Chapter 8 - Generational Change and Absorption of the New Christian Elites

FbF Book Club: The Final Pagan Generation (Watts, 2015)

Previous Entry - Chapters 6 and 7: Return to "Normalcy", the Christian Counterculture, Ascetics with Street Cred, Athanasius' Life of Antony, Elite Overproduction

---

This will be a shorter than average entry in this book club as much of the eighth chapter deals with power struggles and court intrigues that fall outside of our area of focus. This also allows us to engage in some broad discussion regarding two key themes that colour this chapter:

1. the absorption of Christian elites into the imperial system, and how divided loyalties (to Empire and to Christ) disrupt the old ways

2. the generational shift from the Last Pagan Generation to their children, who are more radical than they were, less attached to the old system, and much more Christian than they are

We left off in the last entry with the rise of a Christian counterculture that had won over some of the elites, particularly the youth. Many of these chose to take positions in the Church rather than follow their parents into the Roman bureaucracy. Others chose to entirely drop out of the system, becoming ascetics, eschewing worldly matters in favour of those pertaining to the soul.

This new culture was noticed by the elites, especially by those whose children chose to embrace it, but they did not view it as a challenge to the entrenched system of patronage that served to administer the empire. Their assumption was that the system, thanks to its self-perpetuation based on rewards and favours, would be a permanent feature. What they did not count on was Christianity posing a challenge to the empire in terms of primary loyalty. This shift from Emperor to Christ was a tectonic one, aided in large part by the Christian emperors earlier in the 4th century who legalized the Faith, institutionalized it, and funded it. By the time the Last Pagan Generation entered its dotage, it was already too late to reverse course as a parallel set of institutions had planted strong roots, and had begun to flourish. Their tolerance ensured the end of the system that they had benefited from, and that they were certain would continue for a long time after they were gone.

Theodosius I, ruling in the Eastern half of the Empire, was put into place to defeat the Goths who were marauding through the Balkans. He failed to do so and then struck a peace accord with them despite them killing his precdessor Valens. Theodosius, a Christian, failed at being a warrior emperor, so instead he decided to become a reformer in order to maintain his own legitimacy:

When Theodosius returned to Constantinople in defeat in late 380, he realized that he could no longer promise a punishing and absolute victory over the Goths. An emperor who seemed obviously to fail in the specific objectives he set for himself was vulnerable, and Theodosius now needed to find another way to justify his regime. He decided to present himself as a religious, administrative, and social reformer who promised a better empire than that left by Valens. He had, in a sense, pivoted from a public persona centered on military success to one founded on domestic reform.

Theodosius had no interest in perpetuating the tolerance/compromise of the Last Pagan Generation, and instead embarked on radical anti-pagan reforms:

A law issued in November 382 further clarified the situation. It concerned a temple that contained images that “must be measured by the value of their art rather than by their divinity.”89 These images, the emperor declared, were to be protected, and the temple that contained them was to remain open, “but in such a way that the performance of sacrifices forbidden therein may not be supposed to be permitted under the pretext of such access to the temple.”90 This was a radical change from the way that sacrifices and temples had been treated for most of the past two decades. In essence, these laws represented a final and full reversal of Julian’s religious program.

Not to be outdone, Gratian issued his own reforms out in the Western half:

Gratian sanctioned the removal of the Altar of Victory that had been placed in the Roman senate house by Augustus.92 He ended some of the beneficial financial privileges enjoyed by the cult of the Vestal Virgins. He eliminated imperial funding for public cult rituals. And he confiscated the property that belonged to the traditional Roman cults, endowments that had funded rituals and maintained temples for centuries.93 This final measure imperiled the very functioning of the traditional public cults of Rome. It is not clear whether Gratian appreciated the significance of these actions. He may simply have thought them symbolic measures that demonstrated his Christian piety, an important concern after Theodosius’s anti-pagan legislative program and church council in Constantinople had established his own Christian leadership credentials.

A race to see which Emperor was the “better Christian”.

Gratian’s reforms saw protests from the Senate traditionalists, but these protests were undone by the new breed of courtiers, young Christians who stood in the way of these traditionalists and upended centuries’ old practices regarding how Emperors could be communicated with by the elites:

They had also sent a clear message to those accustomed to working through the imperial system that legitimate appeals brought forward through official channels could be frustrated by the informal and confused way in which information filtered through to Gratian. Young and middle-aged Christian courtiers could now tip the scales of imperial justice against any appeals that conflicted with the views of influential dropouts like Ambrose.

The counterculture that we discussed in the last chapter was now returning to the imperial administration and influencing policy, while amassing its own power. This disruption of communication between the Senators and the Emperor by these Christian courtiers must have been a nuclear bomb in the eyes of the former. It was an unprecedented act and a severe blow to their actual power.

The years covered in this chapter are characterized by a series of weak emperors. Gratian gave way to Valentinian II, who was of a younger generation, less attached to the old, entrenched system, increasingly influenced by the dynamic and zealous Christians in his court, from which he gained favours and power.

When the Senate employed the brilliant orator Symmachus (pictured above) to convince Valentinian II to undo the ban he placed on nocturnal rituals, the following happened:

But Valentinian II was not his father, and 384 was not 364. Voices from outside the imperial administrative system mattered far more now—and they were quickly raised against the senate’s petition. The most memorable of these belonged to Ambrose, a man who understood both the limitations of the system and the sort of influence that existed beyond it.

more

Ambrose begins with a simple statement that the emperors serve God in the same way that all Romans serve the emperors. Because of this, the emperor cannot give money to support pagan rituals.126 Ambrose then proceeds to dismiss an argument about the unfairness of placing restrictions on pagan activity.127 Ambrose next shifts to the Altar of Victory itself. Replacing it would compel Christian senators to be “tainted with ashes from its altar” and would force them to endure a religious persecution launched by a Christian emperor.128 After making this point, Ambrose stops addressing Symmachus’s anticipated arguments and begins threatening consequences if Symmachus is allowed to prevail. Ambrose claims that the church will refuse to accept funds from an emperor who also pays for traditional religious activities, and suggests that Valentinian I would call down a rebuke from heaven if his son permitted a pagan altar in the senate.129 More powerful than these consequences (which range from the unlikely to the comical) was the transition that preceded them. After terming the restoration of the altar a new persecution, Ambrose “appeals to [Valentinian’s] faith as a minister of Christ” and asks that he refuse to commit sacrilege by signing on to such a decree.130 This is, Ambrose continues, “a matter of religion” not a “civil matter,” and, as bishop, he deserves both to be consulted and to be furnished with a copy of the Relatio so that he can formulate a fuller response.

Please note the bolded sections. Here we see the growing influence of the Christian counterculture, now entering imperial administration. We also see a muscular Christianity delivering threats to the Emperor of Rome, when prior to this Christians pleaded for mercy.

This line from Watts is key:

For the first time since the reign of Diocletian, elites operating outside of the social and economic controls established by the Roman imperial system claimed the right to set its policies.

The tolerant Last Pagan Generation tolerated the intolerant, and the intolerant used that tolerance to amass power in order to not tolerate that which they did not like nor want.