This rancorous context is crucial for assessing Constantine's actions. The question that faced him was not, how can I control the church, which lives peaceful and at ease in my kingdom? The question was, how can I get two North African churches that hate each other enough to kill to recognize each other as brothers? As noted above, he was not the only one with an agenda.
DONATIST TWISTS AND TURNS
Unfortunately, the bishops were not as interested in concord as Constantine was.27 By the time the bishops assembled in Rome in early October 313, Donatus-"charismatic, eloquent, tireless, and utterly convinced of the justice of his cause""-had taken over as the "shadow bishop" of Carthage. In the meantime, Miltiades had done what he could to ensure the outcome by stacking the court with anti-Donatist bishops.29 Unsurprisingly, they decided against Donatus, particularly condemning his practice of rebaptizing those who had been baptized by traditores or those consecrated by them. Perhaps aware of Miltiades' manipulation of the decision, Constantine felt compelled the following summer to call bishops to a second council at Arles. In summoning them, he offered imperial transport and issued an exhortation. He reviewed his efforts to settle the controversy at Rome and his hopes that the Donatist dispute could be put to rest. Information from sources in North Africa made it clear that the controversy was continuing because of the bad will and disgraceful conduct of some of the participants. "After I had read your letters," he wrote, "I recognized clearly that they would not place before their eyes either considerations of their own salvation, or (what is of more importance) the reverence which is due to Almighty God." This is clear from the fact that "they are persisting in a line of action which not merely leads to their shame and disgrace, but also gives an opportunity of detraction to those who are known to turn their minds away from the keeping of the most holy Catholic Law."30
His final exhortation reminded the bishops of the dangers that their divisions posed to Constantine and the empire:
Since I am well aware that you also are a worshipper of the most High God, ... I consider it by no means right that contentions and altercations of this kind should be hidden from me, by which, perchance, God may be moved not only against the human race, but also against me myself, to whose care, by His heavenly Decree, He has entrusted the direction of all human of fairs, and may in His wrath provide otherwise than heretofore. For then shall I be able to remain truly and most fully without anxiety, and may always hope for all most prosperous and excellent things from the ever-ready kindness of the most powerful God, when I shall know that all, bound together in brotherly concord, adore the most holy God with the worship of the Catholic religion, that is His due.31
Constantine's interest in a unified church is evident. He wanted a unified church, among other things, for the good of the empire. His stated concern, however, is to preserve God's kindness, not to manipulate the church. He planned to use the tools available to an emperor to restore "brotherly concord" so that the whole church can "adore the most holy God with the worship of the Catholic religion."
The council that met at Arles in August 314 was the first council called by a Roman emperor.32 It had a negligible impact on the Donatist controversy. The bishops reiterated the decision of Rome, condemning Donatus and reaffirming Caecilianus as bishop of Carthage, and passed a canon requiring bishops to provide evidence when leveling charges of traditio. Far more important for the future of the church and its relation to Constantine than the decision was the fact of the council itself. Despite the imperial summons, Constantine stood back to let the bishops do their work.33 He may have attended sessions, but he was informed of the bishops' decision after it had been made. Still, the very decision to convene a second assembly to deal with the question already answered at Rome was the first time an emperor had "effectively nullified" the decision of a coun- cil.34 Necessary as it may have been, it set a dangerous precedent, for after Arles any emperor might claim the right to summon councils to revisit earlier decisions with which he disagreed.
