The disadvantages for Christians in the Roman Empire were numerous. Quite apart from persecution and martyrdom,1 Christians faced social, economic, and political antipathy. It was especially dangerous for slaves who were Christians. As slaves, Christians could not legally resist their masters’ sexual advances or refuse to participate in pagan religious practices. Even Roman citizens were not immune from prosecution and punishment.
So it is natural to wonder: With so many disadvantages, why did Romans find the Christian faith appealing? Four reasons come to mind:
A Loving God
Previously, we reviewed pagan conceptions of the gods, noting especially how the gods were feared. They were viewed not only as potentially dangerous, jealous, and vindictive, but largely indifferent to humanity. The Greco-Roman gods felt no obligation toward humans. Of course, the gods could be placated, even cajoled, but almost always when they showed concern for humans or provided benefits; love for humanity had little or nothing to do with it.
The God of Israel stood out in sharp contrast to the gods of the Greeks and Romans. Throughout Israel’s sacred Scriptures, we read of God’s love for his people. Moses tells the people: “The LORD set his heart in love upon your fathers.”2 Countless times Israel’s Scriptures speak of God’s “steadfast love” or “loving-kindness,” words that translate hesed. The God of Israel is a God of grace, mercy, faithfulness, and forgiveness.
Christian Scriptures share this view of God. “God is love,” declares one letter writer.3 We hear of the love of God in what is probably the most quoted verse of the Bible: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.”4 In his letter to the Christians of Rome, the apostle Paul declares: “God shows his love for us in that while we were yet sinners Christ died for us.”5 In another letter, the apostle says the love of God in Christ “surpasses knowledge.”6 In short, the quality of the love of God is incomprehensible. Importantly, God’s love forms the very basis for God’s redemptive work. God loves humanity, says the Christian church, and seeks to save humanity. Humanity is invited to turn to God and to be enveloped by his love.
There is nothing comparable to these beliefs in pagan religions. The Christian proclamation of the love of God, which in Christ is now freely available to all people, attracted people of all walks of life, even hard-nosed Roman pagans.
A Loving People
Christian teaching about love did not stop with how much God loves us. Early Christians believed it was necessary to love all people. They also believed that this love for people was ultimately sourced in God himself, as Paul put it in his letter to the Christians in Rome: “God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit which has been given to us.”7
The requirement to love all is rooted in the teaching of Jesus. He not only endorsed the well-known command to love one’s neighbor as one’s self,8 Jesus famously commanded his disciples, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”9 Loving enemies and praying for persecutors were the kinds of things the Greco-Roman world did not practice and, for that matter, did not understand.
A Powerful Benefactor
In late antiquity, kings and emperors loved to speak of themselves as benefactors. This word comes from the Latin, meaning “doer of good.” (The Greeks had an equivalent word.) To be called benefactor of a city or of a people was a great honor. For rulers, it had great political significance too. Typically, we find the language of benefaction in dedicatory inscriptions, in which the benefactions of the honorees are recounted, followed by a decree of some sort.10
Perhaps the most important inscription ever found is on the Rosetta Stone. The bilingual (Egyptian-Greek) text enabled scholars for the first time to decipher Egyptian hieroglyphics.11 The Rosetta Stone is today housed in the British Museum. It was discovered in 1799, during Napoleon’s invasion and exploration of Egypt. Along with a number of looted antiquities, it fell into British hands two years later and became the center of scholarly and popular attention. The inscription, which dates to 196 BC, recounts the many accomplishments and benefactions of King Ptolemy V, who reigned from 204 to 181 BC.12 Part of the inscription reads: “King Ptolemy, the ever-living . . . has been a benefactor both to the temples and to those who dwell in them, as well as all those who are his subjects, being (himself) a god sprung from a god and a goddess.”13 Such language strikes us today as outrageous, perhaps even comical. But in antiquity, it was taken very seriously—for kings, pharaohs, and emperors were viewed as high priests and mediators between heaven and humanity. The divinity of the emperor in some sense guaranteed the blessings of the gods for his subjects, or at least it was hoped.
