Citizens of Rome, Citizens of Heaven: Caracalla, Macrinus, and the Early Church

In AD 212, Emperor Caracalla issued the most sweeping reform in Roman history. Through the Constitutio Antoniniana, he declared that every free inhabitant of the empire was now a citizen of Rome. From Britain to Arabia, from Spain to Syria, millions were bound under one law.

The jurist Ulpian preserves the decree:

“All those throughout the Roman world who are at present Roman subjects shall be given Roman citizenship.” (Digest 1.5.17)

Caracalla wanted to be remembered as the man who united the world. But senator Cassius Dio unmasks his motive:

“He did this not so much to honor them as to increase his revenues, for he levied new taxes on all citizens.” (Roman History 78.9, Loeb)

Rome’s citizenship was about money and bureaucracy. Christians, however, were already proclaiming another citizenship — one written in heaven.


1. Our Citizenship Is in Heaven

The apostle Paul had written it centuries earlier:

“But our citizenship (politeuma) is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.” (Philippians 3:20)

The anonymous Epistle to Diognetus (late 2nd or early 3rd century) echoed Paul:

“They live in their own countries, but only as aliens; they take part in everything as citizens, and endure everything as foreigners. Every foreign land is their homeland, and every homeland is foreign. They dwell on earth, but their citizenship is in heaven.” (Diognetus 5.5)

Tertullian of Carthage (c. 160–225) ridiculed Rome’s pride:

“We are but of yesterday, and we have filled your cities, your islands, your forts, your towns, your assemblies, your very camp, your tribes, your decuries, the palace, the senate, the forum. We have left you nothing but your temples.” (To Scapula 2, Loeb)

And he pressed the contrast further:

“We acknowledge one commonwealth, the whole world. We renounce your spectacles, we refuse your festivals, we shrink from your public banquets; yet we share with you the benefits of your commerce, your markets, your baths, your workshops, your inns, your fairs, and all the other arrangements of your ordinary life. We sail with you, we fight with you, we till the ground with you, and we trade with you. We are as much your fellow-citizens as we are fellow-men; only we differ from you in that we do not worship your gods.” (Apology 42)

Origen of Alexandria (c. 185–254) gave the same answer when pagans accused Christians of neglecting civic duty:

“If you want to see the real commonwealth of God, you will find it in those who live according to the law of God. This is the heavenly city, not made by men but by God.” (Contra Celsum 8.75)

And Minucius Felix records both the sneer and the reply of Christians:

Pagan critic: “They recognize one another by secret marks and signs; they love one another almost before they know one another. They call themselves brothers and sisters indiscriminately.” (Octavius 9)

Christian reply: “Yes, we are called brothers — as children of one God, united in the bond of one faith, of one hope, of one spirit.” (Octavius 31)

Rome created citizens. Christ created a family.


2. Citizenship Without Safety

Caracalla’s decree offered no protection from tyranny. In AD 215, after Alexandrian plays mocked him, he unleashed slaughter in the city.

Dio reports:

“He slaughtered many of the people, not only those of the council and the leaders, but also a great number of the populace.” (Roman History 78.23, Loeb)

Herodian echoes:

“He invited the leading citizens to a banquet, then slaughtered them with a multitude of others.” (History of the Empire 4.9, Loeb)

Citizenship could not save them. For Christians, this proved what Hippolytus of Rome was already teaching:

“The world hates the righteous, and persecution will never cease until the coming of the Lord.” (Refutation of All Heresies 9.7)

Rome could grant citizenship, but it could not grant safety.


3. Symbols of a Different City (Archaeology and Inscriptions)

Caracalla inscribed citizenship into law. Christians inscribed theirs into stone, paint, and epitaphs.

The Fish (Ichthys)

  • Clement of Alexandria (Paedagogus 3.11, c. 200): “And let our seals be either a dove, or a fish, or a ship scudding before the wind, or a musical lyre, which Polycrates used, or a ship’s anchor…”
  • Tertullian (On Baptism 1, c. 200): “We little fishes, after the example of our Ichthys, Jesus Christ, are born in water.”
  • Epitaph of Abercius (c. 180): “Faith everywhere led the way and set before me for food a fish from a fountain, a great one, pure, which a holy virgin drew up with her hands; and this Faith ever gave to friends to eat, having good wine, and giving it mixed with bread.
“Aurelius Ametus, the saint, lived 8 years and 3 months. He rests in peace.” – 3rd century catacomb of St. Sebastian

This symbol carried a creed in five letters: ΙΧΘΥΣ — Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior.


