Howdy! Welcome back to The Moral Vision of Jesus Christ, the most complete Gospel study you will ever read. We've been at this for quite some time now, but I recommend that new readers start over from the beginning by following this link.
Last time, after discussing our Gospel reading, we completed Part II of our latest "study-within-a-study" regarding the accession of the Emperor Constantine, the first "Christian" Roman Emperor. Today, we will have an abbreviated discussion of our next Gospel reading before we jump into Part III of our study-within-a-study, wherein we will witness one of the most pivotal moments in all of history: the Battle of the Milvian Bridge. Gird up your loins, soldier. There will be blood.
Enjoy!
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Matthew 6:3 through 6:4
3 But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right is doing,
4 so that your almsgiving may be secret. And your Father who sees in secret will repay you.
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An Abbreviated Discussion
Today's verses piggyback directly off of the previous two verses from our last installment. Remember that Jesus was just explaining to his followers, still in the midst of his "Sermon on the Mount," that to give alms or to follow the law simply so that other people will praise one for giving alms or for following the law does not constitute "righteous" action. Jesus assured his followers that people who participate in this kind of vain virtue-signalling would reap no spiritual reward for their "good deeds."
Today, Jesus expounds on his point. In a bit of hyperbole, he tells his followers that almsgiving done with the right hand should be so secret that not even the left hand would know it had happened. We know that hands are not, in fact, conscious of anything, so this verse is, on its face, not meant to be taken literally. Here, Jesus means simply to emphasize the point he made in the previous two verses; he intends for his followers to keep their good deeds a secret between themselves and God. He wants his followers to keep their good deeds so secret that they won't even mentally acknowledge the goodness of their own charity. Taken together, Matthew verses 6:1-4 emphatically call to attention the self-serving hypocrisy of those who do good in order to be praised by humanity. These verses suggest a worldview in which one's relationship with the Eternal is one's own business, and in which the opinions or thoughts of other humans mean nothing of consequence to a true follower of Christ.
As we mentioned last time, there are countless examples in modern America of philanthropic action taken seemingly for the singular purpose of augmenting the public image of the philanthropist. Politicians, Hollywood celebrities, business people and even average Americans consistently make a show of all the "good deeds" they've done for the world through their charity and piety. Both sides of the political spectrum in America engage in this near constant virtue-signalling in order to make it known to all how "good" they are, and how bad everyone else is by comparison. As we can see here, the American way, as usual, is not the Christian way. Jesus speaks about a deeper and higher morality in today's verses, and says unequivocally: "those who pine for the approval of other humans by trying to make themselves appear pious or morally upright will miss out on the spiritual gifts they might have received by ignoring the opinions of others and doing right merely for the sake of doing right."
As is so often the case with Jesus' words, there is next to no ambiguity here. Jesus says what he means, and means what he says. That being the case, we'll retire these verses here and move on to Fourth Century Rome.
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The Emperor Constantine: Champion of Christendom?
Part III: The Second Tetrarchy and the Battle of the Milvian Bridge
It could be said that all things Roman in the world had their beginnings on the banks of the Tiber River. Indeed, the ancient mythological tale of the founding of Rome by the wolf-suckled twin brothers Romulus and Remus begins right on the shore of the Tiber. There, as the story goes, the twin baby boys were abandoned to die according to the will of a certain King Amulius. In this foundational yarn, it was the Tiber itself, in its deified form "Tiberinus," who saved the boys from dying on the edge of the river. Tiberinus gave the baby boys over to the protection of a she-wolf named Lupa, who nursed them as her own. When the boys grew up, they co-founded the city of Rome on the very same river.* The Tiber marks the spot where Romulus and Remus were abandoned and saved, and where the Eternal City will forever sit. The physical and psychological well being of Rome in ancient times was always closely dependent on the tremendous natural resource that is the Tiber, and it is no surprise that Romans came to understand the river as divine.
In today's study, history will bring us right to the banks of the Tiber in Fourth Century Rome, a little more than a millenium after Romulus and Remus were said to have founded the city. We will be heading to a specific spot on the Tiber, about four miles north of the Palatine Hill, where a particular bridge spans 460 feet of the river. The bridge in question, of course, is the famed Milvian Bridge, first built by consul Gaius Claudius Nero in 206 BC. It was on this bridge, and on the land immediately to the north of it, that perhaps the most important battle of western history, the Battle of the Milvian Bridge, occurred. The story is fascinating, and will serve as the apex of our study-within-a-study about the first "Christian" Roman Emperor, Constantine.
