he saw with his own eyes, up in the sky and resting
over the sun, a cross-shaped trophy formed from light, and the text
attached to it which said, ‘By this conquer’. Amazement at the spectacle
seized both him and the whole company of soldiers which was then
accompanying him on the campaign he was conducting somewhere, and
witnessed the miracle.
He was, he said, wondering to himself what the manifestation might mean;
then, while he meditated, and thought long and hard, night overtook him.
Thereupon, as he slept, the Christ of God appeared to him with the sign
which had appeared in the sky, and urged him to make himself a copy of
the sign which had appeared in the sky, and to use this as protection
against the attacks of the enemy. When day came he arose and recounted

78
The translation is that of the Loeb series, by Oulton & Lawlor (1932) 359.
79 The syntax of the Greek text is emphatic, in order to enhance the image of a
‘reliable’ Emperor; the words (1.28) ὅρκοις, πιστωσαμένου, ἀμφιβάλοι and
πιστεῦσαι – set very close to each other – reveal Eusebius’s anxiety for a more
solid proof of the event. For the relevant Greek passage see the edition of the
Sources Chrétiennes series, by Winkelmann (2013) 218.
 the mysterious communication to his friends. Then he summoned
goldsmiths and jewelers, sat down among them, and explained the shape of
the sign, and gave them instructions about copying it in gold and precious
stones.
This was something which the Emperor himself once saw fit to let me also
set in eyes on, God vouchsafing even this. It was constructed to the
following design. A tall pole plated with gold had a transverse bar forming
the shape of a cross. Up at the extreme top a wreath woven of precious
stones and gold had been fastened. On it two letters, intimating by its first
characters the name ‘Christ’, formed the monogram of the Saviour’s title,
rho being intersected in the middle by chi. These letters the Emperor also
used to wear upon his helmet in later times. From the transverse bar, which
was bisected by the pole, hung suspended a cloth, an imperial tapestry
covered with a pattern of precious stones fastened together, which glittered
with shafts of light, and interwoven with much gold, producing an
impression of indescribable beauty on those who saw it. This banner then,
attached to the bar, was given equal dimensions of length and breadth. But
the upright pole, which extended upwards a long way from its lower end,
below the trophy of the cross and near the top of the tapestry delineated,
carried the golden head-and-shoulders portrait of the God-beloved Emperor,
and likewise of his sons. This saving sign was always used by the Emperor
for protection against every opposing and hostile force, and he commanded
replicas of it to lead all his armies.80

The inscription on the arch that was raised in Rome – many years
before Constantine became the christianized Emperor we meet in both
Lactantius’ and Eusebius’ narrations – provides an account of the skills he
had demonstrated against his enemies. As to the celestial ‘vision’, ‘prayer’
or ‘dream’, the text only refers to a divine inspiration:

IMP[ERATORI] CAES[ARI] FL[AVIO] CONSTANTINO MAXIMO

P[IO] F[ELICI] AVGVSTO S[ENATVS] P[OPVLVS]Q[VE]
R[OMANVS] QVOD INSTINCTV DIVINITATIS MENTIS
MAGNITVDINE CVM EXERCITV SVO TAM DE TYRANNO QVAM
DE OMNI EIVS FACTIONE VNO TEMPORE IVSTIS REM
PVBLICAM VLTVS EST ARMIS ARCVM TRIVMPHIS INSIGNEM
DICAVIT

To the Emperor Caesar Flavius Constantine the great, dutiful, and fortunate
Augustus, the Senate and the People of Rome – because, with inspiration
of divinity and greatness of mind, with his army, by just arms he avenged

80 The translation is that of the Oxford series, by Cameron & Hall (1999) 80-82.
 the state both from the tyrant and from all of his faction at the same time –
dedicated this arch as symbol of triumphs.81

The arch next to the Colosseum in Rome commemorated

Constantine’s tenth year of rule (decennalia) in 315-316, and his earlier
victory over Maxentius in 312. He owed his victory to divine inspiration,
either he had a close association with a solar deity – or some other of the
Roman Pantheon – or the Christian’s god. It is not possible to determine
whether the inscription was dictated by the Senate or Constantine.
Eusebius claims (VC 1.48; 4.10) that during his visit to Rome Constantine
offered up prayers to the all mighty god, the king of all, but made no
sacrifices including fire or smoke. Pagans and Christians could both
recognize their own deity, since in the inscription ‘it happened to be left
unnamed’. Constantine was an Emperor, soon he had to face other
enemies, and in his army there were both pagans and Christians alike.

