1

Abstract

In his extant letters and speeches, Emperor Constantine often referred to God. However, these references were seldom theological elaborations on the concept of God. Instead, they were usually limited to the use of certain ambiguous titles of God. Accordingly, this article examines thἷ ἷmpἷror’s concἷpt of ἕoἶ with thἷ hἷlp of thἷ so-called title-theology. Arguably, ἑonstantinἷ’s unἶἷrstanἶing of ἕoἶ ἶἷvἷlopἷἶ from inclusivἷ “pagan” henotheism to a qualified Christian monotheism, yet so that it retained the promise of accommodating various views of God. Vagueness in theological matters served the purpose of establishing the widest possible religious consensus in the Roman Empire. At the same time, this calculated vagueness also enabled different intἷrprἷtations of ἑonstantinἷ’s thἷological uttἷrancἷs anἶ perhaps contributed indirectly to the Trinitarian controversies within the Christian church. A comparison between ἑonstantinἷ’s concἷpts of ἕoἶ anἶ that of σicaἷa shows both a significant agreement and the existence of different underlying incentives.

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Tarmo Toom

Washington, DC, USA

CONSTANTINE’S SUMMUS DEUS AND THE NICENE

UNUS DEUS: IMPERIAL AGENDA AND

ECCLESIASTICAL CONVICTION

This article investigates the gradual metamorphosis of ἑonstantinἷ’s ἶoctrinἷ of ἕoἶ

primarily with the help of the so-called title-theology.1 It focuses on the diachronic development

of what Constantine called his God in some of his extant letters and speeches, and investigates

what these titles might have communicated in the religious context of the fourth century. The

rἷsulting picturἷ of thἷ ἷmpἷror’s ἕoἶ is thἷn assἷssἷἶ in thἷ light of thἷ thἷology of a

contἷmporanἷous synoἶal crἷἷἶ of σicaἷaέ It will bἷ arguἷἶ that ἑonstantinἷ’s ἶoctrinἷ of ἕoἶ

was “orthodox enough,”2 although the articulation of it retained a certain deliberate vagueness,

which suited the always expedient pontifex maximus of every religion and sect of his empire.3

Hermeneutically speaking, the extant speeches, letters, laws, inscriptions, as well as a

whole lot of material evidence, do not enable one to deduce anything definite about

ἑonstantinἷ’s rἷligious convictions anἶήor thἷ blἷssἷἶnἷss of his hἷartέ Whilἷ onἷ can gἷt to his

1 Titlἷs or “‘acclamatory ἷpithἷts’ became in the imperial period an important medium for the

conceptualization of divine presencἷ anἶ ἷfficacy” (Angelos Chaniotis, Megatheism: the Search for the Almighty

God and the Competition of Cults, in: One God: Pagan Monotheism in the Roman Empire, ed. S. Mitchell and P.

van Nuffelen, Cambridge 2010, 112-40, at 135). Hermann Dörries, Das Selbstzeugnis Kaiser Konstantins,

Abhandlungen der Akademie der Wissenschaften in Göttingen, Phil.-Hist. Klasse 34, ἕ ttingἷn 1954, 352-96. 2 Mark Edwards, The Constantinian Circle and the Oration to the Saints, in: Apologetics in the Roman

Empire, ed. M. Edwards et al., Oxford 1999, 251-75, at 261. 3 ἑonstantinἷ’s famous sἷlf-designation ὁ 厨πέjεκπκμ k蒼θ 厨εkσμ (Eusebius, VC 4.24, GCS, Eusebius Werke

1.1, ed. F. Winkelmann, Berlin 1975; trans. A. Cameron and S.G. Hall: Eusebius: Life of Constantine, Oxford 1999)

can bἷ takἷn in a sἷnsἷ that thἷ ἷmpἷror was “bishop for mattἷrs outsiἶἷ thἷ church,” incluἶing thἷ rἷligious affairs

of the empire.

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linguistic signa,4 his “internal psychological process . . . is undiscoverableέ”5 In other words,

what is accἷssiblἷ is thἷ ambiguous ἷviἶἷncἷ of ἑonstantinἷ’s graἶually morἷ prἷcisἷ

articulation of his concept of God in his extant writings,6 as wἷll as thἷ fact that ἑonstantinἷ’s

deeply complex and lifelong growth into Christianity culminated at his baptism in 337, leaving

little doubt about how he wanted to be perceived—as the first Christian Roman emperor.7

Constantine’s God according to his Letters and Speeches

Thἷ ἷviἶἷncἷ about ἑonstantinἷ’s ἷvolving unἶἷrstanding of God is both sketchy and

ambiguous, especially before 324. He was not raised as a Christian.8 When Constantine had to

rἷsponἶ to yἷt anothἷr ἔrankish raiἶ, hἷ sought hἷlp from onἷ of his fathἷr ἑonstantius’ prἷfἷrrἷἶ

gods, Apollo, whose temple was in Grand, Vosges. He had a vision of light. So, in 310, a

panegyrist suggἷstἷἶ that ἑonstantinἷ “saw (videre)” Apollo.9 On the other hand and by

appἷaling to ἑonstantinἷ’s own tἷstimony, Eusἷbius latἷr contἷnἶἷἶ that thἷ ἷmpἷror haἶ a

4 ἑonstantinἷ himsἷlf suggἷstἷἶ that worἶs by thἷmsἷlvἷs coulἶ bἷ insufficiἷntμ “ἔor what profit woulἶ

there be in words if the disposition of the spἷakἷr wἷrἷ lἷft unἷxaminἷἶς” (Or. 2, GCS, Eusebius Werke 1, ed. I.A.

Heikel, Leipzig 1902, trans. M. Edwards: Constantine and Christendom: The Oration to the Saints, The Greek and

Latin Accounts of the Discovery of the Cross, The Edict of Constantine to Pope Silvester, Translated Texts for

Historians 39, Liverpool 2003). 5 Timothy D. Barnes, Constantine: Dynasty, Religion and Power in the Late Roman Empire, Blackwell

Ancient Lives, London 2011, 80. For what the claim to be a Christian meant in the fourth century, see Edwards,

Constantine and Christendom, pp. x-xiv. 6 The process from thought to utterance or writing is a complicated matter involving communicative gaps

(Cicero, Inv. 2.42.122; 2.48.142, LCL 384, trans. E.W. Sutton and H. Rackham, Cambridge MA 1942; Quintilian,

Inst. 7.6.1, LCL 126, trans. D.A. Russell, Cambridge MA 2002). Thus again, even the information coming from

Emperor Constantine himself does not provide a direct, problem-free access to his heart and mind. As an emperor,

Constantine was capable of sprἷaἶing “official untruth” whenever it was convenient for advancing his political

agendas (Barnes, Constantine, pp. 2-6). 7 Origo Constantini Imperatoris 6.33, LCL 300, trans. J. C. Rolfe, Cambridge MA 1950. 8 Constantine, Or. 11. 9 Pan. 6.21.3-4, 22.1 in C.E.V. Nixon and Barbara S. Rodgers, In Praise of Later Roman Emperors: The

Panegyrici Latini: Introduction, Translation, and Historical Commentary, with the Latin Text of R.A.B. Mynors,

Berkeley 1994, English: 248-51, Latin: 583. It has to be reiterated, however, that laudatory speeches, which follow

particular conventions, arἷ vἷry poor inἶicators of rἷality as wἷll as of what an orator “rἷally” thought anἶ believed—and even poorer indicators of what emperors may have thought and believed.

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vision and a dream in which he saw Christ.10 Even if the vision was the same phenomenon with

different interpretations,11 the very existence of different interpretations allows one to surmise

that the vision/dream was granted to the troubled emperor by a deity whose identity was not so

readily apparent. Perhaps Eusebius and Lactantius,12 among other Christians, afterward

graciously helped the emperor to identify this generic deity13 and so, after 312, Constantine did

not object to the idea that the God he had seen was the Christian God.14

Thἷ problἷm with thἷ iἶἷntity of thἷ ἕoἶ in ἑonstantinἷ’s famous vision is prἷcisἷly that

the ex post facto Christian construal of the event comes from Eusebius15 and Lactantius in the

320s and in the light of Acts 26:13.16 Thus, once again, it is a real possibility that originally, the

identity of the God who appeared to Constantine was not entirely clear to the emperor himself. In

addition, we do not even know whether he was initially interested in making it very clear. In

time, however, Constantine’s growing attachmἷnt to thἷ ἑhristian ἕoἶ sἷἷmἷἶ to havἷ comἷ

closer to what the Christian and public versions of his vision had already stated about the God

manifἷstἷἶ in thἷ ἷmpἷror’s special vision.17

10 Eusebius, VC 1.28-32. 11 Peter Weiss, Vision of Constantine, JRA 16 (2003) 237-59. 12 Lactantius, mort. pers. 44, ed. and trans. J.L. Creed: De mortibus persecutorum, Oxford 1984. 13 Eusebius, VC 1.32.1-2 (cfέ 1έἀιέ1 “a goἶ”) anἶ a still latἷr but morἷ ἶἷtailἷἶ ἷlaboration in Soὐomἷn, HE

1.3, GCS, Historia ecclesiastica, ed. J. Bidez and G.C. Hansen, Berlin 1960, trans. NPNF 2.2. 14 See Eusebius, VC 4.9 and Mt 24:30; Weiss, Vision of Constantine, p. 252; Pedro Barceló, Constantins

Visionen: Zwischen Apollo und Christus, in: Konstantin und das Christentum, ed. H. Schlange-Schöningen,

Darmstadt 2007, 133-49. Barceló believes, however, that seeing Apollo and Christ were separate visions. 15 Eusἷbius’ Vita Constantini proviἶἷs “a powἷrful portrait of thἷ prototypical ἑhristian ἷmpἷror” (ώarold

A. Drake, What Eusebius Knew: The Genesis of the “Vita Constantini,” CPh 83/1 [Jan. 1988] 20-38, at 32; see

Eusebius, VC 1.11.2). In the hagiographical Laus Constantini 11.7, GCS, Eusebius Werke 1, ed. I.A. Heikel, Leipzig