The Donatists did not rest satisfied with the decision of Arles for even a month. On August 19, Maximus of Carthage asked that the case be argued directly to Constantine, presenting evidence to the North African officials that Felix of Abthungi had indeed been a traditor. This was new information for Constantine, and he ordered his vicarii, first Aelius Paulinus and then Aelianus, to investigate. They found Felix innocent again, and Constantine summoned Caecilian and representatives of the Donatists to appear before him. They did so in Milan on October 315, where Constantine rendered what he thought was a final verdict: Caecilian was innocent, and he returned to Africa as bishop of Carthage, with support both from bishops and from the emperor.3s
Constantine had shifted and appeared to be indecisive. New evidence, or allegedly new evidence, or tricks, kept arising and forcing him to take up another appeal. Now that he had rendered a final decision-simply reiterating the decision of Rome two years before-he became frustrated. Riots were breaking out in the streets of Carthage, and when Roman soldiers joined some citizens in attacking a Donatist church in 317 and killed two bishops, a rumor spread that Caecilian had egged them on. A Donatist sermon described "bands of soldiers serving the furies of the traditores." For the Donatists, "bloodshed marked the end of this hatred. Now the soldiers endorsed the contract and the covenant of crime in no other way than by the seal of blood." Children and women were slaughtered in the basilica, while others shielded their eyes. Though anticipating a slaughter, the brave Donatists stood firm, and many "flew undaunted to the house of prayer with a desire to suffer."36 To make matters worse, Constantine had of course not overhauled the army overnight; the same soldiers who had seized books from traditores on Diocletian's orders were still on duty in North Africa.37
Constantine threatened to visit Africa to destroy and annihilate the Donatists, and in another letter he launched some choice invective in their direction. He claimed that the "mercy of Christ" had departed from them, "in whom it is as clear as the sun of noon-day, that they are of such a character, as to be seen to be shut off even from the care of Heaven, since so great a madness still holds them captive, and with unbelievable arrogance they persuade themselves of things which cannot lawfully be either spoken or heard." They were "departing from the right judgment that was given, from which, as through the provision of Heaven I have learnt they are appealing to my judgment-Oh, what force has the wickedness which even yet is persevering in their breasts!" In Constantine's opinion, "the judgment of Bishops ought to be looked upon as if the Lord Himself were sitting in Judgment." Perhaps thinking of 1 Corinthians 6's prohibition of Christians' taking fellow believers to court, he added, "For it is not lawful for them to think or to judge in any other way, excepting as they have been taught by the teaching of Christ. Why then, as I have said with truth, do wicked men seek the devil's services? They search after worldly things, deserting those which are heavenly. Oh, mad daring of their rage! 1131
At some point in the following two years, Constantine ordered Donatists' property to be confiscated and their churches closed. He imprisoned Donatist bishops, and some were tortured and put to death.39 The precedent was not lost on Augustine. Though he dismissed Constantine's policy as a "most disgraceful indulgence" (indulgentia ignominiossima), he gave an evangelical defense of the coercive suppression of heresy. For their own sake, they should be forced back into communion with the true church: "Compel them to come in." Constantine, who had ascended to the throne as liberator ecclesiae, had begun to persecute Christians-schismatic Christians, but Christians.40
In the end, Constantine admitted defeat. He recalled Donatist exiles41 and in a letter to the bishops and people of North Africa counseled patience. "You know right well," he reminded them, "that, as Faith required, so far as Prudence permitted, as much as a single-minded intention could prevail, I have endeavored by every effort of kindly government to secure that, in accordance with the prescriptions of our law, the Peace of the most holy Brotherhood, whose grace the supreme God has poure
d into the hearts of His servants, should, through complete concord, be preserved secure." His decrees and threats, however, "have not prevailed to subdue the obstinate violence of crime, which has been implanted in the breasts of certain men," and there is no hope except in "that source to which all good desires and deeds are referred." Peace cannot be forced, and "until the Heavenly medicine shows itself, our designs must be moderated so far as to act with patience, and whatever in their insolence they attempt or carry out, in accordance with their habitual wantonness-all this we must endure with the strength which comes from tranquility." Alluding to Jesus' Sermon on the Mount, he urged them not to return wrong for wrong and reminded the bishops that "it is the mark of a fool to snatch at that vengeance which we ought to leave to God." This was especially true for Christians, whose "faith ought to lead us to trust that whatever we may endure from the madness of men of this kind, will avail before God for the grace of martyrdom." Overcoming means enduring "with an unshaken heart the untamed savagery of men who harass the people of the Law of Peace." Through patient endurance, he hopes, "these men, who are making themselves the standard-bearers of this most miserable strife, may all come to recognize, as their laws or customs fall into decay, that they ought not, through the persuasion of a few, to give themselves over to perish in everlasting death, when they might, through the grace of repentance, be made whole again, having corrected their errors, for everlasting life.1142 Having done all he could to glue the fractured pieces of the African church back together, he found he had to leave it to God. He did not want to make martyrs, nor to be another Diocletian, sacrificing Christians for the good order of the empire.