Pontifex Maximus: the bishop vs. the Emperor

We have already discussed that Octavian adopted the title
Pontifex Maximus when he became the head of the Collegium Pontificum.
According to Benoist, the title denoted a specific imperial quality that was
never fully rejected, not even by Gratian in 382/83 or earlier, at the
beginning of his reign in 375/76.82
For Christianity – essentially for the high clergy, the bishops – this
traditional imperial title was elevated to an issue of great importance. The
bishops gradually started to be seen as having full administration over the
church, contradicting any traditional right of the Emperor, and creating a
self-presentational image based on a critical passage from the New
Testament (Mt. 16.18-19):

And I say also unto thee, that thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build
my church; and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. And I will give

81 For the transcription, an English translation and a commentary on the inscription

see Bardill (2012) 222-230. For the ‘divine inspiration’ and its connection to the
Christian god see Odahl (2004) 121. For the arch’s façade advertising
Constantine’s “more generic activities … in a series of iconographical scenes” see
van Dam (2007) 30.
82 Benoist (2009) 43-44. It remains uncertain if Gratian rejected his title as Pontifex

Maximus, see e.g. Cameron (2007) 372: “… in a sense Gratian could indeed be
said to have rejected the supreme pontificate, though by redefining rather than by
refusing to accept it”.
 unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt
bind on earth shall be bound in heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt loose on
earth shall be loosed in heaven.

Given that for Christianity any passage of the gospel is considered a

fundamental one, this specific one started being interpreted as an
undisputable spiritual and administrative privilege of Peter’s successor, the
Roman high-priest. The bishop of Rome interpreted the personal primacy
of honor given to Peter as a sort of administrative primacy over the other
apostles. Hence, he started acting as a Pontifex Maximus over the other
Pontifices.
According to the tradition of the Roman church, Peter the first
bishop of Rome was also Peter the disciple of Jesus. Let us accept that,
regardless of any doubt, Peter the disciple of Jesus indeed went to Rome.83
Let us also accept that, regardless of any interpretative approach about
what exactly this passage of the gospel means, Peter the disciple of Jesus
had indeed received not a personal primacy of honor, but full
administrative power over all the apostles – and thus over the church that
was about to be born. Then, we should accept that this passage became an
issue of great importance for two people, the bishop of Rome and the
Emperor. The bishop claimed that he possessed the administration of the
church. The Emperor – definitely Constantine, whether he was Christian
or not – soon realized that someone other than himself claimed the
administration over one of the cults worshiped throughout the Empire.

Callistus I, bishop of Rome

In 217, Callistus was elected to bishop of Rome, succeeding
Zephyrinus. He was a great rival of Hippolytus of Rome, who attacked
Callistus’ leadership and accused him (Haer. 9.12.1-13) of having been “a
household slave of a Christian imperial freedman, in whose name he
established a banking business with deposits from other Christians in the
community”.84 Hippolytus also attacked (ibid. 9.12.20-26) Callistus’ edict
awarding forgiveness of sins, according to which, if a bishop was guilty of

83
It remains uncertain whether Peter, Jesus’ disciple, reached Rome. The Acts
refer with certainty to Paul’s journey, his arrival in Rome, and his preaching, see
e.g. Act. 19.21; 23.11; 28.13-20; 28.30-31.
84 See Sessa (2012) 89. For the Greek relevant passages of Hippolytus (Haer.