Today we have three goals. The first is to understand how the Second Tetrarchy devolved into civil war, positioning Constantine as a leading contender for the rank of sole ruler of the Empire. The second is to become familiar with the legendary tales about the events of the evening of October 27, 312 AD, the day before the battle. The third is to walk through the events of October 28, 312 AD, when the forces of Constantine won a decisive victory against those of one Emperor Maxentius in the Battle of the Milvian Bridge. We have a lot of ground to cover, so let's start by seeing what came of the Second Tetrarchy.
Today we have three goals. The first is to understand how the Second Tetrarchy devolved into civil war, positioning Constantine as a leading contender for the rank of sole ruler of the Empire. The second is to become familiar with the legendary tales about the events of the evening of October 27, 312 AD, the day before the battle. The third is to walk through the events of October 28, 312 AD, when the forces of Constantine won a decisive victory against those of one Emperor Maxentius in the Battle of the Milvian Bridge. We have a lot of ground to cover, so let's start by seeing what came of the Second Tetrarchy.
1. The Second Tetrarchy (for what it was worth)
Last time, as you'll recall, we wrapped up with the mastermind behind the First Tetrarchy, Emperor Diocletian, tending his cabbage farm in Dalmatia and enjoying his retirement. What was next for the Tetrarchy? Well, when Diocletian and his co-Augustus Maximian retired, their respective Caesars, or "junior-Emperors," Galerius and Constantius, immediately assumed the roles of co-Augusti, or "senior-Emperors." The two vacant junior-Emperor positions were then filled by a certain Maximinus Daia and a certain Valerius Severus, according to the decree of Emperor Galerius. Maximinus would serve under Galerius in the east, while Severus served under Constantius in the west. This new quartet of Emperors is known as the "Second Tetrarchy."
We mentioned briefly last time that many Romans were surprised by Galerius' picks for Caesars. Some of their contemporaries saw Constantius' son, Constantine, as a more natural choice for Caesar in the west, and a man named Maxentius (Maximian's son and Galerius' son-in-law) as a better choice for Caesar of the east. Many Romans perceived problems on the horizon when they learned about Galerius' selections. It is little surprise that Galerius' choice of Caesars did, in fact, become a stumbling block for the longevity of the Tetrarchy.
We mentioned briefly last time that many Romans were surprised by Galerius' picks for Caesars. Some of their contemporaries saw Constantius' son, Constantine, as a more natural choice for Caesar in the west, and a man named Maxentius (Maximian's son and Galerius' son-in-law) as a better choice for Caesar of the east. Many Romans perceived problems on the horizon when they learned about Galerius' selections. It is little surprise that Galerius' choice of Caesars did, in fact, become a stumbling block for the longevity of the Tetrarchy.
After Constantine was passed over for the position of Caesar, he travelled to the northern coast of Gaul in order to join his father's impending military campaign in Britain. The father and son led troops into Britain, all the way to the northernmost parts of the island, where they defeated a people known as the Picts in late 305 AD. After a winter hiatus from campaigning in early 306, Constantius had planned to continue his conquests. His plans and his reign as Augustus were cut short, however, when he died of natural causes in July of 306 in the British town of York.
Immediately prior to his death, Constantius recommended to his troops that they unilaterally elevate his son, Constantine, to the office of Augustus in his place. When the army did exactly as Constantius had suggested, hailing Constantine as Augustus, it was no small slight to Emperor Severus, who had had every reason to think that he was "next in line" for the senior-Emperor position. This situation highlighted perhaps the biggest weakness of the Tetrarchy: the Emperors had failed to agree upon definitive rules of succession. There was no "Tetrarchical Constitution" to guide the transfer of power in the event of the death of an Emperor, so the death of an Emperor was likely to result in a run for the throne by multiple contenders.
Immediately prior to his death, Constantius recommended to his troops that they unilaterally elevate his son, Constantine, to the office of Augustus in his place. When the army did exactly as Constantius had suggested, hailing Constantine as Augustus, it was no small slight to Emperor Severus, who had had every reason to think that he was "next in line" for the senior-Emperor position. This situation highlighted perhaps the biggest weakness of the Tetrarchy: the Emperors had failed to agree upon definitive rules of succession. There was no "Tetrarchical Constitution" to guide the transfer of power in the event of the death of an Emperor, so the death of an Emperor was likely to result in a run for the throne by multiple contenders.
