Now, let’s take a look into the development of the Church, and some of those “men who ran it". In the early fourth century, the trinity issue and numerous other doctrines, were still highly contested. It was then that the greatest author of Christianity, since Paul, stormed onto the scene.

In the spring of 312 AD, the Roman Empire was in a state of upheaval. In the East, the old Caesar was dying and Christians were the subjects of designed, imperial extermination. In the West, the Emperor Constantine was marching against Rome and his rival, Maxentius. Constantine was outnumbered. He faced the prospect of attacking a fortified city where his foe’s position was more strategic. Also, Constantine believed Maxentius was the possessor of a strong magical enchantment. As a worshipper of the sun, the Sol Invictus, Constantine knew he needed some counter magic. What occurred next has been published in countless books. Almost every Christian is familiar with Constantine's vision, which he described as a cross glowing in the sky, with the words, "by this sign you will be victor.” This event supposedly led him to the Christian God. (Isn’t it interesting how personal visions are so readily accepted as divine proof?) Whether or not Constantine truly experienced a vision has been the subject of much debate but for whatever reason, he credited the Christian God for his success in defeating his rival and attaining the throne. It appears that the same superstitious fear that led him to seek a sign also drove him to champion the Catholic Church, and in turn, pave the way for Christianity to become the state religion.

Apparently, Constantine was terrified of losing God’s favor, and thus his throne, for whenever he perceived a threat against the Christians, he personally took steps to rectify the situation. In 313 AD, he issued the Edict of Milan, which proclaimed official toleration of the Christian faith. Later, that toleration was extended to favorite status, and finally, Christianity was the only recognized religion. One of Constantine's first acts was to put the clergy on the state payroll, thereby buying their loyalty and negating voluntary contributions, as decreed by Paul. Next, he donated a large private estate to Miltiades, the Bishop of Rome, and lured him and his successors away from Jesus’ distain for riches. He rebuilt the churches that had been destroyed during recent persecutions. Exiles were allowed to return and their property was restored. Special monetary gifts were given to the families of martyrs and those who “confessed Christ” (In other words he bought converts). And he sent letters to the Eastern Emperors imploring them to cease persecution of the Christians. Because of the dissensions between the various Christian sects, he stepped in and dictated a settlement. When the problem persisted, he proclaimed the Catholic Church the only Church and declared all others heretic. 

His zeal for, and fear of, the Christian God was so great that he did everything possible to appease his new deity—short of accepting baptism. The effects upon the Church were like the unleashing of an evil plague which spread throughout Christendom.¹ By his actions and decrees he usurped the power, traditions, customs, and rituals of the Catholic Church, and rebuilt it upon the principles of the Roman Empire. He laid the building blocks of the Holy Roman Empire, even though the state would not be recognized until 800 AD.

Prior to this time, all Christians, whether Catholic, Marcionite, Montanist, or Gnostic, had looked forward to the Day of Judgment, when their Savior, Jesus Christ, would return and destroy the Romans and all who did not confess his name.² Imagine the confusion within the Christian world when “Rome” suddenly did an about-face and became their protector and benefactor. Considering the Church's belief that all rulers were ordained by God, is it any wonder they believed Constantine had been elevated to that role? He was certainly championing their cause. And when he began using all means available to destroy the wickedness of the pagans, what else could Christians do but embrace this unexpected gift from heaven? And so it was, that the spiritual warriors yielded to the secular designs of Constantine.

Did Constantine really see a vision? Was he a true convert to Christianity? Or did he see Christianity as a ready means to consolidate his empire? Since he only turned to the Christians after he had secured the throne, it is most likely that he was acting under superstitious beliefs, but the truth was that Christians were already rich and powerful enough to overthrow the kingdom.