9.12.1-13; 9.12.20-26) see the edition of the Patristische Text und Studien series,
by Marcovich (1986) 350-351; Migne publishes the text under the name of
Origenes, see PG 16.3.3379sqq.
a sin – even ‘a sin unto death’ –, he ought not to be deposed. Furthermore,
one who had been twice or even thrice married could still be ordained into
the clerical office as bishop, priest, deacon, and so on. Callistus also
granted absolution of some other sins, including fornication and adultery,
based on his interpretation of a passage of Paul (Rm. 14.4). In order to
straighten out his edict, he invoked the authority of the bishop of Rome
over other bishops, therefore possessing higher judgment over any other
opinions held. This is considered the earliest occasion whereby the bishop
of Rome promoted himself to a primus. The semiotics of Callistus’ act
indicated a Pontifex Maximus not only with an authority of spiritual
guidance, but also as a more authentic bishop over all other bishops.
Tertullian (Pud. 21) openly accuses Callistus of self-promotion: the
bishop of Rome tried to present himself as the single and true heir of
Peter’s personal primatus; a primacy that Jesus gave only to Peter his
disciple, and not to any of his potential successors:

If, because the Lord has said to Peter, “Upon this rock will I build my
church,” “to thee have I given the keys of the heavenly kingdom;” or,
“Whatsoever thou shalt have bound or loosed in earth, shall be bound or
loosed in the heavens,” you therefore presume that the power of binding
and loosing has derived to you, that is, to every church akin to Peter, what
sort of man are you, subverting and wholly changing the manifest intention
of the Lord, conferring (as that intention did) this (gift) personally upon
Peter? “On thee,” He says, “will I build my church;” and, “I will give to
thee the keys,” not to the church; and, “Whatsoever thou shalt have loosed
or bound,” not what they shall have loosed or bound.85

Tertullian’s comment contradicts the heredity of the primatus, and

the passage reveals Callistus’ latent reasoning, which in Aristotelian terms
(cf. Pol. 1.1253a) could be considered as the gradual substitution of the
whole by the part: if a bishop – not just any, but the one pertaining to the
Empire’s capital – is self-promoted as the first, in any aspect, among
bishops, then he could be recognized as better and wiser. Finally, he could
be considered as the best of all, thus the title ‘bishop of Rome’ could then
become a synonym of the church itself. Tertullian (Pud. 1) is quite
revealing:

I hear that there has even been an edict set forth, and a peremptory one too.
The Sovereign Pontiff [Pontifex Maximus] (!) – the Bishop of bishops –
issues an edict: ‘I remit, to such as have discharged the requirements of

85
The translation is that of the Ante-Nicene Christian Library series, by Roberts &
Donaldson (1870) 18.3.118
 repentance, the sins both of adultery and of fornication.’ O edict, on which
cannot be inscribed ‘well done!’… But it is in the church that this edict is
read, and in the church that it is pronounced: and she is a virgin! Far, far
from Christ’s betrothed be such a proclamation! … since even the earthly
temple of God can sooner have been called by the Lord a den of robbers,
than of adulterers and fornicators.86

A rational reconstruction of the procedure that led to the identity of

the bishop of Rome reveals his self-presentational status as Pontifex
Maximus, and it can be demonstrated as follows:

(aliquis) Petrus Ecclesiae Romanae = Petrus Apostolus

↓
Successor Petri Apostoli = Episcopus Romanus
↓
Episcopus Romanus = Pontifex Maximus
↓
Pontifex Maximus ~ Summus Pontifex etc.87
↓
Ego sum Ecclesia ipsa

Around 217 the bishop of Rome appears to have read accurately the
gospel passage referring to his authority. A century later, Constantine also
seems to have realized the consequences of a potential new administrative
diarchy in the state, a diarchy that he had narrowly avoided following
Licinius’ defeat. It therefore seems that the bishop and the Emperor
hastened to be self-presented via significant semiotic acts, and to claim the