The Anchor of Hope

  • Hebrews 6:19: “We have this hope as an anchor for the soul.”
“Clodianè, (may) your soul (be) in peace.” 3rd century catacomb of Bassilla

It proclaimed that Christian security lay not in Rome but in Christ’s promises.


The Good Shepherd

  • John 10:11: “The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.”
“Vibia Dionysias” (a Christian woman’s epitaph) – 3rd century catacomb of Sousse
3rd century painting in the catacomb of Priscilla
3rd century painting in the catacomb of St. Callixtus

“In Peace” Epitaphs

Instead of titles and achievements, Christians emphasized peace and family:

  • “Marius, a faithful brother, lies in peace.”
  • “Victorina, in Christ, in peace.”
  • “Aurelius, our brother, sleeps in peace.”
“For Prima, a widow. She died at the age of one hundred years; she died on the seventh day before the Ides of December. In peace.” – 4th century catacomb of Bassilla
“(Tomb) of Agapenius. In peace.” – 3rd century cemetery between St. Felicitas and Via Anapo

These short lines proclaimed hope beyond death.


Pagan Contrast: NFFNSNC

Meanwhile, the most common pagan epitaph read:

NFFNSNC = Non fui, fui, non sum, non curo.

“I was not; I was; I am not; I do not care.”

This fatalistic phrase covered tombs across the empire in both Latin and Greek versions. It was a resignation to nothingness after death, just like nothingness before birth.

“For Titus Magius Caecinianus, trierarch (ship captain), and for his wife Alsia Postuma. I was not; I am not; I do not care.”
“I was not; I came to be; I am not; it does not concern me.” 3rd century, in Greek.

The difference is stark:

  • Pagan stones: “I am not; I do not care.”
  • Christian stones: “In peace, in Christ.”

Caracalla’s law gave paper citizenship. But death revealed its emptiness. Christian epitaphs declared a better citizenship, one that promised peace and belonging beyond the grave.


4. Beyond the Catacombs: Heavenly Citizenship in Daily Life

Christian symbols spread far beyond the catacombs:

  • Megiddo Mosaic (c. 230): a church floor dedicated to “The God Jesus Christ.”
  • Dura-Europos House-Church (AD 232–233): with frescoes of the Good Shepherd, Jesus healing, and the empty tomb.
  • Personal items: rings with anchors, gems with fish, oil lamps with doves.
  • Graffiti: scratched fish and creeds in plaster walls.
The Megiddo Mosaic from the 3rd century. The table at the center of the room was thanks to Akeptous and is dedicated “to God Jesus Christ.”

Citizenship of heaven was not abstract. It was carried on rings, stamped on lamps, carved in mosaics, and painted on walls.


5. Why Not the Cross?

Strikingly, the cross itself was absent from Christian art in this period. Crucifixion was still a brutal Roman punishment, too shameful to display proudly.

Pagans mocked it — as in the Alexamenos graffito (late 2nd c.), where a donkey-headed figure is crucified with the caption: “Alexamenos worships his god.”

Christians confessed the cross in veiled ways:

  • The staurogram (⳨) in early manuscripts like P66 and P75.
  • Anchors drawn to echo a cross shape.

Only after Constantine outlawed crucifixion (c. 315) did Christians adopt the cross openly as their emblem.


6. Macrinus: A Passing Shadow

Caracalla was murdered in AD 217. His successor, Macrinus, reigned only a year before being overthrown. He left no policy toward Christians. His brief rule reminds us: emperors come and go. The church endures.


Conclusion: The True Citizenship

Caracalla claimed to unite the empire by decree. But Christians in his day already lived in a higher unity.

  • Paul: “Our citizenship is in heaven.” (Philippians 3:20)
  • Diognetus: “They dwell on earth, but their citizenship is in heaven.”
  • Tertullian: Christians filled the empire yet belonged to one greater commonwealth.
  • Origen: The real commonwealth is the heavenly city made by God.
  • Minucius Felix: Christians are brothers and sisters, bound in one hope.
  • Hippolytus: Persecution will never cease until Christ returns.
  • Archaeology: fish, anchors, shepherds, mosaics, inscriptions, and epitaphs marked their heavenly belonging.
  • Pagan epitaphs: resignation to nothingness.
  • Christian epitaphs: peace in Christ.