By the end of the third century, the Catholic Church no longer comprised scattered conclaves of persecuted groups. They had long before begun to attract the wealthy and intelligent. They were organized with their own dioceses and seats of government, their own clergy, and influential leaders. Being outlawed, they had avoided taxation, in many cases. That, plus over two hundred years of passing wealth on in perpetuity had given them financial power. A hundred years before, Tertullian (c. 200 AD) had written that they were numerous enough to overthrow the Empire:

 

We are but of yesterday, and we fill everything you have—cities, tenements, forts, towns, exchanges, yes! And camps, tribes, palace, senate, forum. All we leave you with are the Temples! For what wars should we not be fit, not eager, even with unequal forces, we who so willingly yield ourselves to the sword, if in our religion it were not counted better to be slain than to slay? Without arms even, and raising no insurrectionary banner, but simply in enmity to you, we could carry on the contest with you by an ill-willed severance alone. For if such multitudes of men were to break away from you, and betake themselves to some remote corner of the world, why, the very loss of so many citizens, whatever sort they were, would cover the empire with shame; nay, in the very forsaking, vengeance would be inflicted. Why, you would be horror-struck at the solitude in which you would find yourselves, at such an all-prevailing silence, and that stupor as of a dead world. You would have to seek subjects to govern. You would have more enemies than citizens remaining. For now it is the immense number of Christians which makes your enemies so few, almost all the inhabitants of your various cities being followers of Christ (Apology, Chap. 37.326).

 

Throughout all Christendom, much has been publicized of Christians being executed or tossed to the lions. Such tales were highly exaggerated; most of those tossed to the lions were criminals, prisoners of war, or deserters from the army.³ True, from the second and into the fourth century, there were persecutions of Christians. At times they were reviled, discriminated against, and forced to recant or else suffer torture and death. However, most often such persecutions came from within their own ranks, from rival sects, or from the local populace. There was no systematic, government persecution before the second half of the second century.⁴ The worst episodes were isolated incidents, or occurred under weak and vulnerable rulers such as Nero, Domitian, Septimus Severus, and Diocletian. For the most part, Rome accepted Christianity as another religion. They were left alone, so long as they caused no trouble. They did not hide in the catacombs; to do so would have conflicted with their faith. Tertullian, considered one of the greatest Church writers, and the first to introduce Latin works, says they identified themselves:

 

At every forward step and movement, at every going in and out, when we put on our clothes and shoes, when we bathe, when we sit at table, when we light the lamps, on couch, on seat, in all the ordinary actions of daily life, we trace upon out forehead the sign of the cross (De Corona).

 

And from the First Apology of Justin Martyr:

 

And reckon ye that it is for your sakes we have been saying these things; for it is in our power, when we are examined, to deny that we are Christians; but we would not live by telling a lie. For, impelled by the desire of the eternal and pure life, we seek the abode that is with God, the Father and Creator of all, and hasten to confess our faith, persuaded and convinced as we are that they who have proved to God by their works that they followed Him, and loved to abide with Him where there is no sin to cause disturbance, can obtain these things.

 

Certain sects of the early Christians were fanatical in their beliefs, and as a number of writers have stated, “zealous for death,” that they might be with their Lord.⁵

Even though Constantine labored diligently in his new God’s behalf, he obviously saw the potential opportunities offered by a union with such a group—plus the consequences that resistance could eventually bring to pass. He put his civil power behind the Church and became one of the greatest authors in the annals of Christianity. As their champion, he was accepted greedily, blindly, and without reservation. In 323 AD, Constantine summoned the first General Council of the Church at Nicea.

 

The Emperor himself presided, “like some heavenly messenger of God," as one of those present, Eusebius, Bishop of Caesarea, expressed it. At the conclusion of the council the bishops dined with the Emperor. “The circumstances of the banquet,” wrote Eusebius (who was inclined to be impressed by such things), “were splendid beyond description. Detachments of the bodyguard and other troops surrounded the entrance of the palace with drawn swords, and through the midst of these men of God proceeded without fear into the
innermost of the imperial apartments. Some were the Emperor's own companions at table, others reclined on couches ranged on either side. One might have thought it was a picture of Christ's kingdom, and a dream rather than reality.” (Bishop Kallistos Ware, The Orthodox Church).

 

Eusebius was the nominal host, and one of three prominent Church leaders at the Council of Nicea. From the beginning, Constantine took control and directed the proceedings. Because of his support for Arianism, Eusebius was asked to validate his orthodoxy by giving his confession of faith. After he did so, Constantine asked him point blank if he could accept the term homoousios, “of one substance,” to explain the relationship between the Father and Son. Eusebius caved-in and denied Arianism.⁶ From that moment on, the council was Constantine’s and Eusebius was his boot-licker. For the rest of his life, Eusebius worked incessantly to integrate the Church within Roman administrative guidelines.

But what type of person was Constantine and what contributions did he make to the growth and stability of the Church? Erich Von Daniken, in Miracles Of The Gods, enlightens us.