86
Translation by Stevenson & Frend (2013) 196-197.
87
Forms of the same title, from early Christianity till the eleventh century – when
Pontifex Maximus referred only to the bishop of Rome –, indicate either the bishop
of Rome or other bishops. The Theodosian edict (16.1.2) on February 27, AD 380,
refers to the bishop of Rome as pontifem, and to the bishop of Alexandria as
episcopum (for the text see the edition by Mommsen (1905) 1.2.833); Sozomenos
(HE 7.4) refers to Δάμασος ὁ Ῥώμης ἐπίσκοπος καὶ Πέτρος ὁ Ἀλεξανδρείας, i.e.
Damasus, the bishop of Rome and Peter, the bishop of Alexandria (for the text and
a translation into German see the edition of the Fontes Christiani series, by Hansen
(2004) 844); Eucherius of Lyon (Instruct. ad Salon. 1.praef.) mentions Hilary, the
bishop of Arles, as a Summus Pontifex (for the text of Eucherius see PL 50.773,
B12-14). “It should be noted that pontifex had for some time been a standard term
for Christian priests, especially bishops. By the 360s (if not earlier) the bishop of
Rome was regularly styled pontifex urbis Romae and even summus (though not till
the Renaissance maximus) pontifex”, see Cameron (2007) 361.
very same title, Pontifex Maximus, which referred to the administration of
the church and the unity of the Empire.

The Council of Nicaea

In 325 Constantine convened a general assembly of the bishops,
which came to be known as the First Oecumenical Council of Nicaea in
Bithynia, a city chosen for various political and religious reasons. The
main issue to be addressed by the Council was the reconciliation of
varying opinions, in order to determine the precise content of the Christian
faith. The council had a precedent that provided the canonical background
needed, the so-called Council of Jerusalem (Act.15.6-11; cf. 17-20), where
the Apostles discussed issues concerning preaching to the Jews and the
Gentiles. It seems therefore that there was no need for anyone but the
bishops – as the Apostles’ successors – to be present in a council
concerning religious affairs. As de Ste. Croix argued,88 Constantine’s
presence in the Council of Nicaea substantiated the critical role of the
Emperor within the administration of the church. The latter was
accomplished by his strongly semiotic presence; Eusebius (VC 3.10)
describes the Emperor’s impressive entrance at the very opening of the
council:

On the day appointed for the Council, on which it was to reach a resolution
of the issues in dispute, every one was present to do this, in the very
innermost hall of the palace, which appeared to exceed the rest in size.
Many tiers of seating had been set along either side of the hall. Those
invited arrived within, and all took their appointed seats. When the whole
council had with proper ceremony taken their seats, silence fell upon them
all, as they awaited the Emperor’s arrival. One of the Emperor’s company
came in, then a second, then a third. Yet others led the way, not some of
the usual soldiers and guards, but only of his faithful friends. All rose at a
signal, which announced the Emperor’s entrance; and he finally walked
along between them, like some heavenly angel of God, his bright mantle
shedding luster like beams of light, shining with the fiery radiance of a
purple robe, and decorated with the dazzling brilliance of gold and

88
“Invoking the assistance of the emperor in this manner, in trying to crush
opponents, involved the Christians in submitting to the emperor’s will in many
ways, even in the settlement of strictly theological disputes. In particular it came to
be recognized that the General Council of the church, an ‘Oecumenical’ Council,
could be summoned only by an emperor, and when and where he pleased; if he
wished to influence its decisions, he could do so decisively”, see de Ste. Croix et
al. (2006) 224.
 precious stones. Such was his physical appearance. As for his soul, he was
clearly adorned with fear and reverence for God: this was shown by his
eyes, which were cast down, the blush on his face, his gait, and the rest of
his appearance, his height, which surpassed all those around him … by his
dignified maturity, by the magnificence of his physical condition, and by
the vigor of his matchless strength. All these, blended with the elegance of
his manners and the gentleness of imperial condescension, demonstrated
the superiority of his mind surpassing all description. When he reached the
upper end of the rows of seats and stood in the middle, a small chair made
of gold having been set out, only when the bishops assented did he sit
down. They all did the same after the Emperor.89

