Part 4: A Hybrid is Born. Chapter 21: What Happened to the Kingdom Gospel? So far, we've seen what Jesus and his apostles taught, and we've seen how the church for nearly 300 years followed Jesus' teaching quite literally. Yet these teachings aren't practiced by most Christians today, so what happened? During the last 40 years of the 3rd century (from approximately AD 260 to 300), the church enjoyed an unprecedented time of peace. There was sporadic local persecution, but no empire-wide persecution.
This seemed like a blessing to the wearied, beleaguered church, which had survived wave after wave of vicious persecution from the time it had been planted. However, the church was beginning to lose its first love. As a result, it forgot that Jesus said it's a blessing when we're persecuted. The church let its guard down. With persecution off their minds, Christians began to bicker with one another. Theology, beyond the basics, had always been a secondary thing to the church, but now it came to the forefront.
Theological battles raged across the empire. Christians also forgot Jesus' words about ecclesiastical power. You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and those who are great exercise authority over them. Yet it shall not be so among you: but whoever desires to become great among you, let him be your servant; and whoever desires to be first among you, let him be your slave.
Instead of desiring to be servants of all, the bishops of the major cities of the empire—Rome, Antioch, and Alexandria—began jockeying among themselves for power. The bishop of Rome began claiming that he was the successor of Peter and that he had jurisdiction over all the other churches. Christians also began to lose their separation from the world. Discipline became lax, particularly in Rome. For the first time, Christians began assuming governmental positions.
Nevertheless, the church of AD 300 was still far more disciplined and more separated from the world than the vast majority of churches today. But it had backslidden considerably from what it once had been. Then, suddenly, the peace of 40 years ended, catching most Christians off guard. In the year 303, Emperor Diocletian initiated the most sweeping persecution the church had ever experienced. Christian prayer houses everywhere were burned down, and the scriptures were assigned to bonfires.
Soldiers dragged men and women into prison and tortured them with every kind of hideous torment of which twisted minds could think. Although many Christians compromised during this persecution, the church as a whole stood firm. Although they had lost some of their kingdom zeal, Christians were still quite ready to die for their king. The persecution continued blazing against the Christians for eight long years, but the government could not destroy the church. In the end, the kingdom of God prevailed.
It had not been an easy battle, but Christians had shown Satan that he could not defeat the kingdom through brute force. Exhausted, Emperor Diocletian issued the Edict of Toleration in 311, which ended the persecution. In admitting defeat, the emperor asked the Christians for their prayers. He then retired from office and later committed suicide. Satan had been defeated. Or had he? What the church didn't realize is that Satan had one more weapon in his arsenal: guile.
If he and the world couldn't defeat the kingdom, they would join it. Or rather, they would cunningly entice the Christians to join them. In 312, Christians received some more good news. Constantine, one of the co-regents who replaced Diocletian, had defeated his rival, Maxentius, at Rome. This was good news because Constantine was favorably disposed toward Christians.
In fact, during the Diocletian persecution, Christians who lived in the regions under Constantine's control had been protected from most of the persecution. The year 313 brought even more good news. Constantine and his co-ruler, Licinius, issued a new edict that put Christianity on an equal level with all other religions.
This edict, known as the Edict of Milan, said: "We resolve to grant both to the Christians and to all men freedom to follow the religion which they choose, so that whatever heavenly divinity exists may be favorably inclined to us and to all who live under our government." Other decrees of Constantine and Licinius went further. Any property confiscated from Christians during the Diocletian persecution was to be returned to them.
Furthermore, all of the prayer houses that had been burned down or otherwise destroyed during the persecution would be rebuilt at public expense. The Edict of Milan did not make Christianity the state church. It merely instituted freedom of religion in the Roman Empire. However, soon afterward, Constantine adopted a decidedly pro-Christian policy for the portion of the Roman Empire that he governed. Licinius, his co-ruler, still governed much of the Eastern Empire.
The 4th-century church historian Eusebius, who was completely taken in by all of this, describes Constantine's actions: "The pious emperor, glorying in the confession of the victorious cross, proclaimed the Son of God to the Romans with great boldness of testimony. All indeed, with one voice and one mouth, declared that Constantine had appeared by the grace of God as a general blessing to mankind." The emperor also personally sought the company of God's ministers.
He distinguished them with the highest possible respect and honor. He showed them favor in both word and deed as persons consecrated to the service of his God. Accordingly, they were admitted to his table. He also made them his travel companions, believing that God would thus help him, since they were his servants. So, in a matter of a few years, Christians went from being a persecuted minority to being the court favorites. Unfortunately, this governmental favor did not come unfettered.