CONCLUSION
It is an overstatement to say that Constantine treated the bishops as "imperial commissions" or "state functionaries," addressed them as if they were no more than "minor bureaucrats," and asserted his rights as an "arbiter of worship."43 Constantine tried to limit himself to facilitating the bishops' work by calling councils and providing venues and transport. Even his legal recognition of the conciliar decisions was unavoidable. After all, if he granted exemptions to Christian churches and clergy, he needed to know whom he was exempting.
With the Donatists, further, he faced an intractable challenge. Memories of the persecution were still sharp, and readily invoked. Donatists cried persecution when Constantine turned on them, as later Athanasius would consider himself a latter-day martyr. A Christian emperor could not pacify unruly Christian groups without being branded a persecutor or making martyrs, yet some of the Christian groups were deadly. Throughout the fourth century, Circumcellions in North Africa terrorized with their clubs, called "Israels," and "around 406 they began blinding Catholic clergy by forcing a mixture of powdered lime and vinegar ... into their eyes.'4 Somebody had to stop them, and the emperor happened to be that somebody. But then he risked being labeled another Diocletian. Given these dynamics, it is not so surprising that Augustine, after many peaceful overtures to the Donatists, finally determined that they should be compelled to reenter the church, nor that Constantine went beyond his initial minimalism by calling new councils and using coercion in his effort to heal a schism.
Constantine could have, and ultimately did, stand back and stand down, but the murderous factionalism of the church had tempted him to dangerous precedents. Filled with both passion for Catholic unity and ambition for the empire, he did not always have the resources to resist those temptations when they appeared. They would appear again.
I know that the plentitude of the Father's and the Son's pre-eminent and all pervading power is one substance.
CONSTANTINE, LETTER TOARIUS
The controversy between Arius and Alexander erupted in Alexandria around 318 and eventually engulfed the Eastern Church.' It was, however, preceded by the much less known but important Meletian controversy, a replay of the Donatist controversy now in the eastern part of Africa. During the Diocletian persecution, Bishop Peter of Alexandria fled from the city. In fact, he fled more than once. During one of his absences, Meletius found the city bereft of pastoral care and promptly ordained some men to fill the vacuum. Peter returned and wondered what had happened to his bishopric.
In part, the Meletian schism was another war concerning the proper response to persecution and whether to encourage or discourage the zeal of voluntary martyrs. Peter, like Mensurius in Carthage, urged moderation and was mild toward those who lapsed; Meletius was of a Donatist disposition. The division was so acute that, according to legend, Peter and Meletius were not even able to cooperate when they were, ironically, forced to share a prison cell. Peter hung a curtain down the middle of the cell and urged his supporters to remain on his side of the curtain.2 The Meletian schism reminds us that there were multiple layers of conflict in the Alexandrian church and that it is misleading to describe it all on an "Arian versus orthodox" model. Athanasius had at least as much trouble from Meletians as from Arians, though he had the rhetorical shrewdness and bravura to brand all his opponents as "Arians."
Peter, despite his prudent escapes, died a martyr in 311. Achillas briefly followed him, but he too died, and Alexander was installed in 313. Sometime around 318, he and a local priest, Arius, came into conflict over Christology. A charismatic preacher, Arius was tall, stooped and curvedas one ancient historian put it-like a snake, wore the garb of an ascetic and a philosopher, and oversaw a large number of devoted virgins within the Alexandrian church. Possibly a student of Lucian of Antioch (as Arius's ally Eusebius of Nicomedia was), he followed one strain of the Origenist tradition of theology that had been bubbling in the church of Alexandria for decades. In various writings, Origen had expressed a subordinationist Christology that considered Christ to be ontologically secondary and inferior to the Father. Arius pushed the point further, complaining in a letter to Eusebius of Nicomedia that he was being persecuted for teaching that the Logos exists "by will and counsel," that "before he was begotten, or created, or determined or established, he did not exist," and that he "derives from non-existence" (ex ouk onton estin).3 To be sure, the Logos is not a creature as other creatures are, but neither is he unbegotten, since there can be only one Unbegotten, the Father.'
