The Oxford History of the Biblical World (94 page)

It is significant that Tacitus—making one of the earliest direct references to Jesus’ followers outside the New Testament—uses the popular name
Christiani
to describe them. The name
Christian
is not used in the earliest New Testament literature, the letters of Paul and the Gospels. The authors of these documents considered belief in Jesus as the Messiah to be a fulfillment of Judaism and saw no need to identify themselves as a group apart from that tradition. The term
Christian
appears twice in
the book of Acts and once in 1 Peter. In all three instances, the context of the usage implies that the title was given to the Jesus followers by others, and (as in Tacitus) in 1 Peter the title is a term of approbation: “But if one among you should suffer as a ‘Christian,’ do not be ashamed, but glorify God on account of this name” (1 Pet. 4.16; my translation). This supports the claim of Tacitus that it was the crowds who gave the name
Christian
to the believers, and suggests that only later did it become a term of self-identification.

In reporting on the reaction to the fire of Rome, Tacitus also provides a brief history of the Jesus movement, mentioning that “Christus,” the founder, had been executed in Judea by the procurator Pontius Pilate during the reign of Tiberius. He adds that the “deadly superstition” was temporarily repressed, but eventually revived and spread to Rome, “the city where horrible and shameful things from all over the world flow together and are praised” (
Annales
15.44). The Christians were accused of practicing superstition because their refusal to worship the traditional gods of Rome seemed to jeopardize the stability of Roman society. Thus it would have been natural to blame them for the tragic conflagration.

Nero’s punishments were said to be so horrible, however, that pity for the Christians replaced initial popular anger. Some condemned believers were covered with wild beast skins and torn to death by dogs; others were crucified and burned as human torches (
Annales
15.44). These atrocities are said to have taken place in Nero’s garden and racecourse (
circus).

In describing this repression of Christianity under Nero, Tacitus is influenced by concerns over the movement in his own time, when the church was increasingly a force to be reckoned with and when this kind of literary attack was just one of the weapons used against it. During the first decade of the second century, the correspondence between Pliny the Younger and the emperor Trajan (98–117) reveals anxiety about private associations in general and Christianity in particular. Trajan tells Pliny not to allow the formation of an association of firefighters at Nicomedia out of fear that it might turn into a political club. Pliny also asks for confirmation of his handling of persons accused of being Christians in the regions of Pontus and Bithynia (
Epistulae
10.34, 10.96). It is possible that Tacitus reads this contemporary concern back into earlier history when describing Nero’s response to the fire at Rome.

Nero was capable of this kind of evil, but it is strange that the brutality went unreported for fifty years. If Nero did execute followers of Jesus in such horrible ways, it did not become common practice. In the early second century, Pliny the Younger mentions that he had never been present at the trial of a Christian. Since Pliny had spent the previous thirty years deeply involved in legal and political matters in the capital, this comment implies that few trials of Christians took place in Rome during the second half of the first century.

In the wake of the fire, Nero could have lashed out at a particularly vulnerable group, but there is no evidence that imperial officials sponsored systematic or widespread persecution of Jesus followers for the rest of the first century or well into the second. Occasional points of conflict, like the arrest and execution of Bishop Ignatius of Antioch and the tribulation inspiring the book of Revelation, occur around the end of the first century but appear to be isolated incidents. Some scholars see the book of Revelation as a response to persecution of Jesus followers during the reign
of Nero rather than under Domitian (81–96
CE
). There is no other evidence, however, that Nero’s attacks on believers in Jesus went beyond the response to the fire reported by Tacitus. Later church tradition blaming Nero for the execution at Rome of Paul and Peter may be based in large part on the emperor’s reputation.