When a government decides to help Christianity in some way, that help usually comes with some degree of government involvement in the church. For example, I've mentioned that Constantine had decreed that the prayer houses destroyed in the persecution were to be rebuilt at public expense. Since the state was furnishing the funds, Constantine naturally felt that the state was entitled to some say as to how the new prayer houses should look. Constantine genuinely desired to promote Christianity throughout the empire.
Yet, he was an unregenerated man of the world. So, naturally, the only way he knew to promote Christianity was through human means. He felt quite certain that the previous prayer houses of the Christians would be insufficient to accommodate the large numbers of people who would be coming to the church now that he, the emperor, was promoting Christianity. So, he issued a statute that required places of Christian worship throughout the empire to be substantially enlarged.
Not only that, he put the construction of these new church buildings under the oversight of the Roman provincial governors. In fact, Constantine decided that the buildings should not merely be larger, but that they should also be more magnificent. Why should the Christian places of worship be mere houses or simple buildings when pagan temples were so ornate? Shouldn't it be the other way around? Shouldn't the true religion have the most impressive buildings?
Following this human reasoning, Constantine directed the new church buildings to be adorned with impressive colonnades and vaulted ceilings. He arrayed many of them with beautiful fountains and elegant marble floors. Constantine wanted it to be difficult for an unbeliever to walk past the church building without being tempted to peer inside to see more of its beauty. Constantine racked his brain to think of other ways he could bless the church.
For he sincerely believed that if he blessed the church, God would bless the empire. Before long, Constantine noticed that most of the Christian bishops and elders lived in poverty. He didn't think this was at all suitable for the representatives of the one true God. So, he began paying salaries to the bishops and elders out of state funds. He even gave one of his residences, the Lateran Palace, to the bishop of Rome and his successors.
Constantine also exempted all the bishops, elders, and deacons from taxation, and he exempted all church buildings from property taxes. Since Roman taxes were quite high, and they got even higher during Constantine's reign, these tax exemptions were considerable benefits. And the best part of it was that no strings were attached to these salaries and tax exemptions. Or so it seems.
In North Africa, there had been a rift in the church over the question of church leaders who had compromised during the Diocletian persecution. Those Christians who refused to have anything to do with the leaders who had compromised were eventually known as Donatists. The others were known as Catholics. As a result of this rift, there were two bishops, two sets of elders, and two bodies of believers in Carthage, North Africa: the Donatist and the Catholic. Each claimed to be the legitimate church in that city.
In the past, this controversy would have been purely an internal church matter. But Constantine's blessings to the church created a whole new issue. Which bishop would receive the handsome salary offered by the state? Which bishop and which group of presbyters would receive tax exemption? Which bishop would have charge of the magnificent new church building that had been rebuilt at state expense? Constantine's government initially recognized Caecilian, the Catholic bishop, as the rightful bishop of Carthage.
So, Caecilian was provided with a state salary, and he and all of his clergy were exempted from taxes. Outraged by this, the Donatists filed a complaint with the Roman proconsul of Africa, saying that they were the lawful church of Carthage. The proconsul forwarded the complaint to Constantine. Not knowing what to think, Constantine appointed the bishop of Rome to hear the case. Not surprisingly, the lax bishop of Rome sided with the Catholic bishop, Caecilian, who was his friend.
Feeling that this was not a fair trial, the Donatists asked Constantine to appoint someone more impartial to hear their case. So, Constantine called for a council of bishops in the province of Gaul (modern-day France) to hear the case. The council met at Arles in 314, and they once again sided with the Catholics. So, the Donatists appealed one last time to Constantine. This time, he personally heard the case, and he also ruled in favor of the Catholics.
The Donatist controversy set the precedent for the Roman emperor to convene church councils and even to personally adjudicate church matters. The wall between church and state had largely crumbled. Christians were now willing to mix the affairs of God's kingdom with the affairs of this world. Constantine appointed Christians to high government posts because he believed that God would bless his rulership if his government was staffed with Christians.
Ironically, just a few years before, Lactantius had said: "God might have bestowed upon his people (that is, the Christians) both riches and kingdoms, as he had given previously to the Jews, whose successors and posterity we are. However, he would have Christians live under the power and government of others, lest they should become corrupted by the happiness of prosperity, slide into luxury, and eventually despise the commandments of God.
For this is what our ancestors did." As Lactantius had unwittingly predicted, once Christians came into power, they did become corrupted, they slid into luxury, and they eventually despised the commandments of God. By now, Constantine viewed himself as the bishop of those outside the church. In other words, the church bishops were responsible to shepherd those in the church, and Constantine was responsible to be the spiritual shepherd of those outside the church.
As the secular bishop, Constantine issued a decree that prohibited government officials from offering sacrifices to idols or practicing divination. But before long, Constantine even began to see himself as the governor or universal bishop of those inside the church.