1902; trans. H.A. Drake: In Praise of Constantine: A Historical Study and Translation of Eusebius’ Tricennial Orations, Berkeley 1975, Eusἷbius askἷἶ ἕoἶ, “I pray that I may bἷ thἷ kinἶ of intἷrprἷtἷr of your [iέἷέ, ἑonstantinἷ’s] intἷntions anἶ bἷcomἷ the reporter of your devout soul.” Unfortunately, we do not know whether this

prayer was ever answered or not. Constantine vowed to Eusebius, that he really saw a vision, but he did not vow that

the interpretation Eusebius provided was entirely accurate. 16 Curiously, Constantine never mentioned his private vision in his lengthy Oratio. 17 In his Constantine and the Bishops: The Politics of Intolerance, Baltimore 2000, 187-9, Drake analyzes

thἷ rἷtrospἷctivἷ naturἷ of onἷ’s intἷrprἷtation of hisήhἷr convἷrsion ἷxpἷriἷncἷέ ώostilἷ anciἷnt litἷrary sourcἷs push thἷ “momἷnt” of ἑonstantinἷ’s alleged conversion to much later in his life. In 369, Eutropius suggested that

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ἑonstantinἷ’s vision of light, a halo-phenomenon, also opened up the interpretative

possibility that it was the supreme Sun-god,18 Sol Invictus,19 whom he had seen and who had

become his protector.20As is well known, from 310 to about 325, the images of Sol Invictus

appeared on imperial coins next to the images of Constantine.21 However, imperial coins were

not bumper-stickers on which people pouring out their souls announced their deepest

convictions. Imperial coins conveyed official religious messages and they could in no way

ἑonstantinἷ “changἷἶ somἷwhat from his plἷasant milἶnἷss of spirit” anἶ ἷvἷntually haἶ his son ἑrispus anἶ wifἷ Fausta killed (Breviarium ab urbe condita 10.6.3, Bibliotheca Scriptorum Graecorum et Romanorum Teubneriana,

ed. C. Santini, Stuttgart 1979, trans. H.W. Bird: The breviarium ab urbe condita of Eutropius, Translated Texts for

Historians 14, Liverpool 1993). Accordingly, a sixth century historian Zosimus suggested that seeking forgiveness

for his crimἷs as wἷll as aἶvicἷ from philosophἷr Sopatἷr, ἑonstantinἷ, who “still practicἷἶ thἷ ancἷstral rἷligion,” turned to the Christian God only after these tragic events (Zosimus, Nea historia 2.29.1-4, Zosime Historie Nouvelle,

ed. F. Paschoud, Paris 1971, trans. R.T. Ridley: New History, Byzantiana Australiensia 1, Sydney 1982; cf. a semi-

extant ecclesiastical history of Philostorgius, 2.4b, GCS, Philostorgius Kirchengeschichte, ed. J. Bidez and F.

Winkelmann, Berlin 1972, trans. P.A. Amidon: Philostorgius: Church History, Writings from the Greco-Roman

World, Atlanta, 2007, and Sozomen, HE. 1.5, GCS, who dismisses this explanation). In Constantine and

Christianity: Ancient Evidence and Modern Interpretations, ZACh 2 [1998] 274-94, at 276, ἐarnἷs assἷssἷs, “χny writer about Constantine is constantly compelled to assess the relative value of different sources and evaluate

contradictory statements in partisan authorsέ” 18 χpparἷntly, it was a common unἶἷrstanἶing that “Sol was in somἷ sἷnse the supreme deity who

subsumed all others—a form of quasi-monothἷism” (χέ Doug δἷἷ, Traditional Religions, in: The Cambridge

Companion to the Age of Constantine, 159-79, at 162). Cicero perceived a link between Sol and solus (Nat. d. 2.27,

LCL 268, trans. H. Rackham, Cambridge MA 1933), but this does not necessarily mean that the existence of other

lower gods was thereby denied. 19 Emperor Aurelian had attributed his eastern victories to the assistance of Sol Invictus and erected a

temple in this goἶ’s honor in Rome in 270s (Stephan Berrens, Sonnenkult und Kaisertum von den Severern bis zu

Constantin I [193-337 n. Chr.], Historia 185, Stuttgart 2004, 89-97). 20 Jonathan Bardill, Constantine, Divine Emperor of the Christian Golden Age, Cambridge 2012, 28a-63b,

100b-104b. “Diἷ Vision war das Mittel, die in Frage kommende Schutzgottheit zu finἶἷn” (Barceló, Constantins

Visionen, p. 133). 21 Berrens, Sonnenkult und Kaisertum , pp. 150-62. “Thἷ most significant factor in guiἶing thἷ choicἷ anἶ

description of divinities on coins . . . seems to have been the relationship of the god in question to the emperor or the

ἷmpirἷ” (Jonathan Williams, Religion and Roman Coins, in: A Companion to Roman Religion, ed. J. Rüpke, London

2007, 143-63, at 156).

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determine whether the depicted God was understood as the sun in the sky or a verus sol.22

Nevertheless, there was a lucratively convenient conceptual overlap between the Sun-god and

Christ, whom Scripture described with several sun-metaphors.23 In his letters, Constantine often

employed the polysemous sun-analogy to refer to God24 and in 321, he established Sun-day as

the day of rest, which also happened to celebrate the resurrection of Christ.

Now, what is the eviἶἷncἷ concἷrning ἑonstantinἷ’s “doctrine of God (kὸ kκῦ γiκῦ

hσΰηα)” in his letters and speeches?25 The language about God that Constantine used in his

correspondence to Miltiades, Chrestus, Caecilian, and Anullinus in 310s, was not that different

from thἷ official languagἷ of δicinius’ lἷttἷr of ἁ1ἁ (ἷrronἷously ἶubbἷἶ as thἷ “Eἶict of

εilan”26). Constantine operated with flἷxiblἷ ἶἷsignations, such as “divine Providence (ἡ γiέα

Πλσθκδα),” “the divinity of the great God (ἡ γiδσkβμ kκῦ ηiΰΪζκυ γiκῦ),” “heavenly power (ἡ

厨πκυλΪθδκμ hτθαηδμ),” “Almighty God (ὁ Θiὸμ παθkκελΪkπλ),” as wἷll as “deity (ἡ γiδσkβμ)έ”27

Unfortunatἷly, thἷsἷ ἶἷsignations nἷithἷr say anything particular about ἑonstantinἷ’s concἷpt of

God, nor are they exclusively Christian vocabulary.28

χn ἷxcἷption is ἑonstantinἷ’s lἷttἷr to catholic bishops after the Council of Arles in

314.29 This letter stands out because it is the first time that Constantine mentions Christ in his

22 χmbrosἷ’s hymn Splendor Paternae gloriae calls Jἷsus ἑhrist “the true sun (verus[que] sol)” (Arthur S.

Warpole, Early Latin Hymns, Cambridge 1922, 36). 23 E.g., Is 60:20; Mal 4:2; Mt 17:2; and Rev 10:1. Tertullian testifies to the fact that many ignorant people

took the Christian God to be the Sun (nat. 1.13, CCSL 1, ed. J.W.P. Borleffs, et al., Turnhout 1954, trans. ANCL

11). See Robert Markus, The End of Ancient Christianity, Cambridge 1990, 103-6. 24 E.g., Eusebius, VC 2.71.4; Optatus, c. Don. App. 5, CSEL 26, ed. C. Ziwsa, Vienna 1893, trans. M.

Edwards: Optatus Against Donatitsts, Translated Texts for Historians 27, Liverpool 1997. 25 Constantine, Or. 11. 26 Otto Seeck, Das sogenannte Edikt von Mainland, ZKG 10 (1891) 381-6; Barnes, Constantine, pp. 93-7. 27 ἑonstantinἷ’s lἷtters in Eusebius, HE 10.5-7, GCS, Eusebius Werke 2.2, ed. e. Schwartz and T.

Mommsen, Berlin 1999, trans. NPNF 2.1. 28 χ “pagan” grammarian εaximus of εaἶaura contἷnἶἷἶ that “ἕoἶ is thἷ namἷ common to all rἷligions

(Nam Deus omnibus religionibus commune nomen est)” (χugustinἷ, ep. 16.1, CSEL 34.1, ed. A. Goldbacher,

Vienna 1895, trans. R. Teske: WSA II/1, New York 2001). 29 Optatus, c. Don. App. 5, in Jean-Louis Maier, Le Dossier du Donatisme, vol. 1, Texte und

Untersuchungen 134, Berlin 1987, 167-71. See Constantinἷ’s lἷttἷr to Eusἷbius in VC 4.35.1, which was written late

in thἷ ἷmpἷror’s lifἷέ

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lἷttἷrs (“Christ Savior [Christus salvator],” “mercy of Christ [clementia Christi],” “judgment of

Christ [iudicium Christi],” anἶ “ἑhrist’s tἷaching [Christi magisterium]”). These designations

appἷar nἷxt to thἷ usual onἷsμ “Almighty God (Deus omnipotens),” “the supernatural power

(superna potentia),” anἶ “divinity (diuinitas)έ”30 In fact, it is difficult to explain this anomalous

suἶἶἷn appἷarancἷ of thἷ namἷ “ἑhrist” in a letter written by Constantine—unless his public

preference of Christianity is taken to justify it satisfactorily. If this letter is authentic, was the

upstart emperor trying to please his episcopal readership?31 Yet about ten years later,

ἑonstantinἷ’s lἷttἷr to bishop χlἷxanἶἷr anἶ his ἶἷacon χrius nἷvἷr mἷntioned the name

“Christέ” Thus, were some Christian co-authors (or, speechwriters,32 advisors, and editors)

involved in the composition of this letter? We just don’t know for surἷέ Was thἷ namἷ “ἑhrist”

interpolated later? The critical text does not indicate this.33 Thus, it seems that the sudden,

multiplἷ occurrἷncἷ of thἷ namἷ “ἑhrist” in a letter written by Constantine testifies to the

ἷmpἷror’s knowlἷἶgἷ of Christianity, but again, it does not necessarily say anything definite

about his own religious convictions or his doctrine of God.34

30 ἑonstantinἷ’s othἷr lἷttἷrs concἷrning Donatist mattἷrs likἷwisἷ ἷmploy titlἷs, such as “hἷavἷnly ἶivinity

(divinitas caelestis),” “thἷ highἷst ἶivinityήthἷ suprἷme God (summa diuinitas/summus deus),” anἶ “χlmighty ἕoἶ (deus omnipotens)” (τptatus, c. Don. App. 5-7, 9-10).

