ancient-rome

The Church’s Voice in an Emperor’s “Peaceful” Reign

/ Jason Conrad / Leave a comment

Antoninus Pius (AD 138–161) is remembered as one of Rome’s “Five Good Emperors.” His reign lasted twenty-three years and was marked by peace, stability, and prosperity. He earned the title Pius because of his devotion: to his adoptive father Hadrian, whose memory he defended; to Roman religion, which he honored scrupulously; and to his family. Ancient writers portray him as the model of dutifulness and justice.

But beneath this outward calm, Christianity continued to grow. For Christians, Antoninus’ reign was not simply peaceful. It was a season of both intellectual flourishing and enduring danger. Some of the earliest apologies — reasoned defenses of Christianity addressed to emperors — come from this time, as well as one of the most famous martyrdom accounts of the ancient church.

Antoninus and His Reputation

The Historia Augusta reports:

“He was called Pius for the following reason: When the Senate wanted to annul Hadrian’s decrees, he persuaded them not to do so. He supported the father of his wife Faustina, who had been accused, and obtained his pardon. He always treated his stepmother with respect and honor. And he always sacrificed to the gods, showing reverence in every way.” (Life of Antoninus Pius, 6).

This reputation for reverence and stability carried into later Roman memory. He was remembered as a benevolent emperor who avoided war, strengthened the law, and ensured financial security.

Justin Martyr: Pleading Before the Emperors

During Antoninus’ reign, the Christian philosopher Justin Martyr composed his First Apology (c. 155), addressed to Antoninus Pius, Marcus Aurelius, Lucius Verus, and the Roman Senate. Why multiple emperors? Because Antoninus had adopted Marcus and Lucius as his heirs. By addressing all of them, Justin was not only appealing to the reigning emperor but also to those who would succeed him. He wanted Christianity to be judged fairly at the highest level of Rome.

Justin’s central plea was simple: stop condemning Christians for their name alone.

“Reason requires that those who are accused should not be condemned without a trial, nor hated on account of a name. For what is the accusation? That we are called Christians. This is no crime. The charge is only that we bear a name. If any is found guilty of evil, let him be punished as an evildoer; but not on account of the name, if he is found to be guiltless.” (First Apology 4, Loeb).

He exposed the absurdity of condemning someone merely for a title:

“For from a name neither praise nor punishment could reasonably spring, unless something excellent or base in action can be shown about it. Those who accuse us of atheism, because we do not worship the same gods as you, charge us falsely; for we worship the Maker of this universe, declaring that He has no need of streams of blood and libations and incense.” (First Apology 6, Loeb).

Justin also wanted to show that Christians lived morally upright lives:

“We who once delighted in fornication, now embrace chastity alone. We who used magical arts dedicate ourselves to the good and unbegotten God. We who loved gain above all things now bring what we have into a common stock, and share with every needy one. We who hated and destroyed one another, and on account of our different customs would not live with men of a different tribe, now, since the coming of Christ, live familiarly with them, and pray for our enemies.” (First Apology 14, Loeb).

Describing Christian Worship

Before Justin, the Roman governor Pliny the Younger had reported what former Christians told him under interrogation (ca. AD 112 under Trajan):

“They declared that the sum of their fault or error had been that they were accustomed to meet on a fixed day before dawn, and to sing responsively a hymn to Christ as to a god, and to bind themselves by an oath, not to some crime, but not to commit theft, robbery, or adultery, not to break their word, and not to refuse to return a deposit when asked for it. After this it was their custom to depart, and then to assemble again to partake of food — but ordinary and innocent food.” (Pliny, Letters 10.96, Loeb).

But Justin’s First Apology is the first time a Christian himself described worship directly to the Roman emperors. His account is fuller, and deliberately meant to explain Christian practice in detail:

“On the day called Sunday, all who live in cities or in the country gather together in one place, and the memoirs of the apostles or the writings of the prophets are read, as long as time permits. Then, when the reader has finished, the president verbally instructs, and exhorts to the imitation of these good things. Then we all rise together and pray, and, as we said before, when our prayer is ended, bread and wine and water are brought, and the president in like manner offers prayers and thanksgivings, according to his ability, and the people assent, saying Amen; and there is a distribution to each, and a sharing of that over which thanks have been given, and to those who are absent a portion is sent by the deacons.” (First Apology 67, Loeb).