The Romans were influenced by the older Greek and Egyptian cultures. Not surprisingly, Roman emperors adopted some of the titles, including benefactor, in public inscriptions celebrating their achievements and their great piety toward the gods. Rome’s first emperor was Octavian (63 BC–AD 14), who after gaining complete control over the empire became Caesar Augustus (reigned absolutely 28 BC–AD 14).
In celebration of Caesar’s birthday, several inscriptions were set up in key locations in the empire. The Greek inscription begins:
Providence, which orders all our lives, has in her display of concern and generosity on our behalf adorned our lives with the highest good, (by giving us) Augustus, whom she has filled with virtue for the benefaction of humanity and has granted us and those who will come after us a Savior who has made war to cease and who shall put everything in peaceful order.14
At the end of his life, Augustus wrote and had put on display a lengthy list of his achievements and benefactions as emperor. The inscription is in Latin and Greek, and begins with the words (in the Greek version): “Translated and inscribed below are the achievements and gifts of the god Augustus.”15 In the birthday inscription, it is asserted that the achievements and benefits of Augustus are so numerous they cannot be counted and so great his successors have no hope of ever equaling them.
Another interesting example involved Nero, who participated in the Corinthian games in Greece in AD 67. Nero must have been the greatest athlete of all time, for he won first prize in every event in which he competed. We are told that he took home 1,800 trophies! Not to miss the opportunity for grand speechmaking, the emperor addressed the crowd: “It is goodwill, not pity, that prompts me to be your benefactor. . . . Your gods . . . have granted me the opportunity to practice benefactions on an unparalleled scale.” A Greek high priest responds: “Nero—Lord of all the Cosmos, Supreme Emperor . . . Father of his country, a New Sun that brightens Greece, chosen to be benefactor of Greece.”16 The priest goes on to speak of Nero as “Zeus Savior” and “Zeus Liberator.” In Ptolemais, Egypt, a papyrus was found that describes Nero as “Emperor, Savior, and Benefactor of the inhabited world.”17 It is remarkable to think that less than one year after this love-in, the Roman Senate would condemn Nero the great Benefactor as an enemy of the state.
It is in reference to these ideas and expressions of benefactor and benefaction that Jesus exhorts his disciples: “The kings of the Gentiles exercise lordship over them; and those in authority over them are called benefactors. But not so with you; rather let the greatest among you become as the youngest, and the leader as one who serves. For which is the greater, one who sits at table, or one who serves? Is it not the one who sits at table? But I am among you as one who serves.”18
Romans no doubt laughed at this teaching. For many, it reflected weakness. To serve someone was shameful and degrading. Service was no path to greatness. I am confident that Plato, the famous Greek philosopher of the fourth century BC, spoke for many when he asked, “How can one be happy when he has to serve someone?”19 The implication is clearly “One cannot be happy serving someone.” Jesus taught otherwise.
Jesus tells his disciples that he has not come to lord over others. Referring to himself as the Son of Man, Jesus explains, “For the Son of Man also came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”20 This statement is remarkable on many levels. For one, Jesus is alluding to a passage in the book of Daniel that describes the mysterious being as “one like a son of man” who approaches the throne of God and receives power and authority so that all nations and peoples might serve him.21 There is little doubt that Jesus saw himself as this figure. But what is surprising is that Jesus asserts that before he is honored and served, he must first serve others. And not only serve others, he must give his life as a ransom, or payment, for the sin of others.
This leads to a second important observation about his statement. In speaking of ransom, Jesus has alluded to the famous prophecy of the Suffering Servant in the book of Isaiah.22 He has combined the two great prophecies. All nations will serve the Son of Man, but only after he has first served humanity and, as the Suffering Servant, has suffered on humanity’s behalf.
The benefaction that Jesus offered his world was nothing like what the emperors claimed to have provided. One of the things Jesus offered humanity was life—eternal life. No imperial benefaction came close to this.