Upon being hailed Augustus, Constantine sent a message to Galerius in the east explaining that he had been spontaneously promoted by his troops. He told Galerius that it hadn't been his will to take the position of Augustus, but rather that it had been thrust upon him. Along with this message, Constantine sent a portrait of himself dressed in the robes of an Augustus. Galerius was instantly furious, and was only barely prevented from burning the portrait to ashes on the spot. As anyone might have expected, Galerius had wanted to maintain control of the line of succession, and couldn't bear the idea of Severus being passed over for the senior-Emperor position. Some pragmatic members of Galerius' court were able to calm him down, and recommended a compromise; they recommended that he acknowledge Constantine as Emperor, but only as Caesar rather than as Augustus. The title of Augustus could then still go to Galerius' favorite, Severus. By this compromise, Galerius could avoid immediate war with Constantine, and still empower his man Severus. Galerius consented and sent a proposal of the compromise to Constantine, who consented in turn.
Word travelled fast, and when Maximian's son Maxentius, stationed in Rome, heard that Constantine had taken the purple, he decided to have a go at at the regal robes himself. The Praetorian Guard, or the elite Roman army stationed in Rome, hailed Maxentius "Emperor" on October 28, 306. Maxentius didn't bother to give himself the title "Augustus" or "Caesar," believing that Galerius would eventually acknowledge the son of a former Emperor and legitimately grant him his due title, as he had with Constantine. Galerius, however, would do no such thing. As the most powerful Emperor of the now five Emperors, Galerius feared that legitimizing Maxentius' rule would encourage even more usurpers to leverage pockets of military power against him. Seeing that the Tetrarchy was about to fall apart, and his considerable influence with it, Galerius ordered Augustus Severus to march into Rome and displace the upstart Prince-Emperor Maxentius.
Word travelled fast, and when Maximian's son Maxentius, stationed in Rome, heard that Constantine had taken the purple, he decided to have a go at at the regal robes himself. The Praetorian Guard, or the elite Roman army stationed in Rome, hailed Maxentius "Emperor" on October 28, 306. Maxentius didn't bother to give himself the title "Augustus" or "Caesar," believing that Galerius would eventually acknowledge the son of a former Emperor and legitimately grant him his due title, as he had with Constantine. Galerius, however, would do no such thing. As the most powerful Emperor of the now five Emperors, Galerius feared that legitimizing Maxentius' rule would encourage even more usurpers to leverage pockets of military power against him. Seeing that the Tetrarchy was about to fall apart, and his considerable influence with it, Galerius ordered Augustus Severus to march into Rome and displace the upstart Prince-Emperor Maxentius.
Before Severus arrived at Rome, Maxentius brought his father Maximian out of retirement, making him "Emperor for a Second Time." (Note that this brings the current Emperor-count to six.) This proved to be a brilliant move, as many of the troops under Severus' command had once been under the command of Maximian. When Severus approached Rome, droves of his legionaries defected to the side of their former beloved leader, and Maxentius was thus able to win the day. Severus was stripped of his royal robes and eventually imprisoned by the forces of the potent father-and-son duo. Galerius, in the east, was (again) infuriated, so much so that he decided to march to Italy in the summer of 307 AD and deal with Maxentius and Maximian himself.
Unfortunately for Galerius, Maxentius was easily able to use the prestige of his father's name and the promise of large sums of money to turn many of Galerius' troops against him. As Galerius' approached Rome, it became quickly apparent that he would not be able to dislodge Maxentius. He wisely retreated, plundering and sacking various Italian towns and cities on his way. The rule of Maxentius and Maximian over Italy and Africa were solidified by Galerius' retreat.
During the hullabaloo of 307, Maxentius and Maximian reached out to Constantine, still in Gaul, for peaceful terms. Constantine married Maximian's daughter, Fausta, and Maximian promoted Constantine from "Caesar" to "Augustus." Wary of Galerius' still considerable power in the East, Constantine didn't directly assist the father-and-son duo in their repulsion of Galerius from Italy, but his marriage and promotion did signify a kind of treaty with Maxentius and Maximian.
Then, in an unexpected and perhaps bizarre move, in the spring of 308, Maximian attempted to usurp total power over Italy and Africa from his flesh-and-blood, Maxentius. He believed that the troops serving under them would be more loyal to him alone, but was shocked when his assumption proved to be incorrect. As a result, Maximian was stripped of his title and forced to flee Italy to join Constantine in Gual. Constantine made Maximian Emperor again upon his arrival in Gaul.