And on the Eucharist:

“This food is called among us the Eucharist, of which no one is allowed to partake but the man who believes that the things which we teach are true, and who has been washed with the washing for the remission of sins, and unto regeneration, and who is so living as Christ has enjoined. For not as common bread and common drink do we receive these; but in like manner as Jesus Christ our Savior, having been made flesh by the Word of God, had both flesh and blood for our salvation, so likewise have we been taught that the food which is blessed by the prayer of His word, and from which our blood and flesh are nourished, is the flesh and blood of that Jesus who was made flesh.” (First Apology 66, Loeb).

Justin left no doubt: Christians worshiped Christ as God, and their meal was not symbolic but sacred — the body and blood of Jesus.

In his Second Apology, Justin gave examples of how Christians were still executed for the name alone:

“When a certain woman, who had been made a disciple of Christ, remained with her husband for a time and tried to persuade him to live in chastity, and when he continued in licentiousness, she left him. Then, when she was about to be married to another, her former husband accused her of being a Christian. She presented a petition to delay the case until she could arrange her affairs, but her instructor in the faith was arrested and punished merely for being called a Christian.” (Second Apology 2, Loeb).

Even under Antoninus, Christians died for their confession of Christ.

Polycarp: Faithful Unto Death

At roughly the same time, Polycarp — bishop of Smyrna and disciple of the apostle John — was brought before the Roman proconsul.

When pressed to deny Christ, he famously replied:

“Eighty-six years I have served him, and he has done me no wrong. How then can I blaspheme my King who saved me?” (Martyrdom of Polycarp 9, Loeb).

The proconsul urged him to swear by Caesar:

“Swear by the fortune of Caesar; repent, and say, Away with the atheists!’ But Polycarp, with solemn countenance, looked upon all the lawless heathen in the arena, and waving his hand toward them, groaned, and looking up to heaven, said: ‘Away with the atheists.’” (Martyrdom of Polycarp 10, Loeb).

As they bound him for the fire, he prayed:

“O Lord God Almighty, Father of Thy beloved and blessed Son Jesus Christ, by whom we have received the knowledge of Thee, the God of angels and powers and every creature, and of all the righteous who live before Thee, I bless Thee that Thou hast counted me worthy of this day and hour, that I may share, among the number of the martyrs, in the cup of Thy Christ, for resurrection to eternal life both of soul and body, in the incorruptibility of the Holy Spirit.” (Martyrdom of Polycarp 14, Loeb).

Polycarp’s death under Antoninus shows that Rome still demanded worship of Caesar — and Christians who refused still died.

The Epistle to Diognetus: Citizens of Another World

From the same period comes the anonymous Epistle to Diognetus. It begins with a fictional inquirer raising the questions that many pagans asked about Christians:

“Since I see, most excellent Diognetus, that you are exceedingly anxious to learn the religion of the Christians, and are searching into it with the most careful and exact inquiry — as to what God they trust, and how they worship Him, that they all despise the world and disregard death, and neither account the acknowledged gods of the Greeks to be gods, nor observe the superstition of the Jews; and what kind of love they have for one another, and why this new race or practice has entered into life now and not before — I welcome this zeal of yours, and I beg of God, who enables both us to speak and you to hear, that it may be granted to both of us to profit by what we learn.” (Epistle to Diognetus 1, Loeb).

After dismissing both idol worship and Jewish ritual sacrifices as unworthy of God, the author explains that Christianity did not come from human speculation, but from revelation:

“When then you have freed yourself from all these things, and laid aside the error of the common talk, and are rid of the deception of the gods, and no longer suppose, like the Jews, that God has need of sacrifices — then shall you learn what is the true mystery of the Christian faith. For neither by curiosity nor by busy inquiry have we learned it, nor did we discover it through the art of men, as in some empty talk; but it has been handed down to us from the very Word of God Himself, who was sent from heaven by God to men.” (Epistle to Diognetus 4, Loeb).

And then comes one of the most moving descriptions of the Christian life in the entire second century — a vision of paradox, resilience, and heavenly citizenship:

“For Christians are not distinguished from the rest of mankind by country or by speech or by customs. For they do not dwell somewhere in their own cities, nor do they use some different language, nor practice a peculiar kind of life. This teaching of theirs has not been discovered by the thought and reflection of inquisitive men, nor do they champion any human doctrine, as some do. But while they dwell in both Greek and barbarian cities, as each has fallen to their lot, and follow the native customs in clothing and food and the other matters of daily life, yet the condition of citizenship which they exhibit is wonderful, and admittedly strange. They live in their own countries, but only as sojourners; they share all things as citizens, and suffer all things as foreigners. Every foreign country is a fatherland to them, and every fatherland is foreign.