31 ἑonstantinἷ’s past in thἷ court of a pἷrsἷcutor Dioclἷtian may havἷ proviἶἷἶ thἷ ἷmpἷror a motivἷ for appearing particularly Christianity-friendly in his communication with several influential bishops.

32 Eusebius contends that Constantine did not use speechwriters and at times, this may well have been so

(VC 4.29.1). 33 CSEL 26, pp. 208-10.

34 According to Eusebius, already early on, Constantine took “thἷ priἷsts of ἕoἶ as his aἶvisἷrs” (VC

1.32.3). See Werner Eck, Eine historische Zeitenwende: Kaiser Constantins Hinwendung zum Christentum und die

gallischen Bischöfe, in: Konstantin der Große—Kaiser einer Epochenwende, ed. F. Schuller and H. Wolff,

Lindenberg 2007, 69-84. Most importantly, Lactantius allegedly read his Institutes at the court of Constantine in

Trier (Elisabeth DePalma-Digeser, The Making of a Christian Empire: Lactantius & Rome, Ithaca 2000, 13). Yet,

onἷ’s knowlἷἶgἷ about a rἷligion ἶoἷs not makἷ himήhἷr a followἷr of this rἷligion anἶ vicἷ vἷrsa, onἷ’s ignorancἷ of a religion does not prevent him/her from being a follower of a given religion. Unfortunately, this distinction is

missing in Charlἷs εέ τἶhal’s Constantine’s Epistle to the Bishops at the Council of Arles: A Defence of Imperial

Authorship, JRH 17/3 (1993) 274-89.

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Right after his victory over Licinius, ἑonstantinἷ lἷarnἷἶ about thἷ “divisive quarrels

with divine doctrines as an excusἷ” between bishop Alexander and presbyter Arius.35 So, in 324,

the emperor sent Ossius of Córdova to Alexandria,36 bearing a stern letter of warning to the

above named bickering theologians.37 The fuss had started with a disagreement over a scriptural

passage.38 What seems to have concerned the emperor, however, was not so much exegetically

based doctrinal orthodoxy, but rathἷr thἷ fact that “fellowship was repudiated, and the most holy

people was divided in two and forsook the concord of the common bodyέ”39 For Constantine, it

was thἷ rἷsulting schism that was an “intolerable madnessέ”40 The emperor rhetorically

diminished the exegetical/doctrinal nuances—even as these concerned the central doctrine of

God—to “extremely trivial [matters],” “some futile point[s] of dispute,” anἶ “verbal quarrelsέ”41

The religious well-being of the empire just did not need to be disturbed by the controversial

theoretical minutiae that Alexander and Arius were fighting about. Theological differences

should be peacefully tolerated, especially in matters which were way above human reason

35 Eusebius, VC 2.61.4. 36 Athanasius, Apol. c. Ar . 74, Athanasius Werke 2.1, ed. H.G. Opitz, Berlin 1936, trans. NPNF 2.4;

Socrates, HE 1.7, GCS, Sokrates Kirchengeschichte, ed. G.C. Hansen, Berlin 1995, trans. NPNF 2.2. 37 Eusebius, VC 2.63-73; Sozomen, HE 1.16. 38 Eusebius, VC 2.69.1, 2.70. Most likely, it was Prov 8:22-5, a text which, according to Epiphanius,

sparked the fourth century Trinitarian controversy (Pan. 69.12.1, GCS, Panarion haeresiarum, ed. K. Holl and J.

Dummer, Berlin 1915-85, trans. F. Williams: The Panarion of Epiphanius of Salamis, Leiden 1987-94). Hilary

callἷἶ Prov κμἀἀ “thἷ most powἷrful wavἷ of thἷir [iέἷέ, ώomoἷan] storm” (Trin. 12.1, CSEL 22, ed. A. Zingerle,

Vienna 1891, trans. S. McKenna: FC 25, Washington D.C. 1954) and ἐasil of ἑaἷsarἷa saiἶ that Eunomians “havἷ recourse to the text of Solomon [i.e., Prov. 8:22] and from it, as if from a base of military operations, they launch an

assault on thἷ faith” (cέ Eun. 2.20, SC 305, ed. de B. de Sesboüé, Paris 1982-3, trans: M. DelCogliano and A. Radde-

Gallwitz: FC 122, Washington D.C. 2011). 39 Eusebius, VC 2.69.1; cf. 1.44-45; 3.60.6; 4.42.1. 40 Eusebius, VC 2.66. 41 Eusebius, VC 2.68.2, 69.1, 71.3. Emperor Constantine also suggested that the precise details of the

controversy were even not worth knowing—“this vἷry silly quἷstion, whatἷvἷr it actually is” (ἀέι1έθ)έ Eusἷbius, in turn, haἶ his own gooἶ rἷasons for highlighting ἑonstantinἷ’s apparἷnt ἶismissivἷ nἷutrality, although thἷ ἷmpἷror’s consequent actions indicated that perhaps he had already turned against Arius (Thomas G. Elliott, Constantine’s Preparations for the Council of Nicaea, JRH 17/2 [December 1992] 127-37). After all, one of Arius’ most important supportἷrs, Eusἷbius of σicomἷἶia, haἶ bἷἷn a prominἷnt figurἷ in thἷ court of ἑonstantinἷ’s rival δiciniusέ Evidently this mattered.

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anyhow (i.e., the question of the Trinity). “We must . . . avoid being talkative in such mattersέ”42

To make the long story short, Constantine reasoned that the public religion of empire needed to

be cohesive and inclusive—specifics were of secondary importance!

Constantine set an example in this very letter. The designations that he used to speak

about God were acceptable for Alexander, Arius, and whoever else happened to read the imperial

correspondence: for examplἷ, “God (ὁ γiσμ),” “Savior (ὁ Σπkάλ),” “the Divinity (kσ γiῖκθ),”

“the Supreme (kσ ελiῖkkκθ),”43 anἶ “the divine Providence (ἡ γiέα Πλσθκδα)έ”44 As a public

letter—even though addressed to Christians—, it did not include any speculative discussions

about the divine nature or birth, and never mentioned Jesus Christ and/or the Holy Spirit. In fact,

Constantinἷ ἷxprἷssἷs “no theological opinion about the matter other than that the controversial

issue is no problemέ”45

However, despite his cautious statesman-like rἷstraint, thἷ ἷmpἷror, who was “brἷak[ing]

ἶown in tἷars” because of the controversy between Alexander and Arius,46 soon faced the

challenge of being more specific about what hἷ ἷxactly mἷant by “ἕoἶ” or “Deityέ”47

A glimpse of the shape which thἷ ἷmpἷror’s unἶἷrstanἶing of ἕoἶ was stἷaἶily taking

can be seen from his letter to eastern provinces about imperial policies, sent in 324.48 Again,

Constantine made his case by ἷmploying thἷ ἶἷsignations “God (ὁ Θiσμ),” “the Savior God (ὁ

jπkάλ Θiσμ),” “the Master/Lord of the Universe, Holy God (ὁ hijπσkβμ k蒼θ ὅζπθ, ἅΰδκμ

42 Eusebius, VC 2.69.3. 43 See Dörries, Das Selbstzeugnis Kaiser Konstantins, p. 353, n. 1. 44 ἑonstantinἷ’s letter to the provincials of Palestine (Eusebius, VC 2.24-42; papyrus P. Lond. 878), which

was his first communication with thἷ ἷastἷrn provincἷs, likἷwisἷ usἷs broaἶ ἶἷsignations, such as “thἷ grἷat ἕoἶ (ὁ ηiΰΪζκμ Θiσμ),” “thἷ Divinity (kσ Θiῖκθ),” “thἷ Supreme (kσ ελiῖkkκθ),” “thἷ grἷatἷst ἕoἶ (ὁ ηΫΰδjkκμ Θiσμ),” anἶ “χlmighty ἕoἶ (ὁ πΪθkα hυθαkσμ γiσμ)έ”

45 Øyvind Norderval, The Emperor Constantine and Arius: Unity in the Church and Unity in the Empire,

StTh 42 (1988) 113-50, at 121. 46 Eusebius, VC 2.72.1. Among other reasons, such almost ridiculous emotionality has raised the issue of

authenticity of this letter (Pierre Batiffol, La paix constantinienne et le catholicisme, 3d ed., Paris 1914, 315-20). 47 If Raymond Van Dam (The Roman Revolution of Constantine, Cambridge 2007, 248-51) is right about

the tight link between the notions of one God and one emperor, then Constantine may indeed have had vested

interests in articulating more precisely his concept of God than he otherwise would have. 48 Eusebius, VC 2.47-61.