 

It all began with the councils, the assemblies of ecclesiastical senior pastors for dealing with important ecclesiastical affairs. A prerequisite for the appointment of an official of the Church is that he have “charisma,” i.e., that he share the “divine gift of grace.” So, when councils with such illustrious members meet, the Holy Ghost is among them, omnipresent and active.

 

The Assemblies of the first five Ecumenical (which means the whole Catholic Church) Councils of the early Christian world set the standards for the doctrine and organization of the new religion.

 

The oldest dogmas, which are still valid today, were proclaimed at Nicaea (AD 325), Constantinople (381), Ephesus (431), Chalcedon (451), and again at Constantinople (553). It is worthwhile to pause for a minute and take a quick look at how the Councils came into being and what decisions were made by them—presumably for all eternity.

 

The first Ecumenical Council took place at Nicaea. The Council was convened by the Emperor Constantine (who was not crowned until he was on his deathbed), because he wanted to use the rapidly expanding Christian religion, with its great potentialities, to strengthen the Roman Empire. When Constantine selected and brought together the 318 bishops for the Council, it was pure power politics, religious concerns taking very much of a back seat. Even the charismatic bishops can have had no doubt about that, for not only did the Emperor preside over the council, he also expressly proclaimed that his will was ecclesiastical law. The senior pastors accepted him as “Universal Bishop,” even though he was uncrowned, and they let him take part in votes on Church dogmas as a secular prince. Ecclesiastical and earthly interests entered into an astonishing symbiosis even at that early stage!

 

Constantine was completely ignorant of Jesus' teaching. He was a follower of the solar cult of Mithras (ancient Iranian god of light), who was portrayed on coins as the “invincible sun” and worshipped until far into the Christian era. When Constantine gave his name to the old Greek commercial city of Byzantium and made Constantinople (330) the capital of the Roman Empire, he had a mighty column erected for the ceremonial opening of the metropolis with the Emperor and the invincible sun on top of it, forgetting all about Christian humility. Clouds of incense floated in the air, and candlelit processions made their tortuous way through the streets in his honor. Far from abolishing slavery, in the Christian spirit of loving one’s neighbor, the Pontifex ordered that slaves caught pilfering food have molded lead poured down their throats, and he allowed parents to sell their children in times of need.

 

What were the ecclesiastical/political decisions that this emperor had a hand in?

 

Until Nicaea, the doctrine of Arius of Alexandria that God and Christ were not identical, but only similar, held good. Constantine forced the Council to proclaim that God the Father and Jesus were of the same essence. This absolutely vital amendment became Church dogma by imperial decree. That is how Jesus became identical with God. With this as a foundation, the bishops unanimously passed the 'Nicene Creed.'

 

The non-Christian Constantine did the Church another enormous service. Until that time, the place where Jesus was buried had remained unknown. Then, in the year of grace 326, the Roman Emperor, led by “divine inspiration,” discovered the grave of Jesus, who had just become consubstantial with God. (In 330 Constantine had the Church of the Holy Sepulcher built.) However, this wonderful discovery did not stop Constantine from murdering some of his close relatives during the same year: his son Crispus; his wife, Faustina, whom he had plunged into boiling water; and his father-in-law, Maximian, whom he imprisoned and forced to commit suicide.

 

That is the image of the Emperor and Pontifex who stage-managed the Nicene Creed and who, when the council was over, told the Christian communities in a circular letter that the agreement of the 318 bishops was the “Decision of God” (Miracles of the Gods, Chap. 2, pp. 44-46).

 

Stop and ask yourself—if Jesus was recognized as the son of God as early as the first century, when Paul was writing, why did it take nearly three hundred years, and the intervention of a secular Emperor, for a spirit-led Church to determine his exact relationship with God? The answer is obvious; the decision did not come from the Church, but from Constantine. The Church leaders were so convinced that Constantine was empowered by God they surrendered all control to him.