A further clue to the extent of imperial persecution under Nero can be found in Paul’s letter to the community of Jesus followers in Rome in which Paul encourages his readers to cooperate with the empire: “Let every person be subject to the governing authorities; for there is no authority except from God, and those authorities that exist have been instituted by God. Therefore whoever resists authority resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgment” (Rom. 13.1–2). This admonition reveals Paul’s desire to see the community of believers operating within the Roman political apparatus. He argues that the political authority “is God’s servant for your good.” The only people who have reason to fear this servant are those who do evil rather than good. Paul must know that this is not always true, since he himself had suffered at the hands of authorities during his ministry (2 Cor. 11). Nevertheless, Paul advises the church in Rome to acquiesce to the usual demands of the governing body: “Pay to all what is due them—taxes to whom taxes are due, revenue to whom revenue is due, respect to whom respect is due, honor to whom honor is due” (Rom. 13.7). Later writers will be even more explicit in telling the community how to react in the face of authorities who threaten them (see 1 Peter). Given the ultimate power of Roman officials, it is not surprising that Christian leaders such as Paul counseled their followers to conform to the expectations of political authorities.

Even allowing for historical exaggeration regarding his misdeeds, Nero did not deserve the sort of respect Paul urges. His life was one of destructive debauchery. In addition to drinking and sexual depravity, he is reported to have committed crimes ranging from battery to robbery and murder (Suetonius,
Nero
26.1). By the end of his reign, he had alienated or assassinated most relatives and close associates. It is telling that the list of his victims includes his teacher Seneca, who had counseled Nero early in his reign to rule with a sober and merciful attitude, not “by anger to excessive punishment, nor by youthful passion, nor by human rashness and stubbornness which have often wrung patience from even the most quiet of hearts, nor even with the arrogance which shows authority by means of terror” (
De dementia
1.1.2–3).

In June 68
CE
, when the same crowds who had welcomed his accession were now calling for his head, Nero was forced to commit suicide. His final words as reported by Dio were “O Zeus, what an artist is being destroyed” (Dio Cassius 63). Before his death, the senate had already convicted Nero of treason (
maiestas)
and declared that he was an enemy of the people (Suetonius,
Nero
49). The punishment for such a crime included
damnatio memoriae,
which meant that all traces of the individual would be erased from the Roman public record. This included both inscriptions and visual portrayals, and ensured a great deal of erasure work for stone carvers. In the east, however, the legacy of Nero lived on in some circles, and the prediction of Nero returning (
redivivus)
after death became a popular myth.

This expectation of a return of the deceased emperor developed at about the same
time as an increase in hopes for the imminent return of Jesus. Not everyone in the early church was convinced that belief in the second coming of Jesus was essential. In 1 Corinthians Paul goes to great lengths to persuade some readers that faith in Jesus is meaningless without belief in the second coming and the concomitant resurrection of the dead (1 Cor. 15). John’s Gospel stresses the community receiving the Holy Spirit, rather than the return of Jesus. But Mark’s Gospel, written shortly after the death of Nero in 68, emphasizes the second coming. Its author seems concerned to provide sound teaching on the topic so that his audience will not be led astray by false messiahs proclaiming the end times (Mark 13.21–27). In Mark, discussion of the second coming is connected to the turmoil caused by the destruction of the Jerusalem Temple in 70
CE
. The expectation for a return of the deceased Nero, however, may have resulted from the struggle to fill the power vacuum created by that emperor’s demise.

Nero’s execution of his rivals, coupled with similar actions by his predecessors, meant that when he died no member of his family could claim power. Thus with Nero the Julio-Claudian dynasty, in power for more than a century, died out. The question of succession was more open than ever before, and the Roman legions became even more influential in determining who would be the next emperor.

In 68
CE
, Servius Sulpicius Galba was serving his eighth year as Roman governor of Hispania Tarraconensis (eastern Spain). Even before the death of Nero, Galba’s troops declared him to be a special representative of the senate. Once Nero had died, other legions followed suit, and Galba was acclaimed as Caesar. He ruled for six months, but was betrayed by his associate Otho, who conspired to have him killed and then became emperor with the support of the Praetorian Guard in Rome and several other legions. At the same time, however, troops loyal to Vitellius had already proclaimed him to be Caesar, so a tense battle was played out between the troops of Otho and those of Vitellius. After three months Vitellius forced Otho to commit suicide, but his victory proved short-lived.