10

Θiσμ),” “the Supreme God (ὁ ηΫΰδjkκμ Θiσμ),” anἶ “the Most High God (ὁ 西οδjkκμ γiσμ)έ”

Perhaps most importantly, Apollo was rhetorically “impἷachἷἶ” anἶ “your Son (ὁ jκῦ υ頗κμ)”

(i.e., Jesus Christ) “inauguratedέ”49 No doubt, Constantine was signaling his wish to come across

as a bἷliἷvἷr in thἷ ἑhristian ἕoἶέ Thἷ ἷmpἷror’s partisan rhἷtoric was abunἶantly supportἷἶ by

his pro-Christianity legislation, extensive church-building projects, and lavish donations to

Christian causes.50

χ notἷworthy ἶἷtail for thἷ currἷnt invἷstigation is ἑonstantinἷ’s incrἷasing use of a

scriptural titlἷ “the Most High God (ὁ 西οδjkκμ γiσμ/Deus Summus)έ”51 This title offered

particular promise for advancing a broaἶ, rἷlativἷly nἷutral, “ἷcumἷnical” monotheism in the

whole empire and thus to satisfy the religious tastes of many.52 Such unspecified monotheism

supposedly suited most imperial citizens—adherents of the cults of Theos Hypsistos and Sol

Invictus, ώἷrmἷtists, “pagan” henotheists,53 as well as Jewish and Christian monotheists. In other

words, the marvἷlously ἷlastic ἶἷsignation “εost ώigh ἕoἶ” ἷnablἷἶ ἑonstantinἷ “to tolerate

49 Even panegyrists dropped the name of Apollo and other gods in their speeches after 312 and referred

only to supreme deity (summus) and divine force (vis) or mind (mens) (Pan. 12.26.1). 50 Yet again, imperial policies should not be mistaken for anyonἷ’s personal beliefs (H.A. Drake, Policy

and Belief in Constantine’s “Oration to the Saints,” StPatr 19 [1989] 43-51). 51 E.g., Gen 14:18; Num 24:16; Mic 6:6; Mk 5:7; Lk 1:32-5, 2:14; Acts 16:17. 52 Thἷ moἶἷrn tἷrm “monothἷism” can bἷ ἶἷfinἷἶ in various ways, inclusively and exclusively (Peter van

Nuffelen, Pagan Monotheism as a Religious Phenomenon, in: One God, 16-33, at 17-21). For example, the

primarily eastern cult of Theos Hypsistos, which existed from the Hellenistic times to the fifth century, elevated the

supreme god above other prominent gods, and at other times, identified it with other highest gods, such as Zeus,

Nemesis, and Helios (Stephen Mitchell, The Cult of Theos Hypsistos between Pagans, Jews, and Christians, in:

Pagan Monotheism in Late Antiquity, ed. P. Athanassiadi and M. Frede, Oxford 1999, 81-148). Nicole Belayche,

too, has demonstrated that the designation Theos Hypsistos can mἷan a goἶ “ἷxclusivἷ of all fἷllow-ἶἷitiἷs” as wἷll as a “top-goἶ” which is primus inter pares (Hypsistos: A Way of exalting the Gods in Graeco-Roman Polytheism, in:

The Religious History of the Roman Empire: Pagans, Jews, Christians, ed. J.A. North and S.R.F. Price, Oxford

Readings in Classical Studies, Oxford 2011, 139-74 [original: ARg 7 (2005) 219-32]). 53 In their apophatic elevation of the one Most High God, devotees employed a Latin triple superlative

exsuperantissimus for Jupiter, or the Greek παθτοδjkκμ for Zeus. Various designations, which included the word

西οδjkκμ, were also used in connection with Poseidon and Isis (Belayche, Hypsistos, pp. 142-3). Nectarius, a pagan

official in σumiἶia, glaἶly accἷptἷἶ χugustinἷ’s aἶmonition to turn to thἷ worship of thἷ εost ώigh ἕoἶ (ad

exsuperantissimi Dei cultum) (ep. 103.2).

11

many religions in his Empire while he aimed at the final victory of oneέ”54 ἑonstantinἷ’s allἷgἷἶ

filling thἷ ἶἷsignation “εost ώigh ἕoἶ” with a particular, personally preferred religious content

did not thereby ban other interpretations.55 Just like the chi-rho sign had a wonderfully open

double meaning—one for Christians, another for “pagans”56—so could the God-vocabulary be

usἷἶ to ἶἷnotἷ various thingsέ τfficially, ἑonstantinἷ’s faith as thἷ faith of thἷ first man of thἷ

empire just had to be some sort of “anonymous anἶ ‘catch-all’ monotheism,”57 which lacked too

specific dogmatic content, but which all enlightened minds of different persuasions could easily

affirm.58

ἐy far thἷ bἷst ἷviἶἷncἷ for ἑonstantinἷ’s ἶἷvἷloping unἶἷrstanἶing of ἕoἶ is his Oratio

ad sanctorum coetum,59 a speech which was delivered immediately before the Council of

Nicaea.60 This two-hour-or-so spἷἷch was givἷn in a “Roman tonguἷ” and then translated into

54 M. Edwards, Pagan and Christian Monotheism in the Age of Constantine, in: Approaching Late

Antiquity, 211-32, at 211. 55S. Mitchell (Further Thoughts on the Cult of Theos Hypsistos, in: One God, 167-208, at 168) argues that

Theos Hypsistos was an abstract and nameless god whose worshippers “rἷtainἷἶ a common unἶἷrlying concἷpt of a spἷcific ἶivinἷ pἷrsonality bἷhinἶ this appἷllationέ” Sἷἷ ἑἷlsus’ ἶἷfἷnsἷ of polynomy in τrigἷn, c. Cels. 5.41,

Origenis contra Celsum libri VIII, ed. M. Marcovich, Leiden 2001, trans. H. Chadwick: Origen Contra Celsum,

Cambridge 1965. 56 Robin L. Fox, Pagans and Christians, New York 1987, 616; Bardill, Constantine, pp. 220a-222b. 57 Paul Veyne, When Our World Became Christian 312-394, trans. J. Lloyd, Cambridge 2010, 7. 58 The generic prayer which Constantine provided for his soldiers to be said every Sunday suited persons of

any rἷligious pἷrsuasionμ “You alonἷ wἷ know as ἕoἶ, You arἷ thἷ King wἷ acknowlἷἶgἷ, You arἷ thἷ ώἷlp wἷ summon έ έ έ” (Eusἷbius, VC 4.20.1). This can be compared to a public prayer that Licinius’ army rἷcitἷἶ bἷforἷ thἷ ἶἷcisivἷ battlἷ with εaximinus in ἁ1ἁέ It startἷἶ with thἷ worἶs “τ ἕoἶ most high, wἷ pray to you,” anἶ ἷnἶἷἶ with “ώἷar us, τ holy anἶ most high ἕoἶ [hἷrἷ arguably Jupitἷr]” (δactantius, mort. pers. 46.1-7).

59 The Oratio is the only theological speech of Constantine which is extant (cf. Eusebius, VC 4.29-32). 60 χlthough argumἷnts rathἷr than scholarly “bolshἷvism” shoulἶ ἶἷciἶἷ thἷ mattἷr, thἷ majority of

scholars seem to date it to 324/5. See the charted overview in Klaus M. Giradet, Der Kaiser und sein Gott: Das

Christentum im Denken und in der Religionspolitik Konstantins des Grossen, Millenium-Studien 27, Berlin 2010,

108-23, who himself argues for an earlier date and for the city of Trier, mostly because of the heavy presence of

δactantius’ iἶἷas in ἑonstantinἷ’s Oratioέ ἔor parallἷls bἷtwἷἷn δactantius’ works anἶ ἑonstantinἷ’s Oratio, see the

notes in GCS, Eusebius Werke 1; for the similarity of the respective concepts of God, Daniel de Decker, Le

Discours à l’χssambléἷ des Saints attribué à Constantin et l’oeuvre de Lactance, in: Lactance et son temps, ed. J.

Fontaine and M. Perrin, Théologie Historique 48, Paris 1978, 75-87; and the understanding of both men vis-à-vis

Hermetism, DePalma-Digeser, The Making of a Christian Empire, pp. 68-78 and 136.

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Greek.61 Thus, for the lack of a better alternative, the words of the Oratio are taken here as

ἑonstantinἷ’s own worἶs in a sufficiἷntly aἶἷquatἷ translationέ ώopἷfully it is still possiblἷ to

gἷt a fairly gooἶ sἷnsἷ of “what got saidέ”62

Thἷ ovἷrall goal of ἑonstantinἷ’s Oratio was to show that the emperor was all about

fostering the gooἶwill of thἷ Suprἷmἷ ἕoἶ, who was ἶἷpictἷἶ as ἑonstantinἷ’s illuminator anἶ

protector,63 and consequently peace on earth and unity in the church. These topics fitted well

under the main theme of his speech—providence.64 Previously, Constantine had used the word

“proviἶἷncἷ” simply as one of the names for his God, but in his Oratio, Providence is depicted

hypostatically65 and is somehow included within the Godhead.66

Already in the opening paragraphs of his Oratio, and much like in his letter of 314 to

catholic bishops, the emperor leaves no doubt that, while speaking about the Supreme God, he is

speaking about the Christian God.67 σἷxt to thἷ gἷnἷric worἶ “God (ὁ Θiσμ)” and the equally

gἷnἷric aἶjἷctivἷ “divine (γiῖκθ),” hἷ ἷmploys namἷs such as “Savior (ὁ jπkάλ),” “Father God

(ὁ παkάλ Θiσμ),” “Christ (Χλδjkσμ),”68 “the divine Word (ὁ γiῖκμ ζσΰκμ),” “Son/child (ὁ παῖμ),”

61 Eusebius, VC 4.32. 62 I refer to the Stoic concept of lekton and χugustinἷ’s concept of dicibile. 63 By implication, anyone who dared to be against Constantine was also and inevitably against his divine

“unconquἷrablἷ ally” (ἑonstantine, Or. 24-6). 64 H.A. Drake, The Impact of Constantine on Christianity, in: The Cambridge Companion to the Age of

Constantine, pp. 111-36. 65 Constantine, Orέ ἁ anἶ ἀηέ τnἷ of thἷ possiblἷ sourcἷs of ἑonstantinἷ’s iἶἷas, ἑalciἶius, mἷntions thἷ

Highἷst ἕoἶ aftἷr whom comἷs Proviἶἷncἷ, an “intἷlligiblἷ ἷssἷncἷ,” which is iἶἷntifiἷἶ with thἷ θκῦμ (On Fate

176 in Jan den Boeft, Calcidius on Fate: His Doctrine and Sources, Philosophia Antiqua 18, Leiden 1970, 85). 66 It is difficult to figure out exactly what status Constantine ascribes to Providence. In Or. 8, he

ἷmphasiὐἷs thἷ unity of onἷ ἕoἶ by saying that “rἷason anἶ proviἶἷncἷ arἷ ἕoἶ (kσθ hὲ ζσΰκθ εαὶ kάθ πλσθκδαθ i寸θαδ γiσθ),” but it is not clἷar whἷthἷr any ἶistinction is intἷnἶἷἶ bἷtwἷἷn thἷ Word and Providence or not. In Or.