Such reasoning became Church doctrine in the ensuing centuries as the Emperor was recognized as the head of the secular kingdom of God, while the pope was recognized as the God-ordained head of the spiritual Church. Taking their lead from Constantine, the emperors who succeeded him also made their contributions to the Church. Von Daniken continues:

 

The second Ecumenical Council was at Constantinople. This council was convened by the Emperor Theodosius I (347-395), who was flatteringly nicknamed 'the Great' by the Church. This Roman Emperor did not lag behind his colleague Constantine in moral qualities. He was an open oppressor of the poor, history tells us. He swamped the common people with intolerable burdens, which his tax collectors exacted with brutal tortures. With the full rigor of his imperial power, he forbade anyone to give refuge to these downtrodden creatures. If they did so, he had all the inhabitants of the offending village slaughtered. In the year 390 (almost ten years after the holy council) he had seven thousand rebellious citizens murdered in a frightful bloodbath in the center of the town of Thessalonika—at the same time that the 'Halleluya' ('Praise Jehovah') came into use in Christian churches. Theodosius proclaimed the Christian doctrine the state religion (hence 'the Great') and made Ambrosius, Bishop of Milan, level all heathen sanctuaries to the ground. With his methods, Theodosius could well have been the ancestor of the Inquisition. If Jesus preached a joyous message to the poor and oppressed, Theodosius was Antichrist in person. Yet this Unholy Ghost convened the second Council at Constantinople.

 

What happened there?

 

The dogma of the trinity of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost was introduced into Church doctrine. This was done by the assembly of senior pastors known by theological experts as the Rump Council. It was turned into the 'Niceno-Constantinopolitan Creed.' And—something for connoisseurs of the finer points of theology—the consubstantiality (of Nicaea) now became the identity of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Today the Church still feeds on the dogma of the Trinity that was added in this way (Miracles of the Gods, Chap. 2, pp. 46-47).

 

Evolution of the Christian Heart

 

Constantine was only the first of a long line of emperors who built the Church up to the greatest religious power the world has ever seen, a power that crushed nations and dictated to kings. But their true colors became evident with the atrocities of Theodosius the Great. Under his reign reason and knowledge were crucified to the god of faith, and the entire Christian world began sliding into the dark ages of ignorance. The pre-Nicene Christians looked to the power of God, and the seed of their martyrdom, to perpetuate the Church; after the authority was handed over to Constantine, at the Council of Nicea, the spreading of the gospel was placed in the hands of secular power.

 

The characteristics, however, of the pre-Constantinian hierarchy, in distinction from the post-Constantinian, both Greek and Roman, are, first, its grand simplicity, and secondly, its spirituality, or freedom from all connection with political power and worldly splendor. Whatever influence the church acquired and exercised, she owed nothing to the secular government, which continued indifferent or positively hostile till the protective toleration edict of Constantine (313).

 

Tertullian thought it impossible for an emperor to be a Christian, or a Christian to be an emperor; and even after Constantine, the Donatists persisted in this view, and cast up to the Catholics the memory of the former age: "What have Christians to do with kings? Or what have bishops to do in the palace?" The ante-Nicene fathers expected the ultimate triumph of Christianity over the world from a supernatural interposition at the second Advent. Origen seems to have been the only one in that age of violent persecution who expected that Christianity, by continual growth, would gain the dominion over the world (History of the Christian Church, Philip Shaff).

 

Prior to Constantine’s Edict of Milan, whenever the Christians were persecuted they cried foul and wrote apologies and letters to the emperors and senate, begging to be judged equally with the pagans. One such letter was Justin Martyr’s, First Apology to the Emperor Antoninus Pius in which he presents the Christians’ case.

 

By the mere application of a name, nothing is decided, either good or evil, apart from the actions implied in the name; and indeed, so far at least as one may judge from the name we are accused of, we are most excellent people… For from a name neither praise nor punishment could reasonably spring, unless something excellent or base in action be proved. And those among yourselves who are accused you do not punish before they are convicted; but in our case you receive the name as proof against us, and this although, so far as the name goes, you ought rather to punish our accusers. For we are accused of being Christians, and to hate what is excellent (Christian) is unjust.

 

… Wherefore we demand that the deeds of all those who are accused to you be judged, in order that each one who is convicted may be punished as an evil-doer, and not as a Christian; and if it is clear that any one is blameless, that he may be acquitted, since by the mere fact of his being a Christian he does no wrong.