Constantine introduced the Emperor’s behavior pattern that

concerned the administration of the high clergy and avoided backlash. The
Emperor’s personal maneuvering of the bishops also indicated the one and
only semiotic norm for an Emperor who aims to gain presidency over the
church not by edict, and to secure peace within the Empire. Eusebius
seems to have understood the pattern Constantine promoted whilst dealing
with the summoned bishops, and transformed the event into a more
elaborate account of the Emperor’s administrative primacy (VC 4.24):

Hence it is not surprising that on one occasion, when entertaining bishops

to dinner, he let slip the remark that he was perhaps himself a bishop too,
using some such words as these in our hearing: ‘You are bishops of those
within the Church, but I am perhaps a bishop appointed by God over those
outside.’ In accordance with this saying, he exercised a bishops’
supervision over all his subjects, and pressed them all, as far as lay in his
power, to lead the godly life.90

The Greek text is rather obscure concerning what exactly

Eusebius tries to indicate (ἐγὼ δὲ τῶν ἐκτὸς ὑπὸ θεοῦ καθεσταμένος
ἐπίσκοπος ἂν εἴην). Constantine is vaguely depicted as an “overseer of
[the] Church’s external affairs or perhaps as [a] ‘bishop’ of non-
Christians”, according to Lampe. It seems the narration intends to
transform the image of the ‘godsent Emperor’ to a hybrid identity of a
‘bishop-Emperor appointed by God’, and Eusebius’ anxiety to present a
rather ‘clericalized’ image of the Emperor seems obvious.
Constantine during the Council of Nicaea reaffirmed the semiotic
image of a political leader standing at the head of the church, who
maintained the Roman tradition commanding that the administration of
any cult should be a matter of the state. Within this framework, any latent

89
The translation is that of the Oxford series, by Cameron & Hall (1999) 125.
90 Ibid. 161.
suggestion of Eusebius concerning a ‘political ministry’ of the state over
the church can be subjected to criticism.

Vicarius Christi
Constantine’s so-called vision as well as the events following the
battle at the Milvian Bridge gradually strengthened the image of an
‘Emperor approved by the voice of god who gave him the Empire’. In
Christian terms, Constantine must be considered as a pious Emperor, a
living ὅσιος, and a saint after his death, a chosen by God as his personal
envoy to fulfill his will: a triumphing Constantine over Maxentius and his
pagan beliefs, liberating the new faith from tyranny. This is a Eusebian
Constantine, emerging from a summarized Vita Constantini. It complies
with the imperial image of a Divus Augustus inherited from Octavian. For
what is more, this image reveals another title that Constantine never
openly claimed, but seems to have acquired ‘by god himself’ at the
Milvian Bridge and by the Council of Nicaea: Vicarius Christi. The former
part (Divus) of his imperial identity has already been discussed; for the
second (Vicarius) there are some indications based on further semiotic acts
carried out by Constantine.

The semiotics of the Church of the Holy Apostles

On 22 May 337 Constantine died in Nicomedia following a brief
illness. Eusebian Constantine was baptized on his deathbed by the bishop
of Nicomedia, but he had probably planned to have himself baptized in the
Jordan River while on campaign in 337.91 Potter believes that his body
must have undergone some form of preservation. His body was transferred
to the mausoleum Constantine had built across town in Constantinople,
near the Church of the Holy Apostles, where he had hoped to gather the
relics of Jesus’ disciples.92 Eusebius narration (VC 4.60) mentions “the
shrine of the Apostles” where Constantine was to be buried:93