17, Constantine speaks of the providence of Christ, and in Orέ 11, whἷrἷ ἑonstantinἷ givἷs thanks to “ἑhrist our ἕoἶ anἶ Savior, thἷ suprἷmἷ proviἶἷncἷ of thἷ grἷat ἕoἶ,” thἷ ἷpἷxἷgἷtical usagἷ suggἷsts that ἑhrist is iἶentified

with Providence. See Dörries, Das Selbstzeugnis Kaiser Konstantins, p. 355. 67 In addition, ἑonstantinἷ pointἷἶ out rathἷr confiἶἷntly that “I havἷ rἷhἷarsἷἶ έ έ έ thἷ ἶoctrinἷ of ἕoἶ έ έ έ

not ignorantly, likἷ many, nor from conjἷcturἷ or guἷssing” (Or. 11). Rhetorically, he excuses himself from any

possiblἷ blunἶἷrs by saying that, sincἷ hἷ is “not looking for ἷxactituἶἷ of lἷarning,” his auἶiἷncἷ shoulἶ apprἷciatἷ at lἷast “thἷ faithfulnἷss of [his] attἷmpt” (Or. 2).

68 Later, in Or. 15 and 18, also “Jἷsusέ”

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anἶ “the Holy Spirit (kὸ ἅΰδκθ πθiῦηα)έ”69 Somἷhow ἕoἶ’s Son, thἷ bἷgottἷn onἷ, sharἷs in

ἕoἶ’s ἷssἷncἷ (κ盛jέα γiκῦ),70 somehow the Father and the Son are the Creator God, 71 and

somehow the Holy Spirit is divine and eternal as well.72

One should note that, in the spirit of his letter to Alexander and Arius, Constantine does

not take sides in the rapidly spreading Alexandrian controversy,73 but reminds his Christian

audience74 that inquiries into that which is abovἷ human naturἷ lἷaἶs “most of us away from thἷ

truth”—and even to the destruction of those who know better, but differ from the opinion which

happens to be accepted.75 Perhaps this is an imperial warning (among others, to Eusebius of

Nicomedia!76) that “foolish thoughts” about what is bἷyonἶ human comprἷhἷnsion—the essence

of God—are pointless and may have many tragic consequences.77 Yet, the emperor goes against

69 Constantine, Or. 1-9. In Chapters 23-5 and somewhat unexpectedly, Constantine switches exclusively to

the all-purposἷ ἶἷsignation “ἶivinἷ (γiῖκθ)έ” 70 Constantine, Or. 6. 71 In Orέ 1, ἑonstantinἷ calls ἕoἶ “all-mothering nature (παηηάkiδλα φτjδμ)”ν in Orέ ἁ, “origin of all (k蒼θ

πΪθkπθ 刃λξά)” anἶ “thἷ εakἷr (ὁ hβηδκυλΰσμ)έ” In his lἷttἷr to σicomἷἶians, howἷvἷr, thἷ ἷmpἷror says thἷ samἷ about ἑhristμ “ἐut ἑhrist, thἷ Son of ἕoἶ, thἷ crἷator of all (刃ζζὰ ΰὰλ ὁ kκῦ γiκῦ υ頗ὸμ Χλδjkὸμ ὁ k蒼θ 塵πΪθkπθ hβηδκυλΰσμ)” (τpitὐ, Urk. 27.2). Here is an important ἶiffἷrἷncἷ bἷtwἷἷn ἑonstantinἷ’s thἷology and that of his

alleged sources. Numenius thinks that while the first, supreme God is inactive, the second god is the creator god and

is also distinct in its κ盛jέα (Frg. 11, 12, 15, 16, and 21 [Des Places]). See John M. Dillon, The Middle Platonists, 80

B.C. to A.D. 220, Ithaca 1977, 367-9 and Marian Hillar, From Logos to Trinity: The Evolution of Religious Beliefs

from Pythagoras to Tertullian, Cambridge 2012, 183-9. 72 Constantine, Or. 9. 73 Edwards, The Constantinian Circle and the Oration to the Saints, p. 260. 74 Arguably, the Oratio was delivered to Eusebius of Nicomedia, his clergy, congregation, and candidates

for baptism (T.D. Barnes, Constantine’s Speech to the Assembly of the Saints: Place and Date of Delivery, JTS 52/1

[2001] 26-36, at 34). 75 In Or. 9, Constantine mentions the examples of Socrates and Pythagoras. 76 Eusebius of Nicomedia was about to give the welcoming address at the council of Nicaea (Eusebius, VC

3.11, a text which actually says simply “Eusἷbius”ν cfέ Soὐomἷn, HE 1.19: Eusebius of Caesarea; Theodoret, HE

1.6, GCS, Theodoret Kirchengeschichte, ed. Parmentier and G.C. Hansen, Berlin 1998, trans. NPNF 2.3: Eusthatius

of Antioch), soon after which he was exiled, chastised in a harsh letter by Constantine (Theodoret, HE 1.20[19]),

then readmitted to the church. Finally, after he was made the bishop of Constantinople, he baptized Constantine

(Chron. Pasch. 337, CSBH 16-17, ed. L. Dindorf, Bonn 1832, trans. M. Whitby and M. Whitby: Chronicon

Paschale 284-628AD, Translated Texts for Historians 7, Liverpool 1990). 77 Constantine, Or. 11.

14

his own advice in Or. 9-11, where he takes a shot at that which is prἷcisἷly “beyond human

comprehensionέ”

So, in the Oratio, Constantine presents his doctrine of God with the help of the master of

understanding the intelligible “things”—Plato. Precisely to what extent Constantine agreed with

Plato about God is far from clear though.78 He certainly appreciated what Plato said about the

highest, transcendent God, but also regretted the fact that thἷ philosophἷr introἶucἷἶ “a host of

gods,” thereby threatening to compromise the original and uniquἷ status of thἷ “εost ώigh”

God.79

This brings up an intriguing question of Constantinἷ’s takἷ on hἷnothἷism—a view which

was popular among the philosophically enlightened non-Christians.80 For imperial purposes of

securing concord between various religions, there was definitely a sufficient common ground

between Christian monotheism and non-Christian henotheism. Perhaps, for Constantine,

hἷnothἷists wἷrἷ sort of “anonymous ἑhristian monothἷists” (to toy with Rahnἷr’s phrasἷ),

especially because his own religious journἷy haἶ takἷn him from highἷst “pagan” gods to the one

Christian God.81 Yet again, what exactly did Constantine mean by the henotheism of the Most

High God?

Unfortunately, he does not explain with sufficient clarity whether the use of designations

“Most ώigh” anἶ “Suprἷmἷ” excludes the existence of inferior gods, or whether these

designations simply function as adjectives for the highest God among other gods. Both

78 What is clear is that in Or. 11 and 16, Constantine elaborates on the incarnation of Christ, on something

which is intrinsic to the Christian concept of God the Trinity, but which cannot be found in Platonic understanding

of God. 79 Jeremy M. Schott (Christianity, Empire, and the Making of Religion in Late Antiquity, Divinations:

Rereading Late Ancient Religion, et D. Boyarin et al., Philadelphia 2008, 114-22) has advanced an argument that, in

his Oratio, ἑonstantinἷ arguἷἶ apologἷtically for thἷ ancἷstral “Ur-Monothἷism” vis-à-vis the later perversions of it

in various native traditions. 80 Thἷ worἶ “hἷnothἷism” was first usἷἶ by εax εüllἷr in his Lectures on the Origin and Growth of

Religion, 3d ed., London 1898, and it denotes either personal veneration of one god, or belief in one, highest God

among othἷr infἷrior goἶs, which was hἷlἶ by philosophἷrs anἶ founἶ in various “pagan” cults, such as that of Theos

Hypsistos. 81 Bardill, Constantine, p. 282a.

15

alternatives can be found in Scripture.82 Therefore and as stated above, depending on the context

of a particular religious thought-system, broaἶ ἶἷsignations, such as “the Highest God,” could

have various meanings.83 Yet, by juxtaposing the Platonic Supreme God or, “the Supreme Father

(ὁ ηΫΰδjkκμ παkάλ),”84 to thἷ multiplἷ “pagan” gods, Constantine suggests that intelligent

persons could do without the latter. Since the Supreme God creates everything as well as directs

thἷ coursἷ of its crἷation “there is no conceptual space left for any other god or other gods

besides himέ”85 Consequently, it looks like Constantine came to prefer a view of henotheism

which excluded the existence of other gods. 86 In other words, it seems that the emperor

82 Eέgέ, Dἷut ἁἀμἁλ, “I am ἕoἶ anἶ thἷrἷ is no ἕoἶ bἷsiἶἷs mἷ,” anἶ Ex 1κμ11, “σow I know that thἷ δorἶ

is grἷatἷr than all goἶsέ” Polymnia Athanassiadi (Gods are God: Polythesitic Cult and Monotheistic Theology in the

World of Late Antiquity, in: Gott oder Götter? God or Gods?, ed. T. Schabert and M. Riedl, Eranos 15, Würzburg

2009, 15-31) has cautioned that, for late antiquity and apart from Jewish-Christian tradition, monotheism/polytheism

is altogether a false antithesis.

83 ἔor rἷmarks about thἷ ambiguous i世μ γiσμ, see Eusebius, praep. Ev. 4.5, GCS, Eusebius Werke 8, ed. K.

