Chapter 24

 

Hebdomon Palace and The Great Church, Constantinople, December 427

 

“WHAT ARE THE TALLIES, SIMON?” Pulcheria quizzed her chamberlain. “Have we enough to build the Mary Theotokos Church in the Blachernai district?”

“Nearly, Your Serenity.” He tapped an ink-stained finger against his nose as he studied the accounts. “The bakeries, workshops, and rents are fine. Fees from the docks seem light. I’ll look into it.”

Pulcheria’s life had settled into a routine over the two years since Theo banished her from the council. She and her women still kept fast days and church hours for prayers, but she threw her considerable wealth and energies into church building and supporting the holy men and women who worked among the poor. To Theo’s credit, the empire seemed peaceful and prosperous. Maybe she had been guilty of the sin of pride, thinking only she could keep the empire safe.

Arcadia stopped by the door. “Nearly ready, Sister? Bishop Sisinnius delays his sermon for no one, not even you!”

“Coming.” Pulcheria dismissed Simon and gathered her things. She and the Good Bishop planned a surprise for this celebration of Mary’s Feast.

She, her sisters, and their attendants traveled to the Great Church, accompanied by her guards. As usual, people lined the street to watch their curtained wagons pass and cry blessings on them. The people knew the virgin princesses spent their vast fortunes and time making others’ lives better.

At the Great Church, they took their seats in the women’s section, behind an elaborately carved screen, separate from the male congregants. Segregation of the sexes irritated Pulcheria, but she couldn’t change the world in a heartbeat and so accepted this temporary exile. After the service, she and her women would mingle freely with the bishop and his priests. Theo frequently joined them for communion and Sunday meal with the bishop. He was always cordial, but, despite her efforts, she had not been able to mend the breach between them. The wound to his pride had gone deep.

The familiar service began with chanting and prayers. Pulcheria stood and knelt on cue, breathing incense, letting the rhythms of the routine soothe her nerves and infuse her with peace. Little sunlight filtered through the high narrow windows, so the interior shone with the soft light of candles and oil lamps. When Bishop Sisinnius approached the pulpit, Pulcheria’s heart beat faster. When her dear friend Bishop Atticus died two years ago, Sisinnius—an ancient, gentle man—took the bishopric as a compromise candidate. She had backed Proclus, Atticus’ secretary and a good friend, but lost. Still, Sisinnius was a holy man, engaging and worthy of his See.

He raised his arms, dropped his head, and offered up a prayer asking for God’s blessing on the imperial family, referring to Pulcheria and her sisters as “Brides of Christ.” Then he settled into his sermon.

“Today we celebrate the feast of Mary Theotokos—Mary, Mother of God. She who, through faith and goodness, cooperated in the redemption of the universe. From the beginning of time, the sins of Eve dogged our sisters. Women were cursed to bring forth children in pain and tears. God did not intend this punishment to last forever. Mary is the New Eve. As sin entered the world through the disobedience of Eve, so the Divine Word took flesh through the faith of Mary. As Eve set creation at odds with its Lord, so Mary opened herself to the Divine. As Eve brought women under a curse, so the New Eve embodied the glory and rank of her sex.

“Through Mary, all women are blessed. The female can no longer be held accursed, because the rank of this sex surpasses even the angels in glory. Now Eve is healed. Behold the catalogue of admirable women: All praise Sarah, the fertile field of the people. Rebekah is honored, a capable provider of benedictions. Leah, too, admired as mother of the ancestor in the flesh. Deborah wins praise because she led in battle despite her sex. Elizabeth is also called happy for she carried the precursor in her body, and he leapt in delight at the approach of grace.

“I would enroll another name among those great women; a name familiar to you all; a woman of great wisdom, piety and generosity: Aelia Pulcheria Augusta, our Most Pious Empress.”

The bishop stepped behind the altar to remove a cloth, revealing a portrait of Pulcheria in the aspect of the Virgin Mary. The congregants shouted acclamations. Pulcheria rose to exit the women’s section, proceeding toward the altar with head bowed, holding a bundle before her. She knelt at the bishop’s feet and held out her gift, a length of purple silk, encrusted with gold thread, seed pearls, and flashing gems. “Father, I humbly offer this silk robe, which has lain next to my body, as an altar cloth.”

“In the Good Lord’s name, I accept this gift. Rise, Daughter.” He put a hand under her elbow to help her stand. Together they faced the cheering crowd. “Well done, Augusta,” he said in an aside for her ears only. “You are much beloved by the people.”

“They are my children.” Pulcheria said with pride.

 

*****

 

Imperial Palace, February 428

 

“How goes the search for our new bishop?” Pulcheria asked her brother in one of her rare visits to the palace. It spoke volumes that Theo chose to greet her in his work room and not a more intimate family setting. A month earlier, the gentle Bishop Sisinnius died quietly in his sleep. Pulcheria mourned his passing with prayers and additional gifts to the poor.