Later that same year, a conference of Emperors known as the Conference of Carnuntum was held in Carnuntum, in modern-day Austria. This conference, chaired by the retired Emperor Diocletian, officially refused to accept Maxentius' rule. A new Emperor, Gaius Valerius Licinianus Licinius, or simply Licinius, was appointed and charged with the tall task of displacing Maxentius. Civil wars and wars against outsiders continued thus until, in 310, the power-hungry Maximian rebelled against Constantine, attempting to take command of Constantine's domain. Constantine broke off from a campaign against the Franks and chased Maximian to southern Gaul where he defeated him and asked him to kill himself. In July of 310, the three-time Emperor Maximian obliged Constantine by hanging himself.
Later that same year, a conference of Emperors known as the Conference of Carnuntum was held in Carnuntum, in modern-day Austria. This conference, chaired by the retired Emperor Diocletian, officially refused to accept Maxentius' rule. A new Emperor, Gaius Valerius Licinianus Licinius, or simply Licinius, was appointed and charged with the tall task of displacing Maxentius. Civil wars and wars against outsiders continued thus until, in 310, the power-hungry Maximian rebelled against Constantine, attempting to take command of Constantine's domain. Constantine broke off from a campaign against the Franks and chased Maximian to southern Gaul where he defeated him and asked him to kill himself. In July of 310, the three-time Emperor Maximian obliged Constantine by hanging himself.
By 310, Galerius had fallen ill and was no longer in shape to play any part in the game of Imperial politics. One of his final acts as Emperor was to legalize Christianity anew in his "Edict of Toleration." (Recall that Christianity had been illegal, especially in the eastern half of the Empire, since around the turn of the century.) As Galerius became sicker, he seems to have had a change of heart about the ever-multiplying Christian population. Six days before his death, Galerius publicly asked that Christians pray for him and the relief of his illness. Obviously, this was to no avail, as he died in the spring of 311 AD. Galerius' death marked the total unravelling of what was left of the Second Tetrarchy.
Upon Galerius' death, the Emperor Maximinus Daia, who had been playing Caesar in the east to Galerius' Augustus, went to war with the newcomer Licinius. While Maximinus and Licinius battled in the east, Maxentius became openly hostile to Constantine in the west, vowing revenge for his father's death. Constantine forged an alliance with Licinius to pre-empt Maxentius' doing so, which enraged Maximinus, who, in turn, forged an alliance with Maxentius and offered him military assistance. For a time, any sense of normalcy across the Empire was shattered, and Roman citizens everywhere anticipated the outbreak of terrible hostilities at every moment. 311 and 312 marked a period of almost unprecedented military buildup. The Church Father Eusebius, in his "History of the Church," recorded it thus:
"... besides these things shields and breastplates were preparing, and darts and spears and other warlike accoutrements were making ready, and galleys and naval armor were collecting in every place. And no one expected anything else than to be attacked by enemies any day."
So it came to be that Constantine consulted pagan seers and augurs about what he should do next. The omens came back loud and clear that Constantine should refrain from taking pre-emptive action against Maxentius. Constantine, like several other notable Roman military commanders before him, flat-out ignored the auspices and began to march his troops toward Rome. As he worked his way down through northern Italy in the summer of 312, Constantine was rewarded for ignoring the omens at every turn. His troops found victory against those of Maxentius in Susa, Turin, and Verona in turn. Everywhere he went, Constantine found an Italian population sympathetic to his cause. Maxentius had fallen out of favor in Italy. The next critical cities to fall to Constantine during his steady march were Aquileia, Modena, and Ravenna. He was empowered every step of the way, seers and augurs be damned. Rome was now squarely in Constantine's sights.
As Constantine approached, Maxentius prepared to dig-in, just as he had when Severus and Galerius had attempted to dislodge him successively. He stockpiled grain, abandoned the countryside surrounding Rome, and concentrated his troops inside the Aurelian Walls of the city. He went as far as to order all the bridges across the Tiber to be cut-off, to prevent, or at least slow, Constantine's forces entering the city proper.