Mras, Berlin 1982, trans. E.H. Gifford: Preparation for the Gospel: Eusebius, Grand Rapids 1981. Monotheistic

statements of ancient non-Christian philosophers are assessed in Michael Frede, Monotheism and Pagan Philosophy

in Later Antiquity, in: Pagan Monotheism in Late Antiquity, 41-67 and The Case for Pagan Monotheism in Greek

and Greco-Roman Antiquity, in: One God, 53-81. Frede is interested in emphasizing the similarity between the

Christian and non-ἑhristian concἷpts of thἷ “highἷst ἕoἶ,” who is “uniquἷ” anἶ “proviἶἷnt,” to whom othἷr goἶs arἷ “raἶically suborἶinatἷἶ,” anἶ about whom “thἷrἷ is nothing impἷrsonalέ” Thἷrἷforἷ, hἷ ἷmploys thἷ tἷrm “monothἷism” for both ἑhristian anἶ non-Christian religions and thereby arguably minimizes the differences

between the respective theologies of God/god (see M. Edwards, Review of Pagan Monotheism in Late Antiquity

[1999], JTS 51/1 [April 2000] 339-42). 84 Constantine, Or. 11. 85 Frede, The Case for Pagan Monotheism, p. 58; cf. Constantine, Or. 3. 86 Arguably, Constantine rejected the idea of the existence of many gods not only for theological reasons. If

the microcosm of his empire reflected the macrocosm of the divine realm, then one God meant one emperor (Or. 6;

cf. Lactantius, Inst. 1.3.6-7, CSEL 19, ed. S. Brant, Vienna 1890, trans. A. Bowen and P. Garnsey: Lactantius:

Divine Institutes, Translated Texts for Historians 40, Liverpool 2003; Eusebius, LC 3.5). Van Dam (The Roman

Revolution of Constantine, p. 226) has contended that the political philosophy of Constantine developed hand-in-

hanἶ with Trinitarian thἷologyμ “Thinking about ἕoἶ (or goἶs) anἶ thinking about ἷmpἷrors wἷrἷ two aspἷcts of thἷ samἷ ἶiscoursἷέ” ἔor an argumἷnt for thἷ thἷsis “onἷ ἕoἶ, onἷ ἷmpἷror,” see also Garth Fowden, Empire to

Commonwealth: Consequences of Monotheism in Late Antiquity, Princeton 1993, especially 80-99. However, even

if the public discourse about God and emperor was similar, the respective res were arguably not. The New

Testament mentions Father, Son, and Holy Spirit long before the existence of imperial Tetrarchy. Furthermore, the

16

gradually moved away from inclusive monotheism to exclusive monotheism with a Christian

twist, and eventually also arrived at a distinction between the true God and the false gods, to the

so-called, rightly or wrongly, “Mosaic distinctionέ”87

At the same time, what complicates the picture further is Constantinἷ’s acknowlἷἶgmἷnt

of certain plurality within this one, true, exclusive, and transcendent God. If the plurality within

thἷ ἕoἶhἷaἶ inἶἷἷἶ constitutἷs ontological hiἷrarchy, thἷn ἑonstantinἷ’s allἷgἷἶ

subordiantionism may look like a certain kind of ranked henotheism.88 However, below it will be

argued that Constantine did not promotἷ hἷnothἷism in thἷ “χrian”/subordinationist sense of the

word. His concept of God was monotheistic, very much in the sense that the Nicene Trinitarian

concept of God was and is monotheistic.

Before some further analysis, it has to be emphasized yet again that ἑonstantinἷ’s spἷἷch

was a public oration, not a private confession. Furthermore, whereas it was delivered and geared

to a specific Christian audience, it was still and foremost an imperial utterance—a public display

and discussion of what could be displayed and discussed publicly by the first man of the

empire.89 Of course, this does not need to imply that Constantine was insincere, but it does mean

that his Oratio does not proviἶἷ a clἷar winἶow into thἷ orator’s soulέ Pἷrhaps thἷ vἷry fact that

modern interpretations of Oratio understand Constantine paradoxically either as (proto-)“χrian”

or (proto-)Nicene shows, in its own way, that the emperor actually managed to send mixed

signals. Likewise, in his own historical context, Constantine managed to be appealing to both

way the emperors were ranked may have matched with henotheism or subordinationism, but definitely not with pro-

Nicene Trinitarian theology, for the co-rἷgἷnts’ powἷr anἶ acts wἷrἷ not onἷέ 87 Jan Assmann, The Price of Monotheism , trans. R. Savage, Stanford 2010 [German original, 2003]) 2. In

timἷ, ἑonstantinἷ turnἷἶ against ἑhristian sἷctarians anἶ hἷrἷtics as wἷll, for “it was no longἷr possible to tolerate

thἷ pἷrnicious ἷffἷct of [thἷir] ἶἷstructivἷnἷss” (Eusἷbius, VC 3.65.1; cf. 3.63-6). 88 χugustinἷ saiἶ to a ώomoἷan bishop εaximinus, “Shout as much as you want that thἷ ἔathἷr is grἷatἷr

and the Son lesser. I answer you that the greater anἶ lἷssἷr arἷ two” (c. Max. 2.23.1, PL 42; trans. R. Teske: WSA

I/18, New York 1995). The accusation that Arius was a πκζυγiσkβkκμ was already made by Athanasius (Or. c. Ar.

3.15 and 64, Athanasius Werke 1.1.3, ed. M. Tetz et al., Berlin 2000, trans. W. Bright: The Orations of St.

Athanasius against the Arians According to the Benedictine Text, Eugene 2005). 89 Arguably even his private conversations and confessions were always those of a public figure—an

ἷmpἷrorέ “τfficial pronouncἷmἷnts by any autocrat ἶἷsἷrvἷ to bἷ trἷatἷἶ with a cἷrtain skἷpticism” (TέDέ ἐarnἷs, Constantine and Eusebius, Cambridge 1981, 242).

17

sides—to those who were leaning towards modalism (e.g., the logos imagery90) and to those who

preferred subordinationism (e.g., thἷ ἷxprἷssion “two goἶs”).91 It was a smart way, worthy of a

smart statesman, to prepare for the establishment of a hoped for consensus at the grand Council

of Nicaea.

Constantine’s God and the Nicene God

Late in 324/early 325, the Synod of Antioch produced the earliest extant synodal “crἷἷἶ”

and by doing so, established the theological perspective which was about to dominate the

Council of Nicaea. That is, it published a confession of faith, which affirmed the birth of the

eternal Son from the Father and provisionally condemned those who disagreed, including

Eusebius of Caesarea.92

Shortly after the Council of Antioch, some 250 bishops93 gathered at Nicaea to settle,

among other more administrative tasks, the increasingly international scandal of the quarreling

Alexandrian theologians. In his opening speech at the council, Constantine stated that the goal of

this international confἷrἷncἷ was to sἷttlἷ on “one unanimous opinion shared by allέ”94 The

gathered bishops heard this loud and clear. Nevertheless, the actual outcome of the council may

have been rather disappointing to the emperor, for the theological controversy kept dragging on

90 The logos imagery is actually ambiguous, for it can also bolster subordinationism. See M. Edwards,

Image, Word and God in the Early Christian Centuries, Ashgate Studies in Philosophy & Theology in Late

Antiquity, Farnham 2013, 138-44. 91 ἔor ἷxamplἷ, ἑonstantinἷ’s explanation that the Son pre-existed the creation (Or. 11) was acceptable

both to Alexander and Arius, although in a different sense—in an absolute and in a relative sense. Similarly, his

mἷntioning of thἷ “divinity of Christ (kῆμ kκῦ Χλδjkκῦ γiσkβkκμ)” (Or. 18 and19) could have been interpreted either

in an absolute or relative sense. 92 σaturally, Eusἷbius’ Vita Constantini says nothing about this. A Greek version of the Syriac text of the

“crἷἷἶ” of Antioch is provided by Edward Schwartz (1905), in Opitz, Urk. 18. 93 According to Eusthatius of Antioch in Theodoret, HE 1.8. 94 A summary of the speech is given by Eusebius in his VC 3.12.1-5. Another opening speech of

Constantine, if genuine, is found in a late-fifth-century (Ps.-)Gelasius, hist. eccl. 2.7.1-41, GCS, Anonyme

Kirchengeschichte, ed. G.C. Hansen, Berlin 2002.

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and on.95 In fact, whἷn ἑonstantinἷ ἶiἷἶ, thἷ “χrian” controversy was only gaining momentum.

Thἷ vἷry ambiguity of ἑonstantinἷ’s pronouncἷmἷnts anἶ acts may have contributed, in their

own way, to the ever-escalating controversy.96

The Council of Nicaea issued a creed which confessed the consubstantiality97 of the

Fathἷr anἶ thἷ Son, anἶ statἷἶ, “We believe in one God the Father all powerful98 . . . and in one

Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God . . . and in the Spirit,” and condemned those who taught

otherwise.99 Although it took decades and many tense debates to figure out what the Nicene

orthodoxy really amounted to, the question posἷἶ in this articlἷ is, “How does the Nicene

concept of God square with that of ἑonstantinἷ, who ‘sat on a small chair of golἶ’ as he

participated in the conciliar discussions about God?”100

The way Constantine wanted everyone to perceive the landmark Council of Nicaea can

be seen from his letters sent immediately after the gathering. The council and its creed were

95 Cf. Rufinus, HE 10.13-4, GCS, Eusebius Werke 2.2, ed. E. Schwartz and T. Mommsen, Berlin 1908,

trans. P.R. Amidon: The Church History of Rufinus of Aquilaeia, New York 1997; Socrates, HE 23-7, 33-8. Already

in 327, at Nicomedia, Constantine gave a favorable hearing to Arius and recalled his supporters from exile. In 328,

the emperor reconsidered his decision, condemned Arius and his think-alikes for the second time, and ordered Arius

writings to be burnt (Socrates, HE 1.9). But things changed yet again in 335-6, when he asked the councils of

Jerusalem and Constantinople to rἷaἶmit χrius to thἷ communionέ “But Arius . . . somehow slipped back in with