“Have you heard of Nestorius of Antioch?” Theo asked. Pulcheria had fretted as her brother floundered in choosing a replacement patriarch. First, he approached Dalmatius, a most holy ascetic who had not left his monk’s cell for over forty years. He—rightfully—refused. Next, Theo approached another holy man in the suburbs of Constantinople. He refused, as well. People were getting restive at the delay. Finally, Theo called on her to help with the matter. It was Church rather than government business but gave Pulcheria an opportunity to show she could still be of assistance to her brother.

“Vaguely.” Pulcheria frowned. “He’s an ascetic from the Euprepius monastery, is he not? Syrian? Why not choose Proclus, well-known and well-loved by our people?”

“I want an outsider, to avoid the Church politics that marred my last appointment. There are factions in the Constantinople See. Putting one above the other will excite jealousies. Bishop Sisinnius was a good and holy man, but he was a compromise—one that only postponed the decision because of his advanced age.” Theo paused. “Nestorius is very well regarded.”

By your advisors, I assume, Pulcheria thought. “Your wife’s father came from Antioch. Did she suggest this Nestorius?”

“Athenais has no thoughts on this appointment.” Theo rolled his eyes. “Please, Sister, I refuse to discuss my wife with you. It brings discord between us. The reason I invited you today is to discuss Nestorius and his godliness.”

“I’m sorry, Brother.” Pulcheria put a hand on his arm and a curb on her tongue. God give me strength. What is the matter with me that I cannot keep my own counsel when it comes to that woman? “I was wrong to suspect any such influence.”

Theo gave a stiff nod of acceptance.

She continued. “There is another factor you should consider when making your decision. You might avoid local discord by asking an Antiochene to take the See, only to inflame more distant animosities. The Alexandrines of Egypt and the Antiochenes of Syria have feuded for centuries over dogma and the primacy of their Sees. Bishop Cyril of Alexandria is a learned man, but ambitious and jealous of his prerogatives. I had dealings with him early in my regency. He might take this appointment as a slight.”

“This appointment has no affect on the Alexandria See. Why should he object? If he does, let the Bishop of Rome settle those differences.”

“As God’s Viceroy on earth—”

Theo stopped her with a raised hand. “I know your opinions on this, Ria. Help me select a bishop for our city or leave.”

Why did her brother not understand that the Church was a human institution, prone to human frailties and egos? The Church needed a strong leader and arbiter, just as the empire did. When the Church could not settle its disputes, the emperor needed to step in and impose his will. Pulcheria tamped down her irritation. “What else is in Nestorius’ favor?”

“He is comely and has a wonderful voice.”

“Another Chrysostom?” Pulcheria asked. “The people still talk of the ‘Golden Mouth’ after twenty years.”

“He has a classical education, with the usual literary and rhetorical training, and puts them to use in his preaching. We would not have heard of him otherwise.”

“An ascetic for the monks, rhetorical style for the people, and a classical background for the Hellenes. His origins and personal appearance could recall the popular Chrysostom.” Pulcheria ticked off the candidate’s advantages on her fingers. “It sounds like you have your bishop.”

“You have no objections?” Theo looked pleased.

“None. I’m sure the new bishop and I will build a cordial relationship.”

“Good. I’ll send General Dionysius to escort him to the capital.”

“The magister militum? A good signal to the people, that the emperor makes this choice.” At least he got that right!

“Excellent! Will you join us for evening meal?”

“I would be honored.” She took his arm as they walked down the hall. “Now, what is this I hear about the Goths rebelling in the West? I thought Placidia had them under control…”

 

*****

 

The Great Church, April 428

 

PULCHERIA DRESSED IN FULL IMPERIAL REGALIA for the Easter Service. Bishop Nestorius had been confirmed only five days before. She looked forward to his sermon on this most holy of days as she took her seat with her sisters and women.

“Ria!” Arcadia hissed. “Look above the altar.”

A cloth obscured her portrait.

“I’m sure the attendants forgot to remove it before the service.”

“Your altar cloth is missing, as well.” Marina pointed out.

“What?” Pulcheria squinted. Her gift was indeed missing from the altar. “Hmm. I’m sure this is an oversight. I’ll have a word with the bishop after the services.”

Nestorius approached the altar. The congregants quieted. After preliminary chants and prayers, Nestorius took the pulpit to preach a rousing sermon on the resurrection. Pulcheria was quite satisfied with his style and substance.

He finished with the traditional prayers for the imperial family but failed to call Pulcheria and her sisters Brides of Christ in listing their honors. She prickled at the absence. There was a small wave of murmurs as others noted the omission. Another point to bring up with the Good Bishop. He was new and did not know the ways of her city.

After the service, Pulcheria and her retinue approached the grille separating the nave from the sanctuary, to find the gate shut against them.

She spotted a young man hurrying past. “You, priest. What is your name?”

“Most Honored Augusta.” He bowed deeply. “I’m the archdeacon Peter.”

“Peter, go tell the Good Bishop Nestorius, that Aelia Pulcheria Augusta waits at the sanctuary door for entrance to take communion with her brother the Emperor, His Worship the Bishop, and the holy priests of the Great Church, as has been her wont.”

“Of course, Your Serenity.”

Peter hurried off. Pulcheria fumed at the delay. Her women exchanged uneasy glances and quiet comments.