A Living Hope
In a previous chapter, I discussed health and longevity in the ancient world, or perhaps I should say the lack of health and longevity. I also discussed people’s fear of death and the faint hope for an afterlife. All this made Jesus as Healer and Jesus the Resurrected One a revolutionary reality.
In Professor Hurtado’s book that asks why anyone would become a Christian in the first three hundred years of the church’s existence, he explores healing and resurrection.23 I believe these played an important part in convincing the Roman world that Jesus truly is God’s Son and the world’s Savior. In him there is hope.
Early Christians proclaimed the healing power of Jesus and the reality of his resurrection. Both of these elements—healing and life—were evidence of God’s love for humanity and the true benefaction that God offers humanity through the person and work of his Son. Let’s consider both of these elements, beginning with healing.
Some might say that the healing that took place “in the name of Jesus” was not especially significant or decisive. After all, as Hurtado says, “Miracle-working was by no means confined to Christianity. . . . Miracles were on offer from various sources.”24 Perhaps, but the healing that took place in the name of Jesus was nothing like the healing that supposedly took place through the powers and agency of other healers. In fact, non-Christian exorcists and healers invoked the name of Jesus. Some scholars have suggested that Apollonius of Tyana (c. 40–110) may have been comparable. But a critical sifting of the evidence shows that we know almost nothing of this man, and the biography of his life written by Philostratus of Athens (c. 180–244) more than a century after the death of Apollonius is “highly untrustworthy.”25 In any event, even if the miracles attributed to him are taken at face value (and no historian does this),26 they are little more than tricks and stunts designed to impress an audience. Some are bizarre and grotesque.27
The miracles of Jesus attracted a large following during his public ministry. None of Jesus’ contemporaries denied that Jesus performed miracles and healed people. His contemporary critics attributed his power to Satan,28 while later critics accused Jesus of black magic, perhaps learned in Egypt.29 But no one doubted that he did these things. There were simply too many witnesses and too many people healed to cast it all aside.
The miracles performed in his name, after the resurrection of Jesus, drew many converts. (A number of examples are in the book of Acts.) But it was the resurrection and what it meant for humanity that the Roman world found especially compelling.
As stated earlier, most Romans had no confidence in an afterlife. None that we know of believed in resurrection. Even in mythology, stories of a return to life were rare and did not reflect beliefs with respect to mortals. A common motto found on epitaphs in Roman late antiquity reads: “I was not, I was; I am not, I care not.”30 I suspect, however, that such passivity is more affectation than genuine personal indifference. If nothing else, it is an expression of hopelessness.
But the resurrection of Jesus changed everything. With his resurrection the promise of an authentic, verified afterlife for the followers of Jesus gained a whole new degree of gravitas. What Jesus offered was not pie in the sky but a promise grounded in a real event—an event witnessed firsthand by several witnesses, not all friendly.31
Not surprisingly, pagan critics reacted with mockery. And no one made mockery a greater art form than Celsus, whose polemical True Word was published sometime in the 170s. All that survives of this energetic and entertaining attack against Christianity are quotations, mostly found in Origen’s equally energetic and entertaining response called Against Celsus. Celsus asks the question if “anyone who was really dead ever rose with a real body?”32 He doubts that has happened and does not believe Jesus is an exception. Boiled down, Celsus offers three arguments against the resurrection.
The first objection concerns an apparent lack of logic: If a living, miracle-performing Jesus cannot save himself from the cross, how can a dead Jesus raise himself up? The second objection is concerned with the quality of the witnesses to the resurrection of Jesus. Who were they? A frantic woman, and perhaps another equally addled woman.33 Such a dubious roster of witnesses inspires no confidence. Why should anyone believe such a story? The third objection follows up on the second objection: Had Jesus really been raised from the dead, one would have expected him to show himself to those who had ordered his death. Surely, appearing to the officials who had him crucified would have been very impressive and very convincing. Writing a generation later, Porphyry wonders the same thing: Why didn’t Jesus confront Pilate?34 Celsus concludes that the story of the resurrection is either based on delusion or on deceit.