 

And Tertullian, from his Apology, pleaded with the rulers of Rome:

 

If, again, it is certain that we are the most wicked of men, why do you treat us so differently from our fellows, that is, from other criminals, it being only fair that the same crime should get the same treatment? When the charges made against us are made against others, they are permitted to make use both of their own lips and of hired pleaders to show their innocence. They have full opportunity of answer and debate; in fact, it is against the law to condemn anybody undefended and unheard. Christians alone are forbidden to say anything in exculpation of themselves, in defense of the truth, to help the judge to a righteous decision; all that is cared about is having what the public hatred demands—the confession of the name, not examination of the charge: (Apology, Chap. 2.232).

 

Such was the generally held belief of the early Christians, a belief that cannot but be admired. Earlier, we quoted Tertullian as saying Christians would be perfectly suited for warfare except they counted it “better to be slain than to slay". Prior to Constantine’s sanctioning of the Christian religion, the Church was a spiritual entity; the first true Christians lived as they preached. But when Constantine invested the Church with power, the persecuted began a slow evolution into becoming the persecutors. By the advent of Theodosius, that slow evolution became a raging tide. Tertullian was writing about the year 200 AD; by the reign of Theodosius the Great (379 to 395) the Christians’ sense of values had changed. No longer was there margin for differing beliefs—the Church reigned supreme. Theirs was the kingdom, and Theodosius was their civil arm.

To better understand how a large religious organization, which abhorred violence, could evolve into a persecuting coalition in only a few years, let us study a well-documented case—the Donatists of Africa.

At the beginning of the fourth century, the Church in Africa came under the persecutions of the Emperor Dioceltian. Under his first edict in 303 AD, the Christians were outlawed, their churches were to be destroyed, and all sacred books burned. The fourth edict in 304 AD ordered all to offer incense to idols under pain of death. A hundred years earlier, Tertullian had declared that flight from persecution was unacceptable. So, while some Christians hid from their persecutors, and others hid their books and refused to reveal members’ names many sought martyrdom by confessing Christ or publicly announcing they possessed forbidden writings.

When the persecutions ended in 305 AD, everyone was expected to account for his actions. Those who renounced their faith were termed traditors, meaning “those who had handed over,” and were judged harshly. Priests and bishops lost their authority and were considered by many unfit to perform sacraments. The question arose whether or not the Sacrament of Penance could restore the apostate to full communion. The Catholic view was that after great and lengthy penance, one should be restored. Those who opposed this declared
that after baptism one rendered unfit for Church membership could never be readmitted (the origin of the old “once saved—always saved” doctrine that is still prevalent today). Those who held such views became known as Donatists, named after their leader, Donatus the Great. When some of the priests and bishops who had renounced their faith were reinstated to office, the people were divided. The Donatists elected their own bishops and forced many Catholics from the churches. Constantine attempted unification, but to no avail. During the next few years, councils and meetings could not resolve the issues. Finally, Constantine ordered that ejected Catholic clergy should be restored. The military moved in. The Donatists were evicted and other meeting places were confiscated. In one instance a massacre occurred and a priest was killed. However, the Donatists were so powerful in Africa Constantine instituted a less aggressive policy when he perceived that the situation was only escalating.

Then, probably prior to Constantine’s death, a group known as Circumcellions joined with the Donatist, who called them “soldiers of Christ". However, they were actual fanatical terrorists who gloried in martyrdom. It appears they were either robbing and killing Catholics, or seeking martyrdom by one means or another.

The Donatists were a strong force until about 411 AD, when their power was broken, partly by the critical writings of St. Augustine. The story is much more complex than presented here and provides a good insight into Church history. I won’t pursue it, because our interest lies only with the sudden social changes. Interested readers can find the full story in the Original Catholic Encyclopedia.

This is a fascinating example of how rapidly human values can change. Although the schism between Catholics and Donatists lasted for a hundred years, it appears to have taken less than a dozen years for a national body of Christians to revert from pacifists to little more than highwaymen. Of course, we must make allowances for the fact that the Circumcellions were possibly composed of outsiders. Even so, no doubt the Donatists welcomed their association. What should be gleaned from this drastic turn in ideology is, once again, a zeal for law—howbeit, the Church’s law instead of that of Moses.

As early as the middle of the second century, Irenaeus was already setting a goal that would see the Catholic Church “dispersed throughout the whole world, even to the ends of the earth".⁷ That was just what transpired during the period 100 to 500 AD. Not only the clergy was caught up in the promotion of Christianity, but also the laity and common citizens. The Donatists were not transformed from peace-loving men of God to warring fanatics because they wanted religious freedom, or hated Rome; rather, in protest of what they considered sin. Just as the Jews perceived the Gentiles as corruptors of their Law and defilers of the temple so did the Donatists believe the Catholic priests were corrupting the Word of God and defiling the churches. There were even incidents where Catholics, who wandered into a church, were chased away and the floor where they had walked was scrubbed with salt water as a form of purification.