ἑonstantinἷ,” summarizes Faustinus (Libellus precum 6, SC 504, ed. A. Canellis, Paris 2006). All this does not

necessarily mean that Constantine was wavering in his theological understanἶingέ Rathἷr, it mἷans that “his purpose

was consistent: he remained committed to the unity of faith and worship of thἷ grἷatἷst goἶ” and did what he

deemed necessary for the religious unity of his empire (Paul Stephenson, Constantine: Roman Emperor, Christian

Victor, New York 2009, 272). 96 Norderval, The Emperor Constantine and Arius, p. 115. 97 The word homoousios is mἷntionἷἶ nowhἷrἷ in ἑonstantinἷ’s ἷxtant lἷttἷrs anἶ spἷἷchἷs, but sἷἷ

Ambrose, fid. 3.15.125, CSEL 78, ed. O. Faller, Vienna 1962, trans. NPNF 2.10. A subordinationist Philostorgius

even contended that it was not the good Emperor Constantine, but the dreaded Alexander and Ossius who

collaborated in having the council promulgate the completely misleading term homoousios. Accordingly,

ἑonstantinἷ “sent letters everywhere disparaging the term homoousios and endorsing heteroousios” (HE 2.1)! 98 Ιn his letter to Shapur, Constantinἷ ἷmployἷἶ a similar phrasἷ “in confἷssing this one God the Author

and Father of all (kκῦkκθ 推θα γiὸθ ὁηκζκΰ蒼θ πΪθkπθ 刃λξβΰὸθ εαὶ παkΫλα)” (Eusebius, VC 4.11.1). 99 Giuseppe Alberigo, Concilium Nicaenum I, 325, in: Conciliorum Oecumenicorum Generaliumque

Decreta: Editio Critica, vol. 1, CCG, Turnhout 2006, 3-15. 100 Eusebius, VC 3.10.5; but see 4.33.2. However, in HE 1έ1, Socratἷs complains that Eusἷbius was “morἷ

intent on . . . the praises of the emperor than on an accurate statement of factsέ”

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optimistically referred to as a “unanimous agreement, so that nothing remained to cause further

difference of opinion or dispute about faithέ”101 At Nicaea, something was agreed upon indeed

which allowed hope for the much desired unity—a common date of Easter for all Christians.102

Interestingly, in his post-conciliar letter to the churches in general, Constantine spent almost all

textual space on this religious festival rather than on the Christian concept of God—evidently

because, at Nicaea, there was little evidence about theological consensus: some documents were

torn to pieces, the dissenters were compelled to assent and sign the documents,103 and those who

did not, were anathemized. Once again, it is quite remarkable that while about one third of the

council’s lἷttἷr to thἷ Egyptians concἷrnἷἶ thἷ ἶoctrinἷ of ἕoἶ anἶ χrius’ allἷgἷἶ

misunderstanding of it,104 in his imperial letter, Constantine had nothing to say about the doctrine

of thἷ Triunἷ ἕoἶέ Truἷ, hἷ ἶiscussἷἶ thἷ δorἶ’s Day of resurrection, but this discussion was

introduced by thἷ usual vaguἷ rἷfἷrἷncἷs to “the grace of the divine Power (kῆμ γiέαμ hυθΪηiπμ .

. . ξΪλδμ),” “Almighty God (ὁ παΰελαkάμ γiσμ),” anἶ “the divine Providence (ἡ γiέα

Πλσθκδα)έ”105 Somἷthing similar is truἷ about ἑonstantinἷ’s lἷttἷr to thἷ χlἷxanἶriansέ ώἷ

mentions Arius once, but says nothing specific about his theology or the conciliar theological

debates.106 And although Constantine also refers to the Holy Spirit and Savior, he operates again

with all-inclusivἷ “intἷr-faith” ἶἷsignations, such as “the divine Providence (ἡ γiέα Πλσθκδα),”

“one God (i世μ Θiσμ),” “divine majesty (ἡ γiέα ηiΰαζiδσkβμ),” anἶ “the Almighty (ὁ

παθkκελΪkπλ)έ” Thἷ namἷs “Christ,” “Jἷsus,” anἶ thἷ ἷxprἷssion “thἷ Son of ἕoἶ” do not occur

in these letters. Yet, the emperor never forgot to emphasize that “more than three hundred

101 Eusebius, VC 3.17.2. 102 Mark DelCogliano, The Promotion of the Constantinian Agenda in Eusebius of Caesarea’s On The

Feast of Pascha, in: Reconsidering Eusebius: Collected Papers on Literal, Historical, and Theological Issues, ed. S.

Inowlocki and C. Zamagni, Leiden 2011, 39-68. 103 Rufinus says that while six bishops were expelled together with Arius, eleven signed the documents

“with hanἶ only, not hἷart” (HE 10.5). For the attendants and their subscribing various conciliar documents, see

Sarah Parvis, Marcellus of Ancyra and the Lost Years of the Arian Controversy 325-345, Oxford Early Christian

Studies, Oxford 2006, 38-95. 104 Socrates, HE 1.9. 105 Eusebius, VC 3.17.1-19.2. 106 Socrates, HE 1.9.

20

bishops . . . were unanimous in their confirmation of one and the same faithέ”107 Evidently

ὁηκκτjδκμ did not matter as much as ὁηκθκέα did!

χll this suggἷsts that it is still primarily ἑonstantinἷ’s Oratio which provides some

opportunitiἷs for comparing thἷ ἷmpἷror’s ἶoctrinἷ of ἕoἶ to that of σicaἷaέ

In this speech, the transcendent God that Constantine envisions “is forever above all

being (ὁ 精πὲλ kὴθ κ盛jέαθ γiὸμ ὢθ 刃iέ),” “has no birth and therefore no beginning (ΰΫθijδθ κ盛ε

帥ξiδ, κ盛εκῦθ κ盛h’刃λξάθ),”108 is “the origin of all that comes to be (k蒼θ ΰὰλ 厨θ ΰiθΫjiδ πΪθkπθ

α盛kὸμ 刃λξά),” anἶ is “exalted above all power and rising above all goodness (παθkκέαμ ηΫθ

hυθΪηiπμ 厨πiδζβηηΫθκμ πᾶjαθ h’ 刃ΰαγσkβkα 精πiλετπkπθ)έ”109 Thἷ tonἷ of thἷ ἷmpἷror’s

discourse is philosophical, abstract, and sufficiently accommodating.

σἷvἷrthἷlἷss, ἑonstantinἷ’s transcἷnἶἷnt ἕoἶ was unἶoubtἷἶly a Christian God. In order

to affirm the diversified unity of the one transcendent God, Constantine turned to the idea of the

Son as the logos.110 ώἷ contἷnἶs that a twofolἶ “onἷ ἕoἶ” is comprisἷἶ of thἷ ἔathἷr anἶ “the

Word (ὁ ζσΰκμ)”/“child (ὁ παῖμ)έ”111 “Reason (kὸθ ζσΰκθ) . . . [is] God (γiσθ),” anἶ again, “The

Word is himself God (ὁ hὲ ζσΰκμ α盛kὸμ γiσμ)έ”112 The concept of logos helped Constantine to

rescue the idea of thἷ onἷnἷss of ἕoἶ anἶ also to “accommoἶatἷ” the Son of God into the one

God. Thἷrἷ is “one God . . . who sets all things in order by his Word (ζσΰ )έ”113

107 Ibid. 108 While an inscription from Oenoanda calls the Theos Hypsistos “sἷlf-born” (Mary Beard, John North,

and Simon Price, Religions of Rome: Volume 2: A Sourcebook, Cambridge 1998, 2.10a), Christians call the Father

“Unbἷgottἷn” anἶ thἷ Son “τnly-bἷgottἷnέ” 109 Constantine, Or. 3 and 11. In Or. 3 and 23, Constantinἷ ἷquatἷs “the good (刃ΰαγσθ)” with the

transcendent God as well. 110 The emperor ends his Introduction to Oratio by saying that hἷ is now to say what pἷrtains “to the divine

Word (k藻 γiέ ζσΰ )” (Or. 1). See Dörries, Das Selbstzeugnis Kaiser Konstantins, pp. 148-9. 111 Constantine, Or. 9; cf. Jn 1:1. In Or. 11 and 18, Constantine says epexegetically that blasphemers blame

“Christ, God and child of God (Χλδjkσθ, γiσθ ki εαὶ γiκῦ παῖhα)έ” 112 Constantine, Or. 8-9. Since God can never be alogos, the logos has to be co-eternal with God. 113 Constantine, Or. 9; cf. Alcinous, Epit. 1.10.3, Nouvelle Collection de Textes et Documents, ed. P. Louis,

Paris 1945. In Enn. V.1.6, LCL 444, trans. A.H. Armstrong, Cambridge MA 1984, Plotinus understands logos as

“activity (厨θΫλΰiδα)” which actualizes that which emanates from the One. Constantine usage, in turn, allows one to

perceive logos either hypostatically or anhypostatically.

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It is not entirely clear, however, what Constantine says next about the Son of God in his

Or. 3. His words in Or. 11 prove that the emperor was certainly aware of “the double birth (kὴθ

ΰΫθijδθ hδπζῆθ),” of “the temporal origin of an eternal nature (α菅πθέκυ φτjiπμ 刃λξὴ ξλσθδκμ)” of

thἷ Son of ἕoἶέ Thus, if by “thἷ onἷ” (the definite article ὁ), in Or. 3, Constantine means the

incarnated Son, then to assert, economically, that “he received his beginning (kὴθ 刃θαφκλὰθ [lit.