Rome’s citizenship was a tax roll. Christian citizenship was a family.
Rome’s citizenship could be revoked in blood. Christian citizenship promised peace beyond death.

Caracalla and Macrinus are remembered as violent and forgettable. The Christians of their day are remembered for confessing: “Our citizenship is in heaven.” (Philippians 3:20)

The First Critics of Christianity: From Donkeys to Satire

In the earliest centuries, Christianity was not first met with philosophical argument or careful analysis. It was mocked. Before the treatises of Celsus or Porphyry, the first criticisms were graffiti, slanders, and satire. These sneers are important because, even in ridicule, they confirm what outsiders saw in Christians — especially that Christians openly worshiped Christ as God.


Josephus and the Donkey-Head Libel (c. AD 93–95)

The Egyptian writer Apion accused the Jews of worshiping a donkey. Josephus, writing under Domitian around AD 93–95, preserved this insult in Against Apion so he could expose its absurdity.

“Apion, however, was bold enough to foist upon us a most shameless calumny about our temple, alleging that the Jews kept in it the head of an ass, an object of worship, and that the priests of the temple used to swear oaths by it. To support this, he pretended that, when Antiochus Epiphanes entered the sanctuary and carried off the treasures, he discovered the head of an ass made of gold and worth a great deal of money.” (Against Apion 2.80, Loeb)

Josephus ridicules the idea:

“This is a most ridiculous invention, for how could any man who had once entered the temple and looked at its construction and fittings have accepted such a lie, or how could any person who knew the temple rites and customs have believed it? For Apion was an Egyptian, and it is the height of impudence for a man who worships dogs and monkeys and goats to reproach us for allegedly reverencing asses.” (Against Apion 2.81, Loeb)

He then appeals to history itself, noting that when Antiochus plundered the temple he found only vessels of gold, never any idols:

“In fact, when Antiochus entered the sanctuary and found no representation of animals at all, but only bare walls, pillars, and a lampstand of gold and a table and libation vessels, and all the offerings required by the law, he carried them off.” (Against Apion 2.82–83, Loeb)

Key insights:

  • The donkey-head charge began as anti-Jewish propaganda, but because Romans often confused Jews and Christians, it easily transferred to Christians.
  • Josephus’s detailed rebuttal shows this accusation was well known across the empire, serious enough to require public correction.
  • This slander would not disappear. In time, it resurfaced in the Alexamenos graffito and in later accusations against Christians themselves.

The Alexamenos Graffito (late 1st–3rd century AD, Palatine Hill, Rome)

Scratched into the plaster wall of a building on the Palatine Hill in Rome, directly connected with the imperial palace, is the earliest surviving caricature of Christian worship. The structure is usually called the Paedagogium because it may have housed imperial page boys — though some scholars think it functioned as barracks or service quarters. Whatever its exact purpose, it was part of daily life around the emperor’s residence.

The graffito, dated between the late first and third centuries, depicts a man with hands raised in prayer before a crucified figure with a donkey’s head. Beneath it is scrawled:

“Alexamenos worships his god.”

Key insights:

  • This combines the old donkey libel with the shame of the cross — a double insult.
  • But its testimony is even more valuable: it confirms that Christians were recognized not just as followers of a teacher but as people who worshiped Christ as God. The figure of Alexamenos is not admiring Jesus’ teachings — he is worshiping.
  • Outsiders mocked the absurdity of worshiping someone crucified, but in their laughter they preserved one of the most important truths: by the late 1st or early 2nd century, Jesus was already the object of divine worship among Christians.

Lucian of Samosata and The Passing of Peregrinus (c. AD 165–170)

By the mid-2nd century, Christianity was visible enough that it caught the attention of professional satirists. Lucian of Samosata (c. 120–after 180), a Syrian writing in polished Greek, made a career out of ridiculing philosophers, cults, and public figures.

In The Passing of Peregrinus, Lucian lampoons a Cynic philosopher who briefly associated with Christians before turning to Cynicism and later burning himself to death at the Olympic Games. In mocking Peregrinus, Lucian gives us one of the most vivid pagan portraits of Christianity in his own day.