In the fall of 312, Constantine's troops set up camp approximately seven miles north of the Milvian Bridge and prepared for a siege. On October 27, 312, Maxentius went out to attend the chariot races. At the races, the crowd openly taunted him, shouting that Constantine was an "invincible enemy." Apprehensive and uncertain how to proceed, Maxentius consulted the oracular "Sibylline Books" - a kind of divination text akin to the I Ching - and was told that "on October 28, an enemy of the Romans will perish." Maxentius took this to mean that Constantine would perish, and was thereby emboldened to make a move against Constantine in the open, rather than await the oncoming siege as planned. Further encouraging Maxentius was the fact that October 28 was the anniversary of his having been crowned Emperor. The internal pressure of the citizens of Rome, the reading from the Sibylline Books, and the omen of his anniversary all led Maxentius to change his tactical plan from "siege defense" to "open war." Since he had already had the Milvian Bridge cut off, he ordered his men to build a pontoon bridge across the Tiber next to the out-of-service bridge so that he could move his troops to the field just north of that spot and bait Constantine into open battle.
2. A Vision from God?
The battle-lines were drawn, and Constantine prepared his forces to move against Maxentius. Some of you know what's coming, but here's where it gets crazy.
To the understanding of history, on the morning of October 27, 312 AD, Constantine woke up as he had on every other morning of his life - that is to say that he woke up as a pagan. The record shows that Constantine was still in the habit of performing pagan sacrifices and consulting pagan mystics in order to divine the future, right up until his supposed "conversion." It is important to note that there is no evidence that Constantine had ever thought of himself as a Christian up until this point. It is of the utmost interest, then, when Eusebius writes that Constantine, on October 27, did a kind of about-face by abandoning himself to prayer directed at the Christian God.
Eusebius claims that Constantine spontaneously converted to Christianity while reflecting on his father's many military victories. (Eusebius is unique among historians in claiming that Constantine's father, Constantius, had been a secret Christian.) Eusebius' account is too important to gloss over or paraphrase. He writes, in his "Life of Constantine:"
To the understanding of history, on the morning of October 27, 312 AD, Constantine woke up as he had on every other morning of his life - that is to say that he woke up as a pagan. The record shows that Constantine was still in the habit of performing pagan sacrifices and consulting pagan mystics in order to divine the future, right up until his supposed "conversion." It is important to note that there is no evidence that Constantine had ever thought of himself as a Christian up until this point. It is of the utmost interest, then, when Eusebius writes that Constantine, on October 27, did a kind of about-face by abandoning himself to prayer directed at the Christian God.
Eusebius claims that Constantine spontaneously converted to Christianity while reflecting on his father's many military victories. (Eusebius is unique among historians in claiming that Constantine's father, Constantius, had been a secret Christian.) Eusebius' account is too important to gloss over or paraphrase. He writes, in his "Life of Constantine:"
"Being convinced, however, that he needed some more powerful aid than his military forces could afford him, on account of the wicked and magical enchantments which were so diligently practiced by the tyrant, he (Constantine) sought Divine assistance, deeming the possession of arms and a numerous soldiery of secondary importance, but believing the co-operating power of Deity invincible and not to be shaken. He considered, therefore, on what God he might rely for protection and assistance. While engaged in this enquiry, the thought occurred to him, that, of the many emperors who had preceded him, those who had rested their hopes in a multitude of gods, and served them with sacrifices and offerings, had in the first place been deceived by flattering predictions, and oracles which promised them all prosperity, and at last had met with an unhappy end, while not one of their gods had stood by to warn them of the impending wrath of heaven...
... Reflecting on this, and well weighing the fact that they who had trusted in many gods had also fallen by manifold forms of death, without leaving behind them either family or offspring, stock, name, or memorial among men: while the God of his father had given to him, on the other hand, manifestations of his power and very many tokens: and considering farther that those who had already taken arms against the tyrant, and had marched to the battle-field under the protection of a multitude of gods, had met with a dishonorable end (for one of them had shamefully retreated from the contest without a blow, and the other, being slain in the midst of his own troops, became, as it were, the mere sport of death); reviewing, I say, all these considerations, he judged it to be folly indeed to join in the idle worship of those who were no gods, and, after such convincing evidence, to err from the truth; and therefore felt it incumbent on him to honor his father's God alone."