The objections of Celsus are reasonable and, on his terms, are probably unassailable. But if the activities, teachings, and events relating to Jesus are properly understood in historical and social context, the objections carry no weight. Let me explain.
The first objection misses the point that it was God who raised Jesus, not Jesus himself. Jesus had faith in God and taught his disciples to have faith in God. The ultimate test of Jesus’ faith was expressed as he died on the cross: “Father, into thy hands I commit my spirit!”35 The second and third objections—that the first witnesses to the empty tomb and to the risen Jesus were frightened women and not men of status—actually cut against Celsus. He argues that the story of the resurrection is either delusion or deceit. If so, then why not tell a better story? Why give such prominence to women? Given the prejudice against women in late antiquity, as plainly evident in Celsus himself, one would expect a fabricated story to feature credible men, including Jewish and Roman officials who were not among the following of Jesus. The restrained Passion accounts we find in the Gospels point toward truth, not deceit, delusion, or embellishment.
The fact that the Christian church grew rapidly implies that the objections of Celsus did not enjoy much success. In his derisive criticisms, carried to even greater extremes in Porphyry, I sense a rearguard action; one might even say arguments in retreat. Mockery is usually a sign that the argument is not being won.
Worshiping a crucified Savior, confessed as God’s unique Son, struck many in the Roman world as ludicrous. Lucian of Samosata (c. 115–185), writing about the same time as Celsus, tells his readers that Christians “worship that crucified sophist.”36 Other critics assert that Christians worship the “head of an ass.”37 One of the best known graffiti recovered from the ruins of Rome was found on the Palatine Hill. Dating to the end of the second century, it depicts a Christian slave saluting a crucified figure with the head of a donkey. Beneath the crude etching is the inscription that reads: “Alexamenos worships his god.”38 I have no doubt that his fellow slaves thought it very funny and that Alexamenos was a fool. This is why the apostle Paul, writing in the middle of the first century, said of himself and all Christians, “We are fools for Christ’s sake.”39 This is why, in writing to the Christians of Rome, he declares, “I am not ashamed of the gospel.”40 He says this because contemporary culture regarded the death of Jesus as shameful and, therefore, belief in him as foolish.
But the mockery, misrepresentations, caricatures, persecutions, and occasional martyrdoms could not stop the Christian movement. Its message of a loving God, the example of a loving community, in which every man, woman, and child was wanted and valued, and the hope of life in this world and beyond, thanks to the resurrection of Jesus, were irresistible. Many mocked but far more believed. They believed (if I may appeal to Paul once again) because they discovered that the gospel “is the power of God for salvation.”41
As we can see, the reactions to Jesus were varied and mixed. Some liked him, some did not; but it seems all agreed that there was no one like him. It was this “no one like him” that in the end overwhelmed the Roman Empire. Its emperors were phony sons of god and make-believe benefactors who promised good news but never delivered. The teachings and deeds of Jesus, in contrast, were on a completely different level. The message of Jesus was relevant, even if unexpected, unusual, and contrary to the conventions of the time.
For all their bravado, Romans faced an uncertain world and looked for answers wherever they could find them. Among the papyri recovered from the trash heaps of Egypt, we find a category of writings dubbed “Questions to Oracles.” Here are a few examples: In the Fayum district a man addresses “Sokanobhoneus the great, great god. Answer me, shall I remain in Bacchias? Shall I meet him? Answer me this.”42 Another in Fayum petitions: “O lords Dioscuri, is it fate for him to depart to the city? Bring this to pass, and let him come to an agreement with your brother.”43 Others ask “Lord Serapis” or “Zeus Helios” for business advice.44
The people of the Roman Empire were seeking answers. Their gods and emperors were not providing them. Then they heard about this crucified Jew from Israel. What his followers said about him was like nothing they had heard before. It got them thinking. Added to this, they saw the compassion and concern that early Christians had for human life, at times requiring great sacrifice. It had a profound effect on the world, including Romans following Jesus of Nazareth.