From the year 120 to 130 the Episcopate was elaborated in the Christian
Church, and the creation of the Episcopate was eminently a Roman work.
All _ecclesiæ_ imply a little hierarchy,--a bureau as it is called
to-day,--a president, some assessors, and a small staff of men in its
service. Democratic associations are careful that these functions shall
be limited as far as possible as to power and duration; but from this
arises that precarious something which has prevented any democratic
association from outlasting the circumstances which have created it. The
Jewish synagogues have had more continuity, although the synagogical
body has never come to be a clergy. This is the result of the
subordinate place which Judaism has held during several centuries: the
pressure from without has counteracted the effects of internal
divisions. If the Christian Church had been left with the same absence
of directorship, it would doubtless have missed its destiny.
If its ecclesiastical powers had continued to be regarded as emanating
from the Church itself, it would have lost all its hieratic and
theocratic character. It was written, on the contrary, that a clergy
should monopolize the Christian Church, and substitute themselves for
it. Acting as its spokesman, presenting itself as having the sole power
of attorney in every thing, this clergy will be its strength, and at the
same time its gnawing worm,--the principal cause of its future falls.
I repeat, that history has no example of a more complete transformation
than that which occurred in the government of the Christian Church about
the time of Hadrian and Antonine. What happened in the Christian Church
will happen in any association in which the subordinates could resign in
favor of the bureau, and that again in favor of the president; so that
afterwards the subordinates and the seniors would have no deliberative
voice nor influence, nor any control in the management of the funds, and
the president would be able to say, "I alone, I, am the association."
The _presbyteri_ (seniors) or _episcopi_ (superintending officers)
became very soon the only representatives of the Church; and almost
immediately another still more important revolution took place. Among
the _presbyteri_ or _episcopi_, there had been one, who, through the
habit of occupying the principal seat, absorbed the power of the others,
and became pre-eminently the _episcopos_ or the _presbyteros_. The form
of worship contributed powerfully to the establishment of this unity.
The eucharistic act could only be celebrated by one person, and gave to
the celebrant an extreme importance. That _episcopos_, with a surprising
rapidity, became the head of the presbytery, and, consequently, the
entire Church. His _cathedra_ was placed apart, and, having the form of
an arm-chair, became the seat of honor, the symbol of primacy. From this
time, each church has but one chief _presbyteros_, who is thus called to
the exclusion of the other _episcopi_. Beside this bishop, there were
deacons, widows, and a council of _presbyteri_: but the great step has
been taken; the bishop is the sole successor of the prophets, his
associates have disappeared. Apostolic authority, reputed as transmitted
by the laying-on of hands, suppressed the authority of the community.
The bishops of the various churches soon placed themselves in
communication with the others, and formed of the Universal Church a sort
of oligarchy, which held assemblies, censured its members, decided
questions of faith, and was in itself a true sovereign power. On one
side, the shepherds; on the other, the flock. Primitive equality no
longer existed: in fact, it had endured but a single day. The Church,
however, was only an instrument in the hands of those who guided her;
and these held their power, not from the community, but from the
spiritual inheritance of a transmission claiming to date back to the
apostles in a continuous line. It is evident that the representative
system will never be in any degree whatever the law of the Christian
Church.
It was the Episcopate, without the intervention of civil power, with no
support from the tribunals, which thus established order above liberty
in a society originally founded upon individual inspiration. This is why
the Ebionites, who had no Episcopate, had also no idea of Catholicity.
At first sight, the work of Jesus was not made to last. Founded upon a
belief in the destruction of the world, which, as years rolled on, was
proved an error, it seemed that his congregation could only dissolve in
anarchy. The prophetic book, the _charismes_, the speaking of tongues,
individual inspiration, were no more than were necessary to bring all
again into the proportions of a common chapel. Individual inspiration
created, but immediately destroyed what it created. After liberty, law
is necessary. The work of Jesus might be considered as saved the day in
which it was admitted that the Church has a direct power, a power
representing that of Jesus. Since then the Church dominates the
individual, drawing him to her bosom through his need. Inspiration
passes from the individual to the community. The clergy is the dispenser
of all pardons, the intermediary between God and the faithful.
Obedience, first to the Church, then to the bishop, becomes the highest
duty. Innovation is the sign of error: schism, henceforth, will be for
the Christian the worst of crimes.
In a certain regard one may say that this was a decadence, a diminution
of that spontaneity which had been eminently creative until now. It was
evident that ecclesiastical forms were about to absorb, to stifle, the
work of Jesus, that all free manifestations of Christian life would soon
be arrested. Under the censure of the Episcopate, the speaking of
tongues, prophecy, the creation of legends, the making of new sacred
books, would soon become withered powers, the _charismes_ would be
reduced to official sacraments. In another sense, however, such a
transformation was the essential condition of the strength of humanity.
And, moreover, the centralization of powers became necessary when
churches were more numerous: intercourse between these little pious
societies would be impossible, unless they had representatives appointed
to act for them. It is undeniable, moreover, that, without the
Episcopate, the churches, re-united for a time by the souvenirs of
Jesus, would gradually have been dispersed. The divergences of opinion,
the difference in the turn of imagination, and, above all, the
rivalries, and the unsatisfied _amours-propres_, would have operated by
their infinite effects of disunion and disintegration. Christianity
would have expired at the end of three or four centuries, like
Mithraicism and so many other sects which were not allowed to endure.