Peregrinus Among the Christians (§11)

“It was then that he [Peregrinus] learned the wondrous lore of the Christians, by associating with their priests and scribes in Palestine. And — how else? — in short order he made them all look like children, for he was prophet, cult-leader, head of the synagogue, and everything, all by himself. They spoke of him as a god, accepted him as a lawgiver, and made him their leader, and took him for a prophet, next after that one whom they still worship, the man who was crucified in Palestine because he introduced this new cult into the world. They were all incredibly attentive to him; he interpreted and explained their books, and wrote many of his own, and they revered him as a lawgiver, a master, and a great man.” (Peregrinus 11, Loeb)

Key insights:

  • The story begins in Palestine. Lucian uses synagogue terms — “priests,” “scribes,” “head of the synagogue” — which Christians themselves did not use in this period. This shows either that Jewish-Christian congregations still retained synagogue-like terminology, or that Lucian, as an outsider, simply described them using Jewish categories he understood. Either way, it reflects the ongoing Jewish roots of Christianity in Palestine.
  • Lucian sneers that Peregrinus made Christians “look like children,” ridiculing them as gullible. But notice the force of his complaint: Christians were a people who listened to teachers, honored leaders, and gave them space to explain the Scriptures.
  • The heart of the satire comes in the line: “They spoke of him as a god, accepted him as a lawgiver, and made him their leader, and took him for a prophet.” Lucian laughs at their naïve devotion, but the passage shows how seriously Christians took spiritual leadership.
  • Yet he adds the crucial qualification: Peregrinus was only “next after that one whom they still worship.” This is powerful. Even in ridicule, Lucian confirms that Jesus was worshiped as God — not simply admired as a wise teacher.
  • Lucian says Peregrinus “interpreted and explained their books.” This is an outsider’s confirmation that Christians had authoritative Scriptures by AD 165, which were read aloud and taught in their assemblies.

Christian Support from Asia Minor (§12)

“Indeed, people came even from the cities of Asia, sent by the Christians at their common expense, to help and defend and encourage the hero. They show incredible speed whenever anything of this sort is undertaken publicly; for in no time they lavish their all. So it was then too: the venerable Peregrinus was in want of nothing, all these things being provided in abundance. Certain of their officials, called presbyters and readers, came from the province, bringing him letters and presenting him with gifts and money. And much was said then also of his dignity and of his extraordinary influence among the Christians.” (Peregrinus 12, Loeb)

Key insights:

  • The geography now shifts to Asia Minor (modern Turkey), the powerhouse of Gentile Christianity. Here the terminology changes: Lucian refers not to “priests and scribes” but to presbyters (elders) and readers (lectors) — technical titles that match what we find in Christian sources. This shows the diversity of Christian leadership structures across regions.
  • Christians supported Peregrinus “at their common expense.” This reveals communal, organized giving: congregations across cities pooled resources as one body.
  • The striking phrase, “for in no time they lavish their all,” is one of the clearest pagan testimonies to Christian generosity. Lucian is mocking, but his words confirm that Christians were known for urgency and sacrificial giving. They did not hesitate; they poured out resources quickly, as though generosity was their reflex.
  • Peregrinus “was in want of nothing.” This confirms the effectiveness of Christian charity. Outsiders may have laughed at their eagerness, but they could not deny that Christians took care of their own.
  • By mentioning presbyters and readers, Lucian accidentally shows us that by the mid-2nd century, Christian churches already had structured leadership and liturgical offices.
  • He notes Peregrinus’s “extraordinary influence.” To Lucian, this made Christians gullible; to us, it shows their deep loyalty and respect for leaders who taught the Scriptures faithfully.

Lucian’s General Description of Christians (§13)

“The poor wretches have convinced themselves, first and foremost, that they are immortal and will live forever. Therefore they despise death, and many of them willingly give themselves up. And then their first lawgiver persuaded them that they are all brothers, the moment that they transgress and deny the Greek gods and begin worshiping that crucified sophist and living by his laws. So they despise all things equally and regard them as common property. And without any clear evidence they receive such doctrines on faith alone. And when once this has been done, they think themselves secure for all eternity. Accordingly, if any charlatan and trickster, able to profit by occasions, comes among them, he soon acquires sudden wealth by imposing upon simple folk.” (Peregrinus 13, Loeb)

Key insights:

  • Lucian now speaks not about Peregrinus but about Christians as a whole. This is his general description of the movement.
  • He says they “despise death, and many of them willingly give themselves up.” This is crucial evidence. It shows that by AD 165 Christians across the empire were famous for their courage in persecution and their willingness to face execution rather than renounce their Lord. It confirms the ongoing empire-wide legal standard: since Trajan’s policy (AD 112), Christians could be executed anywhere if accused and refusing to sacrifice. Lucian’s words confirm both the policy and the Christians’ reputation for meeting it with fearless resolve.
  • He mocks their brotherhood: “they are all brothers.” Yet this testifies to their radical equality, where social divisions of class, ethnicity, and gender were dissolved in Christ.
  • He sneers, “they regard all things as common property.” To him, it was foolishness. But this is one of the most important pagan confirmations that the communal life of Acts 2–4 — “they had all things in common” — was still being practiced more than a century later. Outsiders still saw Christians as people who shared freely with one another.
  • The sharpest ridicule comes when he says, “without any clear evidence they receive such doctrines on faith alone.” This points directly at the heart of Christianity: belief in realities that could not be demonstrated by philosophy — the resurrection of Christ, his divinity, and heaven itself. To Lucian, this was gullibility; to Christians, this was faith.
  • He continues, “they think themselves secure for all eternity.” What he mocks as arrogance is one of the most precious features of early Christianity: the assurance of salvation. Christians lived with confidence that eternal life was guaranteed through Christ.
  • Finally, he says tricksters could profit among them. This confirms their openness and inclusivity. They welcomed outsiders generously, sometimes at the risk of being deceived.

The Prison Scene (§§16–17)

“For after he [Peregrinus] had been apprehended on a charge, which I need not dwell on, he was put in prison. Then it was that he was much in the public eye; and then it was that the Christians, regarding the incident as a disaster for themselves, left nothing undone to rescue him. Then was seen the extraordinary zeal of these people in all that concerns their community; and they showed incredible speed whenever anything of the kind occurred. From the very break of day aged widows and orphan children might be seen waiting about the prison; and their leading men even bribed the guards, and slept inside with him. Then elaborate meals were brought in; and their sacred writings were read aloud; and Peregrinus was called a new Socrates by them. Then there was actually talk of trying to procure his release from the authorities, though this did not succeed. After this, when he had been freed, he again transgressed and was excommunicated from their community.” (Peregrinus 16–17, Loeb)

Key insights:

  • Christians regarded Peregrinus’s imprisonment as “a disaster for themselves.” This shows their communal identity: when one member suffered, the whole body felt the pain.
  • Lucian notes their “extraordinary zeal” and “incredible speed.” Again, Christians are portrayed as people who acted immediately and sacrificially in response to persecution.
  • From dawn, widows and orphans gathered outside the prison. The most vulnerable members were visibly part of the Christian movement, and they joined the community in solidarity with the suffering.
  • “Leading men” bribed guards and even slept inside with Peregrinus. Outsiders laughed at this as naïve, but it reveals Christians’ willingness to risk money, safety, and exposure to protect one another under the empire’s hostile laws.
  • They brought elaborate meals and read aloud from their Scriptures. This detail is striking: even in prison, Christian life revolved around fellowship and the Word. This matches what we see in the New Testament (1 Tim. 4:13) and in Justin Martyr’s description of worship (c. 155), where the Scriptures were always read aloud. Lucian’s sneer confirms this practice was well known.
  • He says they called Peregrinus a “new Socrates.” He exaggerates, but the comparison shows how Christian martyrdom was framed — even by outsiders — as akin to the noble deaths of philosophers who died for truth.
  • Finally, Lucian says Peregrinus was later excommunicated. This confirms that Christians were not endlessly gullible; they had boundaries and mechanisms of discipline to protect their unity.

Conclusion: Mockery that Confirms

From Josephus’s donkey libel (AD 93–95), to the Alexamenos graffito in Rome (late 1st–3rd century), to Lucian’s satire (AD 165–170), we see how Christianity appeared to its earliest critics.

  • They mocked Christians for worshiping Christ as God — especially a crucified man.
  • They sneered at their brotherhood and radical sharing of goods.
  • They ridiculed their faith without proof and their assurance of salvation.
  • They derided their generosity and openness as gullibility.
  • And above all, they laughed at their willingness to face death.

Yet in trying to humiliate them, these critics have given us one of the clearest portraits of the early church: a people marked by Scripture, brotherhood, generosity, courage, and worship of Christ. The very things their enemies thought laughable were the very things that gave the church its strength.