‘coming up, rising’]) from him” makἷs somἷ sἷnsἷέ ἐut if “thἷ onἷ” means the Son before his

incarnation, thἷn “a few passing comments on God and his Word [come] horribly close to

[χrius’] hἷrἷsyέ”114 Likewise, the fourth sentence statἷs that “the one begotten has come to be

(jυθΫjkβ)” and the question is again whether the future pro-Nicene Trinitarian theologians could

have accepted this statement, bἷcausἷ thἷ ἷtἷrnal Son nἷithἷr “has a bἷginning” nor “comes to

beέ”115

However, Constantinἷ’s unἶἷrstanἶing of ἕoἶ is not at all so “χrian” as it initially may

seem.116 First, the birth of the Son117 is not supposed to be understood as a division of the divine

nature.118 Instἷaἶ, it shoulἶ bἷ unἶἷrstooἶ “intellectually (θκiλ蒼μ),”119 as a word from the

mind,120 will from a person,121 or power from nature.122 All these anthropological analogies

114 Fox, Pagans and Christians, pp. 644, 646, and 654. 115 Constantinἷ himsἷlf ἷxplains that “a temporal beginning is called coming to be (ἡ hὲ εαkὰ ξλσθκθ 刃λξὴ

ΰΫθijδμ εαζiῖkαδ)” (Or. 4). 116 See M. Edwards, The Arian Heresy and the Oration to the Saints, VigCh 49 (1995) 379-87 and

ἑonstantinἷ’s agitatἷἶ lἷttἷr against thἷ stubborn χrius (τpitὐ, Urk. 34). 117 The analogy of or the argument from birth is significant. While Scripturἷ ἷmploys thἷ ἶἷsignation “thἷ

son of thἷ εost ώigh” (Sir 4μ1ίν δk 1μἁἀν but “sons” in Ps κἀμθ), a “pagan” grammarian Maximus of Madaura asked

χugustinἷ, “Who is so demented, so mentally incapacitated as to deny that it is most certain that there is one highest

God, without beginning, without natural offspring (sine prole naturae), the great and magnificἷnt fathἷr, as it wἷrἷς” (ep. 16.1).

118 Constantine, Or. 3; see Opitz, Urk. 27.2-4. 119 Constantine, Or. 3 and 6; cf. Alcinous, Epit. 1.10.4. 120 In Or. 6, Constantine employs the Stoic anthropological distinction between the internal and the

expressed word (Sextus Empiricus, M. 8.275–6, LCL 281, trans. R.G. Bury, Cambridge MA 1935), which was used

theologically for explaining thἷ “sἷconἶ ἕoἶ,” at least since Theophilus of Antioch (Autol. 2.10, 2.22, ed. and trans.

R.M. Grant, Oxford Early Christian Monographs, Oxford 1970). Such analogy was condemned in 351, at the

Homoean council of Sirmium, but was nevertheless continually used by various theologians, such as Augustine.

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imply co-temporality of the mentioned elements. By implication, they can also imply the co-

eternality of the Father and the Son.

Second, since Constantine immediately rejects the analogy of birth as it is known from

the created word, the intellectual understanding of the birth of the Son arguably excludes any

kind of temporal gap between the Father and the Son. In Or. 11, where Constantine comes back

to the notion of the divine birth, he aἶἶs that thἷ bἷgἷtting of thἷ “chilἶ” has to match with the

facts that the eternal Son does not have a Mother—although the temporal, incarnated Son has a

mother. Furthermore, in Orέ 4, ἑonstantinἷ’s ἶiscussion of things which comἷ to be and cease to

be is not concerned with the birth of the divinἷ Son at all, but rathἷr with “pagan” gods.123 He is

very clear about a vast difference between the created realities and the eternal uncreated realities,

including the begotten Son, who has “neither beginning nor end (κ製ki 刃λξὴ κ製ki kΫζκμ)έ”124

Things get really interesting in Or. 9, where Plato is saiἶ to havἷ postulatἷἶ “the god

above being, then made a second subordinate to this one (γiὸθ . . . kὸθ 精πὲλ kὴθ κ盛jέαθ . . .

精πΫkαιi hὲ kκτk εαὶ hiτkiλκθ).” Had Constantine stopped here, he would have come across as

a definite subordinationist.125 ἐut hἷ continuἷἶ, “Both shared one perfection and the essence of

the second god received its concrete existence from the first (ηδᾶμ κ製jβμ kῆμ 刃ηφκkΫλπθ

kiζiδσkβkκμ, kῆμ ki κ盛jέαμ kκῦ hiυkΫλκυ γiκῦ kὴθ 西παλιδθ 厨ξκτjβμ 厨ε kκῦ πλυkκυέ” What does

121 In his letter of 325, Constantine compared the Son to the will (ἡ ίκτζβjδμ) of the Father (Opitz, Urk.

27.2), which likewise proceeds eternally from the eternal Father. 122 In Or. 11, there is a reference to God and his power (ἡ hτθαηδμ). See Dörries, Das Selbstzeugnis Kaiser

Konstantins, pp. 380-4. 123 See Constantine, Orέ 14μ “To compare things that come to be with those that are eternal [presumably

God and his Logos] is in truth the most perfect madness. For the former have neither beginning nor end; the latter,

inasmuch as they have grown and come into being and receive temporal origin of their existence and life, are also

subject to death as a nἷcἷssary consἷquἷncἷέ” 124 Constantine, Or. 14. 125 Rufinus mἷntions Emprἷss ἑonstantia’s mἷἶἶling in thἷological affairs, as a rἷsult of which ἑonstantine

bἷfriἷnἶἷἶ a mystἷrious “χrian” presbyter and reassessed the results of Nicaea (HE 10.12). Jerome, in turn,

contended that, having been baptized by Eusebius of σicomἷἶia, ἑonstantinἷ “went off down into the Arian

ἶoctrinἷ” (Chron. 337, GCS, Eusebius Werke 7, ed. R. Helm, Berlin 1984, trans. M.D. Donalson: A Translation of

Jerome's Chronicon with Historical Commentary, Lewiston 1996).

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such a careful qualification suggest? It suggests that, just likἷ thἷ phrasἷ “second god,”126

subordination can be interpreted in both heterodox and orthodox sense. It can mean ontological

and temporal suborἶinationism, which is “χrianism”; and it can also mean causal or logical

subordinationism, which matches with (later) Trinitarian orthodoxy and draws on the traditional

doctrine of the monarchy of the Father.127 So, once again, Constantine contended that the

“sἷconἶ goἶ” received his “concrete existence (kὴθ 西παλιδθ)” from the first principle, which was

his “cause (ἡ α菅kέα)”; and in Orέ 11, “Just as the Father is the cause of the Son, but the Son is the

one caused (εαγΪπiλ α菅kέα ηὲθ υ頗κῦ ὁ παkάλ, α菅kδαkὸθ h’ ὁ υ頗σμ).”128 He may have meant that as

the cause (i.e., the Father) was eternal,129 so was the effect (i.e., the Son).130 Thus, to say that the

Son was causἷἶ is not nἷcἷssarily “χrian” subordinationism.

Furthermore, although God (Father) was thἷ causἷ of both his Son anἶ “of all [created]

things (kῆμ k蒼θ πΪθkπθ),”131 he was the cause of both in a ἶiffἷrἷnt sἷnsἷέ Thἷ “sἷconἶ ἕoἶ”

was his own (ἴhδκμ) and as such, begotten form the first, not created by him.132 From the

perspective of the soon-to-bἷ synoἶal orthoἶoxy, thἷrἷ was rἷally nothing wrong with ἷmpἷror’s

claims,133 especially because, in the same chapter, Constantine explicitly affirmed both the

oneness of God and the divinity of the Son.134 He argues that the “first” anἶ “sἷconἶ ἕoἶ” haἶ to

bἷ ἶistinguishἷἶ “numerically (k藻 刃λδγη藻),” but not ontologically or temporarily.135

126 Se Origen, c. Cels. 5.39; 6.61; Eusebius, praep. Ev. 11.14 and 18 (citing Numenius, Frg. 12 [Des

Places]). However, identifying the possible sources of some ideas and vocabulary is not yet establishing the meaning

of these ideas and vocabulary in other thought-systems. 127 In Or. 23, Constantine actually uses the word ηκθαλξέα. 128 Cf. Plotinus, Enn. V.1.8. 129 In Or. 11, Constantine indeed speaks about the Son bἷing from ἕoἶ thἷ ἔathἷr as “from an eternal cause

(kὴθ 厨ι 刃δhέκυ α菅kέαμ)έ” 130 Thἷ bἷgottἷn Son was “always in the Father (πΪθkκki 逗θ k藻 παkλὶ)” (Opitz, Urk. 27.2). 131 Consider the notorious punctuation problem in Jn 1:3-4. 132 Constantine, Or. 9; Opitz, Urk. 27.2. 133 The Nicene Creed confἷssἷs, “God from Goἶ έ έ έ truἷ ἕoἶ from truἷ ἕoἶέ” 134 Constantinἷ hymns intἷrchangἷably “thἷ truἷ ἕoἶ,” “ἑhrist,” anἶ “thἷ ἔathἷr” (Or. 5, 11 and 17). See Jn

17:3 and the ambiguous 1 Jn 5:20. 135 ἔor thἷ “uniplurality” of numbers, see Plato, Theaet.185ab, LCL 36, trans. H.N. Fowler, Cambridge MA

1921, and Plotinus, Enn. V.1.5.

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To concluἶἷ, rἷconstruction of ἑonstantinἷ’s ἶoctrinἷ of ἕoἶ ἶἷpἷnἶs hἷavily on which

of his theological statements are given priority, for it is not always clear how and whether

ἷvἷrything hἷ says actually cohἷrἷsέ ἐἷcausἷ of thἷ ἷmpἷror’s constant concern for establishing

politically safe theological consensus, his resilient utterances were perhaps deliberately designed

to bἷ hἷarἶ accorἶing to onἷ’s rἷligious prἷfἷrἷncἷέ Yἷt, thἷ graἶual shift from thἷ gἷnἷral

designations of God to the more specific Christian designations, as well as his intention to

conform to the Nicene concept of God seems undeniable. In the beginning of the fourth century,

the imperial agenda and ecclesiastical conviction shared common interests, but while one strived

for the widest possible acceptability of the doctrine of God, the other strived for the rightness of

itέ σo ἶoubt, ἑonstantinἷ’s Summus Deus was meant to match with the restricted Nicene Unus

Deus, but the Nicene Unus Deus was not necessarily the all-inclusive Summus Deus.