A similar situation was occurring in the West, following the Church’s consolidation with Constantine but with a reversal of actions, as with Paul’s methods. Where the Donatists and other “heretical” groups were resisting change, the Catholics were instituting compromises in order to convert everyone to Christ. In exchange for Constantine’s protection and religious freedoms, the Church worked frantically to bring about the unity of the people, and thereby, a strengthening of the empire. Where Jesus had resisted authoritative power, the Church sought it greedily. They designed an organization that was geared to manage large numbers of people. Spirituality was sacrificed for expediency. It didn’t matter where one’s heart was, only his loyalty. Anyone who confessed the creed and was baptized, obeyed the Church’s hierarchy, and believed “the one and only truth from the apostles, which is handed down by the Church” was a Christian. Rituals replaced the idea of Christian behavior.

 

The Character of the Councils

There are several kinds of Synods according to their size, Diocesan, Provincial, National, Patriarchal and Ecumenical. Only the first three types convened before the third century. The Provincials were held in the cities once or twice a year under the supervision of the local bishop, who gradually gain primacy over the other bishops of the province. It was in this same manner that the bishoprics in the larger cities such as Alexandria, Antioch and Rome began vying for dominance.

Until the entrance of Constantine and the Niecea Council (325 AD) the synodical meetings were public and the local populace had a voice in the proceedings. After the council of Nicea bishops alone were seated and the priests appeared thereafter merely as secretaries, or representatives of their bishops. The ecumenical council of Nice knew nothing of the five patriarchal cities; Alexandria, Rome, Antioch, Constantinople and Jerusalem, that would later form the edifice of the Catholic hierarchy. Constantinople was yet to be built and Christianity was only taking root in Jerusalem. It would be decades before the friction between East and West split the Church into the Roman and Byzantine Empires.

The Church followed the lead of Constantine and the emperors who succeeded him during the period of the first seven ecumenical councils. (325-787 AD).

 

The emperors after Constantine (as the popes after them) summoned the general councils, bore the necessary expenses, presided in the councils through commissions, gave to the decisions in doctrine and discipline the force of law for the whole Roman empire, and maintained them by their authority. The emperors nominated or confirmed the most influential metropolitans and patriarchs. They took part in all theological disputes, and thereby inflamed the passion of parties. They protected orthodoxy and punished heresy with the arm of power. Often, however, they took the heretical side, and banished orthodox bishops from their sees. Thus Arianism, Nestorianism, Eutychianism, and Monophysitism successively found favor and protection at court (Philip Shaff, History of the Christian Church, vol. III, chap. 3).

 

It was only later, after the fall of the Roman Empire, that the Church attained the power to anoint emperors and dictate policies.

But what of the ecclesiastical dignitaries, the priests, bishops, and popes who formulated and sanctioned Church doctrines and regulations? How did they deport themselves in the assemblies? If a prerequisite for office was the possession of “charisma,” and the “divine gift of grace,” then one would suppose that, in emulation of their Master, the councils would be composed of quiet, peace-loving, intelligent men who were slow to anger, quick to pardon injuries, and impartial in judgment. When the councils were gathered, we might easily imagine refined gentlemen quietly and prayerfully discussing the issues before them. However, in reality, such was not the case. As we have already seen, there was contention on every level.

 

It might have been supposed that nowhere would Christianity appear in such commanding majesty as in a council, which should gather from all quarters of the world the most eminent prelates and the most distinguished clergy; that a lofty and serene piety would govern all their proceedings, and profound and dispassionate investigation exhaust every subject; that human passions and interest would stand rebuked before that awful assembly; that the sense of their own dignity as well as the desire of impressing their brethren with the solemnity and earnestness of their belief would at least exclude all intemperance of manner and language…History shows that melancholy reverse. Nowhere is Christianity less attractive, and if we look to the ordinary tone and character of the proceedings, less authoritative, than in the councils of the church. It is in general a fierce collision of two rival factions, neither of which will yield, each of which is solemnly pledged against conviction. Intrigue, injustice, violence, decisions on authority alone, and that the authority of a turbulent majority, decisions by wild acclamation rather then by sober inquiry, detract from the reverence, and impugn the judgments, at least of the later councils….rejoicing at the damnation imprecated against the humiliated adversary….the degeneracy is rapid from the council of Nicea to that of Ephesus, where each party came determined to use every means of haste, maneuver, court influence, bribery, to crush his adversary; where there was an encouragement of, if not an appeal to the violence of the populace, to anticipate the decrees of the council; where each had his own tumultuous foreign rabble to back his quarrel; and neither would scruple at any means to obtain the ratification of their anathemas through persecution by the evil government (H.H. Milman, D.D., History of Latin Christianity, New York, 1871, p 226).