91
Potter (2014) 450.
92
Ibid. 451.
93 Thomson argues for the complete rebuilding of the [initial] burial complex and

church that occurred several decades after Constantine’s death; so his body was
moved from the original burial site at the center of the memorials of the Twelve
Apostles to an adjacent location (which could explain Potter’s reference to
Constantine’s mausoleum), see Thompson (2014) 23-24.
 So he erected twelve repositories like sacred monuments in honor and
memory of the company of the Apostles, and put his own coffin in the
middle with those of the Apostles ranged six on either side.94

The meaning behind the text is more or less obvious. A more

sophisticated way of representing how Constantine perhaps considered his
act is vividly depicted in Karagatsis’ novel Sergius and Bacchus.
Constantine’s soul observes with an assembly of saints the construction of
his own sarcophagus in the Church of the Holy Apostles:95

BACCHUS: Handymen are working. They erect thirteen one-piece-made

sarcophagus of purple granite… Who will be buried there?
CONSTANTINE: In the twelve – six on the left, six on the right – no one.
They are the symbolic tombs of the twelve Apostles, whose sacred relics
are lost. In the thirteenth – at the center – my corps will be deposited. God
sent first Jesus on earth to bring the light of truth: and after him me, to
impose it. Jesus, being immortal, was taken to heaven. I, being mortal, was
going to abandon my body on earth. And the last dwelling place of my
flesh is where the body of Jesus would rest, if not resurrected from the
dead. (Silence). Why do I show and tell you all of these? To understand
what crucial work for Christianity I leave behind me. An unshakeable and
indestructible work for the eternity!

With this last self-presentational act Constantine summarized the

identity of a Divus Augustus, a saint, appointed by god as his personal
delegate, thus a sort of Vicarius Christi chosen for a specific earthly
mission of high interest: securing Christianity.96 Constantine seemed to be
chosen directly by god himself, without any intervention of a bishop. The
bishop of Rome soon realized that his traditional role as spiritual
administrator of the local church had to be elevated to a unique
intermediary between god and humans, thus a permanent Vicarius Christi.
In order to become the only delegate of god, one of the most famous
forgeries had to be constructed, the donatio Constantini.

94
The translation is that of the Oxford series, by Cameron & Hall (1999) 176.
95 Karagatsis (2008) 1.168-169; the translation of the Greek text quoted here is my
own.
96
Leithart suggests that Constantine’s burial showed an alter Christus, although he
has a rather Christian religious aspect on arguing Constantine, see Leithart (2010)
93-96.
 The ‘donatio Constantini’ and its decoding
In the mid-eighth century a document appeared which was
thought to have been written by Constantine himself, granting the bishop
of Rome Sylvester (314-335) a series of privileges including royal
administration over the western provinces of the Empire and the
administration of the clergy worldwide. Among other things, he acquired
from the Emperor a palace in Lateran, a purple mantle, a scarlet tunic, and
so on. The document was challenged in the early eleventh century, but its
forgery was finally proven in 1440 by Lorenzo Valla, a pioneer of modern
scientific criticism. Although the document does not refer to any historical
event, its value is most significant. It depicts the self-presentational
identity of the bishop of Rome, as retaining all the characteristics of a
typical ‘identity construction’ introduced by Callistus I:97

… sicut B[eatus] Petrus in terris vicarius Filii Dei … ita et Pontifices …

celsior et princeps cunctis sacerdotibus totius mundi … beato … summo
Pontifici et universalis urbis Romae Papae … beatissimus Papa …
beatissimo Pontifici nostro Silvestro universali Papae …

Thus far we might say that the self-presentational identity of the

bishop of Rome lies within a rather acceptable ecclesiological framework,
according to which the Roman church claims a primacy of honor over the
church worldwide. The text takes an anxious turn around its end,
providing an account of privileges that the Roman bishop obtains, which
however any wise Emperor would not even dare to abandon:

… ubi principatus sacerdotum et Christianae religionis caput ab imperatore

celesti constitutum est, iustum non est, ut illic inperator terrenus habeat
potestatem.