Eusebius goes on to describe what is known to historians as "The Vision of Constantine":
Accordingly he called on him with earnest prayer and supplications that he would reveal to him who he was, and stretch forth his right hand to help him in his present difficulties. And while he was thus praying with fervent entreaty, a most marvelous sign appeared to him from heaven, the account of which it might have been hard to believe had it been related by any other person. But since the victorious emperor himself long afterwards declared it to the writer of this history, when he was honored with his acquaintance and society, and confirmed his statement by an oath, who could hesitate to accredit the relation, especially since the testimony of after-time has established its truth? He said that about noon, when the day was already beginning to decline, he saw with his own eyes the trophy of a cross of light in the heavens, above the sun, and bearing the inscription, CONQUER BY THIS. At this sight he himself was struck with amazement, and his whole army also, which followed him on this expedition, and witnessed the miracle.
"Conquer by this." According to Eusebius, Constantine claimed to have been given an order by the Christian God to wage war against Maxentius under the sign of the Christian "Chi-Rho." The Chi-Rho was an ancient graphic symbol of Christ, still used by some today, which was formed by superimposing the first two letters of the Greek word "Christos." For those who aren't familiar, the Chi-Rho looks like this:
On the evening of the 27th, Eusebius says that the message was made even clearer when Christ himself appeared in a dream to Constantine and told him to make a physical likeness of the sign he had seen in the sky as a "safeguard in all engagements with his enemies."
The contemporary historian Lactantius has his own similar version of events, as follows, from his "On the Death of the Persecutors:"
Constantine was directed in a dream to cause the heavenly sign to be delineated on the shields of his soldiers, and so to proceed to battle. He did as he had been commanded, and he marked on their shields the letter X, with a perpendicular line drawn through it and turned round thus at the top, being the cipher of CHRIST.
According to Eusebius, on the morning of October 28, Constantine quickly had a standard, or a set of standards, made in the sign of the Chi-Rho. According to Lactantius, Constantine ordered the Chi-Rho painted on the shields of his army. Either way, history tends to agree that Constantine marched into battle on October 28, 312 AD under some version of this "cipher of Christ," making him the first military commander ever to do so.
Tradition recounts the ensuing battle as perhaps the biggest vindication of the power and might of the Christian God in all of history.
Let us not slow down here...
Let us not slow down here...
3. The Battle of the Milvian Bridge
Finally, we arrive at the critical moment of our study. On October 28, 312 AD, the forces of Emperor Constantine moved against the forces of Emperor Maxentius on the ground immediately north of the Tiber River near the Milvian Bridge. Maxentius' army fought under the protection of the old pantheon of Roman gods, while Constantine's forces fought under the sign, if not the protection, of Jesus Christ.
While tradition remembers the outcome of the battle as being the result of divine intervention on the part of the Christian God, the truth of the matter is that Maxentius had placed himself in a nearly indefensible position on the north side of his pontoon bridge. His troops started out the battle with their backs practically at the banks of the Tiber, leaving them no room to re-group if formations were broken and they were forced to temporarily cede ground. Thus, when Constantine's cavalry faced off against that of Maxentius, Constantine's riders were easily able to prevail, as their enemy immediately ran out of adequate maneuvering space. As any military strategist will tell you, a cavalry with no room to ride is worth less to a commander than an infantry in the same position.
Having dispatched with Maxentius' horsemen, driving them either into the river, off of their horses, or back across the pontoon bridge, Constantine then pushed his infantry forward into Maxentius' men, who quickly found themselves pressed so tightly between a sea of swords and the Tiber that they began to panic. All hell broke loose for Maxentius, as formations broke down and each soldier desperately fought for his own life. As bodies began to pile up, Maxentius, realizing his folly, ordered a retreat across the pontoon bridge toward Rome. On the south side of the great river, he intended to make a second stand on more defensible ground. Maxentius was thwarted by his own weak strategizing; the retreat became a slaughter, as the pontoons were simply not big enough to sustain all of the troops now frantically trying to cross them. Portions of the bridge failed. Maxentius' men clamored over one another on the makeshift bridge or dove headlong into the water to avoid the swords and missiles of Constantine's relentlessly pressing legions. Many drowned in the river, and many more lay dead or dying on the northern riverbank. All of this occurred mere miles from the spot where Romulus and Remus were said to have been abandoned to die in their infancy.
If Lactantius was right, there is no doubt that the last thing many of these men saw before being hacked down was the Christian symbol of the Chi-Rho painted upon their killer's shield. So it was that, on October 28, 312 AD, the Prince of Peace, Jesus Christ, was turned into a god of war, not unlike the pagan gods Mars or Ares. The Tiber, ever willing, drank in the blood.