A document preserved by Athanasius in his treatise On the Synods provides a fuller explanation of the Arian viewpoint:
For when giving to him [the Son] the inheritance of all things [Heb 1:2], the Father did not deprive himself of what he has without beginning in himself; for he is the source of all things. Thus there are three subsisting realities [hypostaseis]. And God, being the cause of all that happens, is absolutely alone without beginning; but the Son, begotten apart from time by the Father, and created [ktistheis] and founded before the ages, was not in existence before his generation, but was begotten apart from time before all things, and he alone came into existence [hypeste] from the Father. For he is neither eternal nor co-eternal nor co-unbegotten with the Father, nor does he have his being together with the Father, as some speak of relations, introducing two unbegotten beginnings. But God is before all things as monad and beginning of all. Therefore he is also before the Son, as we have learned also from your public preaching in the church.'
Alarmed not only at Arius's teaching but also at his popularity, Alexander summoned a synod of one hundred Egyptian bishops, who roundly condemned Arius. Banished from the city, he journeyed to Nicomedia, where he knew he would gain a sympathetic hearing from the powerful bishop Eusebius, intimate of Constantia, the wife of Licinius and sister of Constantine. Arius had chosen a good ally. Eusebius summoned a council in Bithynia, which reversed the decision of the Egyptian council by finding Arius orthodox.6 Another council was held at Caesarea, the other Eusebius presumably at the head, and this too found Arius innocent of heresy, though it recommended that he return to Alexandria to attempt a reconciliation with his bishop. Reconciliation did not happen, and instead Arius's presence in Alexandria only provoked further quarreling. Meanwhile, a council in 324 held in Antioch condemned and excommunicated Eusebius of Caes
area.7
Resolution of the controversy was made difficult by Licinius's prohibition of Christian assemblies in 322 (which may have been a response to the controversy), and so it was not until Constantine took over the East that the bishops felt they could resolve the question. When Constantine first learned of the dispute, his first instinct, as usual, was to urge concord. "Do ye both exhibit an equal degree of forbearance," he wrote to Arius and Alexander, "and receive the advice which your fellow-servant righteously gives." For himself, the emperor considered it "wrong in the first instance to propose such questions as these, or to reply to them when propounded," since "those points of discussion which are enjoined by the authority of no law, but rather suggested by the contentious spirit which is fostered by misused leisure, even though they may be intended merely as an intellectual exercise, ought certainly to be confined to the region of our own thoughts, and not hastily produced in the popular assemblies, nor unadvisedly entrusted to the general ear." It is a rare thinker who is able accurately to "comprehend, or adequately to explain subjects so sublime and abstruse in their nature," and even those competent few will find it difficult to convince others. "Who," he demanded, "in dealing with questions of such subtle nicety as these, can secure himself against a dangerous declension from the truth?" When faced with such mysteries, "it is incumbent therefore on us in these cases to be sparing of our words, lest, in case we ourselves are unable, through the feebleness of our natural faculties, to give a clear explanation of the subject before us, or, on the other hand, in case the slowness of our hearers' understandings disables them from arriving at an accurate apprehension of what we say, from one or other of these causes the people be reduced to the alternative either of blasphemy or schism." Both the one who asked "unguarded questions" and the one who offered an "inconsiderate answer" should seek "mutual forgiveness." After all, "the cause of your difference has not been any of the leading doctrines or precepts of the Divine law, nor has any new heresy respecting the worship of God arisen among you. You are in truth of one and the same judgment: you may therefore well join in communion and fellowship."' Voltaire did not care for Constantine, but he approved this letter, particularly Constantine's characterization of the Arian con troversy as a quarrel over "small and very insignificant questions."
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