… for where the supremacy of priests and the head of the Christian
religion has been established by the heavenly Emperor, it is not right that
there an earthly emperor should have jurisdiction.98

At some point the donatio mentions that Constantine leaves

Rome for Constantinople, and he donates some imperial privileges to the
bishop of Rome, who is presented as the substitute of the Emperor’s rule
in his absence, something akin to the authority a Rex had. Sylvester had

97
The text follows the edition of the Corpus Iuris Canonici series, by Richter &
Friedberg (1959) 1.342-345.
98 Translation by Coleman (1993) 17.
already obtained an administrative role in Rome as the princeps
sacerdotum, but the donatio further developed his self-presentational
identity in accordance with the model Callistus had already introduced; the
bishop of Rome had to be considered a king and the only Vicar of Christ
on earth:

Summus Pontifex ~ Vicarius Filii Dei [i.e. Christi]

+
ubi principatus sacerdotum … iustum non est, ut illic imperator
terrenus habeat potestatem
↓
ibi Rex, et Princeps sacerdotum

However, any assertion, even indirect, such as that ‘only Peter’s

successor can be firmly connected to god as his vicar on earth’, is opposed
to a fundamental passage of the gospel (Mt. 28.19), according to which all
apostles (hence all their heirs) are Jesus’ vicars on earth: “Go therefore and
make disciples of all nations”. In a broad sense this passage indicates that
everyone can be a vicar of Jesus, given that he preaches god’s word; thus
for the church, the only potential Vicarius Christi is the church itself. The
bishop of Rome could continue to be presented as one of many vicars of
Christ, but not to promote himself as the only one: any claim that within
the church there can be only one instrumentum Domini bears political
consequences.
Within a Biblical framework, God fulfills his will through people
who become instrumentum Domini according to the given circumstances.
However, if god has several instrumenta for almost all circumstances, then
perhaps a momentous event, so shocking that it could determine the future
of humanity or ‘the future of Christian belief’ – if we recall Constantine’s
vision before the battle at the Milvian Bridge – is needed: a superbly gifted
instrumentum Domini, an impressive Vicarius Christi, one chosen for a
specific purpose.
The donatio seems to be a text that generates a reciprocal
substitution between Constantine and Sylvester, who become exactly the
opposite of the Eusebian or even the Lactantian version. Sylvester, instead
of Constantine, is displayed as the instrumentum Domini, and Constantine
becomes an instrumentum Sylvestri. The document appears to have been
written on Constantine’s fourth consulate (315) and on the consulate of
Gallicanus (317). Although the dates are debated, Constantine declares
that he wrote the donatio four days after his baptism (quarta die sui
baptismi), which was probably carried out by Sylvester, the bishop of
Rome. However, with Sylvester baptizing Constantine, it appears that in
the following years Constantine became victorious thanks to Sylvester, the
instrumentum Domini. Silvester could now bequeath to his successors all
the privileges bestowed by Constantine.
Donatio Constantini is therefore nothing more than the
appropriation of imperial privileges; a smart a posteriori self-presentation
of Sylvester and his successors, who acquired the right to substitute the
legal authority of the political leader over the church and the state. This
interpretation of the primatus was embedded in the West through a self-
presentational portrait that had started its depiction many centuries ago.

Conclusion
During the long period from Augustus to Constantine, the
identity-components that depicted the deity of the emperor and his role
within the administration of the cult were transformed under the influence
of Christianity. Syncretism led the earlier imperial cult (under which the
emperor was considered a demigod or deity) into the concept of a ‘living
saint’: the traditional ‘divinity’ of the Emperor gradually transformed into
the state of ‘sanctity’. Through clever manipulations and semiotic acts,
Constantine seems to have pushed the imperial identity transformation
even further, to that of the ‘Emperor as the Vicar of Christ on earth’.
Constantine’s semiotic acts might have also been one of the motives that
led the high clergy, i.e. the bishops, to gradually represent their own self-
presentational identity as administrators of the new cult. The example of
the bishop of Rome is quite enlightening, suggesting a pattern of episcopal
authority over the Emperor – thus over any political leader – as being
subjected to the church.