Having dispatched with Maxentius' horsemen, driving them either into the river, off of their horses, or back across the pontoon bridge, Constantine then pushed his infantry forward into Maxentius' men, who quickly found themselves pressed so tightly between a sea of swords and the Tiber that they began to panic. All hell broke loose for Maxentius, as formations broke down and each soldier desperately fought for his own life. As bodies began to pile up, Maxentius, realizing his folly, ordered a retreat across the pontoon bridge toward Rome. On the south side of the great river, he intended to make a second stand on more defensible ground. Maxentius was thwarted by his own weak strategizing; the retreat became a slaughter, as the pontoons were simply not big enough to sustain all of the troops now frantically trying to cross them. Portions of the bridge failed. Maxentius' men clamored over one another on the makeshift bridge or dove headlong into the water to avoid the swords and missiles of Constantine's relentlessly pressing legions. Many drowned in the river, and many more lay dead or dying on the northern riverbank. All of this occurred mere miles from the spot where Romulus and Remus were said to have been abandoned to die in their infancy.
If Lactantius was right, there is no doubt that the last thing many of these men saw before being hacked down was the Christian symbol of the Chi-Rho painted upon their killer's shield. So it was that, on October 28, 312 AD, the Prince of Peace, Jesus Christ, was turned into a god of war, not unlike the pagan gods Mars or Ares. The Tiber, ever willing, drank in the blood.
Maxentius himself drowned during the retreat, either having purposely dove into the river to swim across, or having been thrown into the river by his horse. One wonders if he had time to reconsider the Sibylline oracle before he gave up the ghost. "On October 28, an enemy of the Romans will perish."
Constantine's victory was decisive, and the battle wound down completely by the evening of the 28th. Constantine had Maxentius' bloating body recovered from the Tiber and decapitated. He then paraded the head around Rome in the following days as a symbol of his power. The head was subsequently sent to Carthage, the seat of Roman power in Africa, as a clear message that Constantine was now the highest authority in the western half of the Empire.
(Here, one is compelled to wonder about the "Christian" nature of decapitations and head-parades. When was it, in the Gospel, that Jesus said "sever the head of your enemy from their body, affix it to a pike, and march it around town before men, women, and children?")
Constantine's victory was decisive, and the battle wound down completely by the evening of the 28th. Constantine had Maxentius' bloating body recovered from the Tiber and decapitated. He then paraded the head around Rome in the following days as a symbol of his power. The head was subsequently sent to Carthage, the seat of Roman power in Africa, as a clear message that Constantine was now the highest authority in the western half of the Empire.
(Here, one is compelled to wonder about the "Christian" nature of decapitations and head-parades. When was it, in the Gospel, that Jesus said "sever the head of your enemy from their body, affix it to a pike, and march it around town before men, women, and children?")
As you now know, the reign of Constantine would be the deciding factor in the eventual "Christianization" of Europe and the Empire, and, as history records, the Battle of the Milvian Bridge was the deciding factor leading to the reign of Constantine. I've said it before, and I will say it again: October 28, 312 AD was among the most pivotal moments in the history of mankind. The "Christians" you know today might not be "Christians" at all if Constantine's men had never marched on Rome.
Next time, we will wrap up this study-within-a-study by considering the policies and reforms of Constantine, which led to the deformation of Christ's religion and to the formation of what is today errantly called "Christianity." Tradition and history see Constantine as the "Champion of Christendom." We will make the undeniable argument that Constantine's rule was, in fact, the death knell for the faith and philosophy Jesus had prescribed to his followers some three-hundred years prior. Join us, won't you?
Next time, we will wrap up this study-within-a-study by considering the policies and reforms of Constantine, which led to the deformation of Christ's religion and to the formation of what is today errantly called "Christianity." Tradition and history see Constantine as the "Champion of Christendom." We will make the undeniable argument that Constantine's rule was, in fact, the death knell for the faith and philosophy Jesus had prescribed to his followers some three-hundred years prior. Join us, won't you?
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Wowee. I'm all sweaty from that. I hope you've been enjoying this deep dive. I want to thank you for reading this writing, and for sharing it with your "Christian" friends. I hope to see you next time.
Love.
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* Later, Romulus killed his brother for teasing him about the slow-going construction of a wall around the Palatine Hill. It's kind of a funny story...
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To read what came prior to this, click here.