The Roman legions had come to appreciate their own power in determining who would be emperor. Troops in the east put forward the commander of Roman forces in Palestine, Titus Flavius Vespasianus, who appeared reluctant to take power. Suetonius reports that Vespasian’s position was strengthened when two thousand soldiers from Moesia (modern Bulgaria) decided to support him. This bold move was said to be motivated by the realization “that they were not inferior to the Spanish army which had appointed Galba, or to the Praetorian Guard which had elected Otho, or to the German army which had appointed Vitellius” (
Vespasian
6.2).

Vespasian’s popularity with the troops was due in no small part to his successful campaigns against the Jews in Palestine who had rebelled against Roman control in 66
CE
. Vespasian managed to repress the revolutionaries elsewhere in the territory, leaving the final defeat of the Jewish forces in Jerusalem to his son Titus. Vespasian’s victories are described in great detail by the Jewish general Josephus, who gained the future emperor’s favor after the rebel forces he commanded were defeated at Jotapata in Galilee. On the basis of his prediction that Vespasian would soon be emperor, the
captive Josephus became a guest of the imperial family in Rome, where he lived out the last third of the century, writing histories of the Jewish people. Not surprisingly, his accounts highlighted Roman beneficence.

Given the high level of intrigue and instability in the empire following the death of Nero, it was not farfetched to predict in 68
CE
that Vespasian would become Caesar, however preposterous such a prediction would have been at his birth, given the stratification of Roman society. Vespasian’s family was of the equestrian order and therefore would have had limited access to the path of civic offices (
cursus honorum)
that led to imperial power. His uncle, however, had gained access to the senate, and this connection put Vespasian in a position to exercise military leadership. Suetonius remarks that one reason Nero selected Vespasian for the highprofile task of putting down the rebellion in Judea was that Vespasian’s humble family made him no threat to Nero’s rule, even as a conquering general (
Vespasian
4.5). Nero’s death and the end of the Julio-Claudian dynasty, however, created a situation in which boundaries between the upper classes in Rome could be breached solely on the basis of military strength.

After learning that his son Domitian was in control of affairs in Rome, Vespasian left his other son, Titus, in command of the troops in Judea and began his journey to the capital. On the way he stopped in Alexandria to ensure that the Egyptian troops would support his imperial claim. He also visited the famous temple of the Egyptian mystery deity Serapis to read the omens surrounding his coming to power. While in the temple, he was welcomed by an unknown presence, and after exiting he miraculously healed a blind and lame man (Suetonius,
Vespasian
7.2–3). These and other signs provided further assurance that Vespasian had divine approval to be emperor. When news came that Vitellius was dead, Vespasian moved on toward Rome to inaugurate a new imperial dynasty for himself and his sons. This Flavian dynasty would not last as long as the Julio-Claudian, but it would have a great impact on the history of the later empire and on the developing Christian churches.

Once in power, Vespasian proved to be a ruler of stature and effectiveness. Suetonius claims that both his foreign policy and his care for Rome and her citizens were great. The historian is especially impressed by Vespasian’s humility, saying that “he was civil and merciful from the beginning of his principate until its end” (
Vespasian
12). Dio’s assessment is likewise positive: “He was considered emperor because of his concern for the public good, but in all other things he lived equally and in common with the people” (Dio Cassius 65.11.1). Suetonius does complain about Vespasian’s greed, which led him to impose heavy taxes and even confiscate riches, but even this is excused due to “the desperate state of the treasury” (
Vespasian
16.3). The ancient historians also point out the many good works done by Vespasian, including the establishment of endowed chairs of Latin and Greek rhetoric in Rome.