Every congregation had its preferred books and every diocese its doctrines, especially later, between the Eastern and Western Churches. Even in the writings of Paul we read of open dissension within the Church. Heretical sects, such as the Gnostics, Arians, Eunomians, Semi-Arians, and Acacians, struggled constantly against, and often within, the orthodox Church. There was also a silent struggle between the Church and various Emperors—between the spiritual and the secular.  

By the fourth century, Christians were willing to fight, rather than to die for their particular beliefs. By the fifth century, they had reverted back to the old Saul, “breathing out threatening and slaughter” against all dissenters. Such was the spirit that ruled most gatherings.

 

Together with abundant talents, attainments, and virtues, there were gathered also at the councils ignorance, intrigues, and partisan passions, which had already been excited on all sides by long controversies preceding and now met and arrayed themselves, as hostile armies, for open combat. For those great councils, all occasioned by controversies on the most important and the most difficult problems of theology, are, in fact, to the history of doctrine, what decisive battles are to the history of war. Just because religion is the deepest and holiest interest of man, are religious passions wont to be the most violent and bitter; especially in a time when all classes, from imperial court to market stall, take the liveliest interest in theological speculation, and are drawn into the common vortex of excitement. Hence the notorious rabies theologorum was more active in the fourth and fifth centuries than it has been in any other period of history... (Philip Shaff, History of the Christian Church, vol. III, chap. 5).

The brutality of councils peaked at the synod that met in Ephesus in August of 449. Eutyches, the superior of a convent of monks had been brought before the council to answer the charge of denying the two natures of Christ. The great Lutheran Church historian of the eighteenth century, Johann Lorenz von Mosheim, presents a very enlightening picture of the proceedings that followed.

On the first mention of the two natures of Christ an angry dispute arose. But when the question put to Eutyches by Eusebius of Doryleum was read, whether he acknowledged the two natures after the incarnation, the assembly broke out with one voice, "Away with Eusebius! Banish Eusebius! Let him be burned alive! As he cuts asunder the two natures in Christ, so be he cut asunder!"… The Council proceeded to absolve Eutyches from all suspicion of heterodoxy, and to reinstate him in all his ecclesiastical honors; to depose Flavianus and Eusebius, and to deprive them of all their dignities. Flavianus alone pronounced his appeal; Hilarius, the Roman deacon, alone refused his assent. The unanimity of the assembly is unquestionable, but it is asserted, and on strong grounds, that it was an unanimity enforced by the dread of the imperial soldiery and the savage monks, who environed and even broke in, and violated the sanctity of the Council. … Hilarius the deacon fled to Rome, but not so fortunate was Flavianus. After suffering personal insults, it  is said even blows, from the furious Dioscorus himself, instigated by the monk Barsumas, who shouted aloud, "Strike him, strike him dead!" he expired after a few days, either of his wounds, of exhaustion, or mental suffering. Thus was this the first, but not the last Christian Council which was defiled with blood (Mosheim, Eccl. Hist., Bk. 2, Cent. 5, pt. 2, ch. V, pp.288-289).