They marry like all other men, and they beget children; but they do not cast away their offspring. They have their meals in common, but not their wives. They are found in the flesh, yet they do not live after the flesh. They spend their days upon earth, but their citizenship is in heaven. They obey the established laws, and they surpass the laws in their own lives. They love all men, and are persecuted by all. They are not known, and yet they are condemned. They are put to death, and yet they are quickened into life. They are poor, yet make many rich; they lack all things, and yet abound in all things. They are dishonored, and yet are glorified in their dishonor. They are spoken evil of, and yet are justified. They are reviled, and bless; they are insulted, and repay the insult with honor. They do good, yet are punished as evildoers. Being punished, they rejoice as though they were thereby quickened into life. The Jews make war upon them as foreigners, and the Greeks persecute them; and those who hate them cannot state the cause of their enmity.” (Epistle to Diognetus 5–6, Loeb).

This is how Christians under Antoninus saw themselves: rooted in Roman cities, yet belonging to another world; hated and persecuted, yet bringing life to others; dishonored, yet glorified; punished, yet rejoicing.

Hegesippus: Guarding the Apostolic Tradition

During Antoninus’ reign, the writer Hegesippus began preserving Christian memory in his five books of Memoirs. Sadly the work is lost, but fragments survive in Eusebius:

  • On the uniformity of doctrine:

“And the Church of Corinth continued in the true faith until Primus was bishop in Corinth; and I conversed with them on my voyage to Rome, and we were refreshed together in the true doctrine. And being in Rome I made a succession up to Anicetus, whose deacon was Eleutherus. And after Anicetus, Soter succeeded, and after him Eleutherus. In every succession and in every city things are as the Law and the Prophets and the Lord proclaim.” (Hist. Eccl. 4.22.1–3, Loeb).

  • On the family of Jesus (“desposyni”):

“There still survived of the kindred of the Lord the grandsons of Jude, who had been called his brother according to the flesh. … Domitian asked them how much property they owned; they said they had only thirty-nine plethra of land, and showed their calloused hands from farming. Asked about Christ and his kingdom, they replied that it was not earthly but heavenly and angelic, to appear at the end of the world. At this Domitian let them go, and they became leaders of the churches, both as witnesses and as of the Lord’s family.” (Hist. Eccl. 3.19–20, Loeb).

  • On James the Just:

“James, the brother of the Lord, succeeded to the government of the Church in conjunction with the apostles. … His knees became hard like a camel’s because of his constant worship, kneeling and asking forgiveness for the people. … They threw him down from the temple, stoned him, and finally a fuller’s club struck his head. Thus he bore witness, and they buried him by the temple, and his monument still remains.” (Hist. Eccl. 2.23, Loeb, citing Hegesippus).

  • On heresies after the apostles:

“Until the times of Trajan the Church continued a pure and uncorrupted virgin. But when the sacred band of apostles had closed their lives, and that generation passed away, then the conspiracy of godless error arose through the fraud of false teachers.” (Hist. Eccl. 4.22.4–7, Loeb).

Hegesippus stands as one of the earliest church historians, traveling through cities, checking successions of bishops, and insisting on continuity with the apostles.

The Rescript of Antoninus — and Why It Fails

Eusebius also preserves a decree attributed to Antoninus, which seems to restrain mob violence against Christians:

“If, therefore, the provincials are able to make a clear case against the Christians in court, let them bring charges. But it is unlawful to persecute them merely for the name. If anyone continues to harass them, let the one accused be released, even though he be found to be a Christian, and let the informer be punished.” (Church History IV.13, Loeb).

At first glance, this sounds as if Antoninus protected Christians. But the evidence of the time says otherwise.

  • Justin begged that Christians not be condemned for the name alone — which shows they were.
  • Polycarp was executed for refusing to deny Christ.
  • Justin’s Second Apology explicitly describes Christians punished “merely for being called a Christian.”

For these reasons, most historians conclude that Eusebius was wrong in this instance — either quoting a spurious decree or idealizing Antoninus. Whatever Antoninus may have written, Christians still died for their confession of Christ.

Conclusion

Antoninus Pius is remembered by Roman historians as the calmest, most peaceful emperor of the second century. But for Christians, his reign looked different.