Democracy is sometimes eminently creative; but it is upon the condition
that the democracy comes forth from conservative institutions which
prevent the revolutionary fever from prolonging itself indefinitely.
Here was the greatest miracle of the new Christianity. It drew order,
hierarchy, authority, and obedience from the free subjection of desires:
it organized the crowd; it disciplined anarchy. What does this miracle
accomplish other than to strike at the pretended derogations to the laws
of physical nature? The spirit of Jesus strongly inoculated in his
disciples that spirit of sweetness, of abnegation, of forgetfulness of
the present; that unique pursuit of interior joys which kills ambition;
that strong preference given to childhood; those words repeated without
ceasing, as from Jesus, "Whoever is first among you, let him be the
servant of all." The influence of the apostles was not less in that
direction. The apostles lived and ruled after their death. The idea that
the head of the Church held his command under the members of the Church
who had elected him never once occurs in the literature of this time.
The Church thus escaped through the supernatural origin of its power,
that element of decay which exists in delegated authority. A legislative
and executive authority may come from the people; but sacraments and
dispensations of celestial pardons have nothing in common with universal
suffrage. Such privileges come from heaven, or, according to the
Christian formula, from Jesus Christ, the source of all pardon and of
all good.
The religion of Jesus thus became something solid and consistent. The
great danger of Gnosticism, which was to divide Christianity into
numberless sects, was exorcised. The word "Catholic Church" resounded
everywhere, as the name of that great body which would thenceforth
survive the ages unbroken. The character of this catholicity is already
seen. The Montanists are regarded as sectarian; the Marcionites are
convinced of the falseness of the apostolic doctrine; the different
Gnostic schools are more and more driven from the bosom of the general
church. Something had arisen which was neither Montanism, nor
Marcionism, nor Gnosticism; which was Christianity, not sectarian,--the
Christianity of the majority of bishops, resisting sects, and using them
all, having, if you will, only negative characters, but preserved by
these negative characters from the pietist aberrations, and from
dissolving rationalism. Christianity, like all parties who wish to live,
disciplines itself, and restrains its own excesses. It unites to
mystical exaltation a fund of good sense and moderation which will kill
Millenarism, Charisms, Glossolaly, and all the primitive phenomenal
spirits. A handful of excited men, like the Montanists, running into
martyrdom, discouraging penitence, condemning marriage, are not the
Church. The _juste milieu_ triumphs. Radicals of any sort will never be
allowed to destroy the work of Jesus. The Church is always of a medium
opinion: it belongs to all the world, and is not the privilege of an
aristocracy. The pietist aristocracy of the Phrygian sects and the
speculative aristocracy of the Gnostics are equally stripped of their
pretensions.
In the midst of the enormous variety of opinions which fill the first
Christian age, the Catholic opinion constitutes a sort of standard. It
was not necessary to reason with the heretic in order to convince him.
It was sufficient to show him that he was not in communion with the
Catholic Church, with the grand churches which trace the succession of
their bishops to the apostles. _Quod semper, quod ubique_ became the
absolute rule of truth. The argument of prescription to which Tertullian
gave such eloquent force reviews all the Catholic controversy. To prove
to any one that he was an innovator, a disturber, was to prove that he
was wrong,--an insufficient rule, since, by a singular irony of fate,
the doctor himself who developed this method of refutation in so
imperious a manner, Tertullian, died a heretic.
Correspondence between the churches was an early custom. Circular
letters from the heads of the great churches, read on Sunday in the
re-unions of the faithful, were a sort of continuation of the apostolic
literature. The ecclesiastical province, questioning the precedency of
the great churches, appeared in germ. The Church, like the synagogue and
the mosque, is essentially a citadel. Christianity, like Judaism and
Islamism, is a religion of cities. The countryman, the _paganus_, will
be the last resistance which Christianity will encounter. The few rural
Christians came to the church of the neighboring city. The Roman
municipality thus enclosed the church. Among the cities, the _civitas_,
the grand city, was alone a veritable church, with an _episcopos_. The
small city was in ecclesiastical dependence on the great city. This
primacy of the great cities was an important fact. The great city once
converted, the small city and the country followed the movement. The
diocese was thus the unity of the conglomerate Christians. As for the
ecclesiastical province, it corresponded to the Roman province: the
divisions of worship of Rome and Augustus were the secret law which
ruled all. Those cities which had a flamen, or _archiereus_, are those
which later had an archbishop: the _flamen civitatis_ became the bishop.
After the third century, the flamen held the rank in the city which was
later that of the bishop in the diocese. Thus it happened that the
ecclesiastical geography of a country was very nearly the geography of
the same country in the Roman epoch. The picture of the bishops and the
archbishops is that of the ancient _civitates_, according to their line
of subordination. The empire was as the mould in which the new religion
was formed. The interior framework, the outlines, the hierarchical
divisions, were those of the empire. The ancient archives of the Roman
administration, and the church-registers of the middle ages, and even
those of our own day, are nearly the same thing.
Thus the grand organisms which have become so essential a part of the
moral and political life of European nations were all created by those
_naïve_ and sincere Christians, whose faith has become inseparable from
the moral culture of humanity. The Episcopate under Marcus Aurelius was
fully ripe: the Papacy existed in germ. [OE]cumenical councils were
impossible. The Christian Empire alone could authorize great assemblies;
but the provincial synod was used in the affairs of the Montanists and
of the Passover. The bishop of the capital of the province was allowed
to preside without contest.