Bishop Nestorius came to the grille, followed by several burly monks.

Pulcheria gave a stiff nod. “Sir, the gate is barred against me.”

“Only priests may walk in the sanctuary.”

“I and my sisters are consecrated to God. Your predecessors were pleased to have our presence.”

“I know some believe virgins through their sacrifice ‘give birth to God’, but this is an error. Women give birth to Satan! Women are the daughters of Eve, through whom sin came into this world. They cannot step foot in the most holy of holies in the Church. Augusta, be gone, or I will have my monks remove you and your women.”

Stunned and humiliated, Pulcheria turned on her heel and left, her women trailing behind. Theo will hear of this disrespect! she fumed.

Over the next several months, the situation worsened.

 

*****

 

Imperial Palace, June 428

 

“BROTHER, YOU MUST REIN IN YOUR BISHOP!” Pulcheria paced back and forth in Theo’s private audience chamber. “He is riling the populace with his suppression of their entertainments.”

“You’ve frequently bemoaned the people’s love of the circus, mimes, and dancers, wishing they spent more time in church. Nestorius is doing what you could not.”

“Because I could not and keep their love! Not all are suited to our life of prayer and duty. The common people need entertainments or they become dangerous. God put you on the throne, but the people keep you there. Don’t antagonize them by taking away their theater and games!”

“The populace will soon settle into amity with their bishop. He is persuasive.” Theo’s jaw firmed. “That was one of his gifts you most admired, if I remember right.”

Pulcheria backed off that tack, fearing he might become even more stubborn. “And the monks? Nestorius tells them to forgo their good work among the people. He orders them back to the monasteries to live a life of prayer and excommunicates any who fail to follow through. He had the holy man Basel beaten and exiled for protesting these actions. The people rescued him and took him to the safety of a suburban church. You cannot condone such behavior by the bishop!”

“The monks frequently lead the people in protest against my officials. The city will be more peaceful with them back in their cells.”

That sounds like the arguments of corrupt Hellenes who don’t want to give up their lucrative honors when the monks call them out! Pulcheria struggled to keep her tone reasonable. “The monks protest corrupt officials. If your appointees do their jobs, the people will praise them. With the monks behind walls, who will minister to the sick and poor?”

“Maybe their relatives, now that they no longer are absent at the games?”

Pulcheria stopped pacing, fists clenched, anger stopping her mouth.

“I jest, Sister.”

She let out a breath. “Good. I thought for a moment you had lost your wits.”

“Are you sure your displeasure is with his closing theaters and sending the monks back to their cells?” Theo asked. “Your outrage has nothing to do with his banning women from evening prayers or watches for the dead?”

“It is all of one piece. Nestorius alienates the people, the monks, and the women of Constantinople. He says women are so weak that being out at night leads to promiscuity! He even denies I am a virgin!” Her teeth ground in frustration.

“Now we get to the heart of the matter. I heard his comment that you and Paulinus are lovers. He truly is unaware of your likes and dislikes.” Theo laughed.

Pulcheria took a deep breath to calm herself. “This slander against an Augusta blackens your reputation as well. I am your sister. What I do, for good or ill, reflects on you, Brother.”

Her icy tones removed the smile from his face. “I have taken steps to restore your reputation. I assured Nestorius you have never shown the weakness typical of young women and conducted adulterous affairs. He will apologize to you.”

“I will forgive him as the Good Lord requires. That won’t be enough to prevent the turmoil that is coming.” She ceased her pacing and stood, shaking with rage. Why can’t I get through to him? “Nestorius preaches heresy in denying Mary is the Mother of God—long-settled doctrine.”

“Dearest Sister.” Theo took her arm. “Ever my champion and advisor. But on this you are wrong. Nestorius is a godly man and I approve his positions. Just yesterday, he said, ‘Give me the world free of heretics and I’ll give you heaven on earth.’ I’ll publish a list of heresies and penalties shortly. Constantinople will be a pure place.”

“And who are these heretics?”

“The Novatians, Manicheans, Arians, and other Christians that deviate from orthodoxy.”

“Oh, God.” Pulcheria put a hand to her mouth. “You take away the people’s entertainments and direct them to persecute their Christian neighbors? The city will riot and despair.”

Theo dropped her arm, frowning. “I thought you, of all people, would be pleased. You taught me to love God. We turn the people toward the orthodox religion. We rid them of the erroneous beliefs that threaten their immortal souls.”

Pulcheria shivered at the implications for Theo’s reign. “This goes beyond religion and belief. This threatens your rule. Most of your generals are Arian. What if they abandon you?” She dropped to her knees. “I’m begging you, Brother. Give up your support for Nestorius. He will bring you to ruin.”

“I’m sure Nestorius will not be so foolish.” Theo raised Pulcheria from her knees and kissed her on the forehead. “Go in peace, with my blessings.”

Dismissed, Pulcheria left, mourning. This is what I wrought! Without me by his side, Theo alienates his people and strays from the true path into heresy. I must save my brother from this disastrous bishop, not only for his reign, but for his soul’s sake. But how?