 

At the third general council, at Ephesus, 431, all accounts agree that shameful intrigue, uncharitable lust of condemnation, and coarse violence of conduct were almost as prevalent as in the notorious robber-council of Ephesus in 449; though with the important difference, that the former synod was contending for truth, the latter for error. Even at Chalcedon, the introduction of the renowned expositor and historian Theodoret provoked a scene, which almost involuntarily reminds us of the modern brawls of Greek and Roman monks at the holy sepulcher under the restraining supervision of the Turkish police. His Egyptian opponents shouted with all their might: "The faith is gone!  Away with him, this teacher of Nestorius!"  His friends replied with equal violence: "They forced us [at the robber-council] by blows to subscribe; away with the Manichaeans, the enemies of Flavian, the enemies of the faith!  Away with the murderer Dioscorus?  Who does not know his wicked deeds?  The Egyptian bishops cried again: Away with the Jew, the adversary of God, and call him not bishop!"  To which the oriental bishops answered: "Away with the rioters, away with the murderers!  The orthodox man belongs to the council!"  At last the imperial commissioners interfered, and put an end to what they justly called an unworthy and useless uproar (Philip Shaff, History of the Christian Church, vol. III, chap. 5).

 

St. Gregory Nazianzen, … bishop of Constantinople, presided for a time over the second ecumenical council, had so bitter an observation and experience as even to lose, though without sufficient reason, all confidence in councils, and to call them in his poems "assemblies of cranes and geese."  "To tell the truth" … I am inclined to shun every collection of bishops, because I have never yet seen that a synod came to a good end, or abated evils instead of increasing them. For in those assemblies (and I do not think I express myself too strongly here) indescribable contentiousness and ambition prevail, and it is easier for one to incur the reproach of wishing to set himself up as judge of the wickedness of others, than to attain any success in putting the wickedness away. Therefore I have withdrawn myself, and have found rest to my soul only in solitude (Philip Shaff, History of the Christian Church, vol. III, chap. 5).

 

With these accounts the true picture and spirit of the Church is set forth, and yet, Dr. Shaff, ever the true believer, can still maintain: "In all these outbreaks of human passion, however, we must not forget that the Lord was sitting in the ship of the church, directing her safely through the billows and storms. The Spirit of truth, who was not to depart from her, always triumphed over error at last, and even glorified himself through the weaknesses of his instruments." I'm sure such reassurance would have provided comfort and succor to the countless millions of "heretics" who were brave enough to resist with their lives, or fearful enough to submit to religious suppression.

 

Selection of New Testament Writings

 

In the Original Catholic Encyclopedia, the Catholic Church defines their interpretation of the Bible:

 

The Bible, as the inspired record of revelation, contains the word of God; that is, it contains those revealed truths which the Holy Ghost wishes to be transmitted in writing. However, all revealed truths are not contained in the Bible (see Tradition); neither is every truth in the Bible revealed, if by revelation is meant the manifestation of hidden truths which could not otherwise be known. Much of the Scripture came to its writers through the channels of ordinary knowledge, but its sacred character and Divine authority are not limited to those parts which contain revelation strictly so termed. The Bible not only contains the word of God; it is the word of God. The primary author is the Holy Ghost, or, as it is commonly expressed, the human authors wrote under the influence of Divine inspiration. It was declared by the Vatican Council (Sess. III c. ii) that the sacred and canonical character of Scripture would not be sufficiently explained by saying that the books were composed by human diligence and then approved by the Church, or that they contained revelation without error. They are sacred and canonical "because, having been written by inspiration of the Holy Ghost, they have God for their author, and as such have been handed down to the Church". The inerrancy of the Bible follows as a consequence of this Divine authorship. Wherever the sacred writer makes a statement as his own, that statement is the word of God and infallibly true, whatever be the subject-matter of the statement.

 (http://oce.catholic.com/index.php?title=Bible)

 

Notice the invocation of the infallibility clause; a fail-safe doctrine that explains every chink in the mortar of Catholicism. It's very reminiscent of my boyhood games of cowboys and Indians in which, quite frequently, a 'killed' adversary would jump up shooting, exclaiming he was "only pretending to be dead". Christians do a lot of pretending, especially when it comes to believing everything they're told is divine and inerrant. And when they can't explain the contradictions and inconsistencies they slip them into the old 'to be revealed in the future' file cabinet, and pretend they have found an explanation. As we have seen, the claim of infallibility excuses all moral, legal, and social obligations of those inspired by God. No matter how vile the person's character God may still use him. However, I find it unacceptable that a just god would allow wicked and profane men to use his divine oracles to suppress, dehumanize, and murder their fellowman as the Catholic Church did during the Dark and Middle Ages. In fact, it illustrates one of those Scriptural contradictions alluded to in Matthew 7:18—the one about a corrupt tree bearing good fruit. But let's see just how the 'divine' books were selected, and then you'll be able to better appreciate my conjecturing.