  • Justin Martyr wrote eloquent defenses of Christianity, describing their moral life and Sunday worship — but still had to plead that Christians not be killed for the name alone.
  • Polycarp was executed, proving that even in a so-called peaceful reign, death was the cost of faith.
  • The Epistle to Diognetus portrayed Christians as citizens of heaven, foreigners in every land.
  • Hegesippus preserved the memory of apostolic succession and the purity of the early church.
  • And Eusebius’ rosy decree about Antoninus was almost certainly wrong.

Antoninus’ reign demonstrates a crucial point: even when Rome was at peace, Christians were not safe. Their very identity was enough to condemn them. Yet it was in this climate that Christianity’s first great apologists wrote, its first great martyrdom was recorded, and its distinct self-understanding emerged.

The empire might call Antoninus Pius — dutiful and devout. But for Christians, true piety meant loyalty to a greater King, even unto death.

Claudius, the Jews, and the Window for the Gospel (AD 41–54)

/ Jason Conrad / Leave a comment

Introduction

When Caligula was assassinated in AD 41, the empire teetered between chaos and reform.
The Senate debated restoring the Republic, but the Praetorian Guard made their choice: they found Claudius, uncle to Caligula, hiding behind a curtain in the palace, and proclaimed him emperor.
He would reign from AD 41 to 54 — thirteen years that gave the early church unprecedented space to grow.

Claudius was no outsider to Rome’s first imperial family.
He was the step-grandson of Augustus through Augustus’ marriage to Livia Drusilla, the grandmother who raised him.
This Julio-Claudian lineage tied Claudius directly to the imperial tradition of Julius Caesar and Augustus — and under his rule, he would restore and reaffirm the protections for the Jews that both men had supported.

Roman historians describe Claudius as bookish, awkward, and underestimated — the butt of jokes in his own family. Yet when given the throne, he proved unexpectedly competent, bringing stability after years of volatility.

For the Jewish people — and for the Christians still seen as part of Judaism — this meant an abrupt reversal from Caligula’s threats.
Claudius restored and reaffirmed the privileges and protections for Jewish communities that had first been granted by Julius Caesar and confirmed by Augustus.
This meant legal recognition of their right to keep the Sabbath, follow their food laws, send offerings to the Temple, and live according to their ancestral customs.

It was during these years that Paul completed all three missionary journeys and wrote his earliest letters, as recorded in the book of Acts.

Christians Were Still Seen as Jews

In the early 40s AD, Rome still made no distinction between Jews and Christians.
The followers of Jesus worshiped in synagogues and kept many Jewish customs.
Their legal standing was tied to that of the Jewish people.

That meant that Claudius’ actions to protect Jewish rights automatically extended to Christians as well.
The legal umbrella was still intact.

Claudius’ Letter to the Alexandrians

Shortly after taking power, Claudius addressed a violent conflict between Jews and Greeks in Alexandria — the same city where Philo had once pleaded with Caligula for relief.
Claudius sent a decree restoring order and reaffirming Jewish rights.

Josephus, Antiquities 19.278–285 (c. AD 93):
“Tiberius Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, imperator, consul, tribune of the people, to the city of the Alexandrians, greeting.

I have long been aware of the troubles which have existed in your city between the Jewish and the Greek inhabitants, and of the recent outbreaks that occurred under my predecessor Gaius. Now, having become emperor, and desiring to settle these disturbances, I issue this decree.

I therefore command the Greeks and the Jews who live in the same city not to engage in further unrest or unlawful behavior toward one another.

The Jews shall not again be expelled from Alexandria, nor shall their rights be diminished, but they are to continue to inhabit the city in accordance with their ancestral customs.

They are not to bring in or admit Jews from Syria or Egypt as new settlers in the city, but only those who already reside there may continue in peace.

I strictly forbid them to hold public meetings except in accordance with their ancestral customs and only in those places officially assigned to them — meaning their synagogues.

Furthermore, I order that no one shall insult them or interfere with their observance of the Sabbath, or any of their other traditional rites and customs.

They are to enjoy all the rights and privileges they formerly had under Augustus and the other emperors.

If anyone violates this order — Jew or Greek — I shall take vengeance on them as a disturber of the peace, no matter what nation they belong to.”

This was one of Claudius’ very first acts as emperor — a clear break from Caligula’s religious aggression and a deliberate restoration of the policies of Julius Caesar and Augustus.

Claudius’ General Decree to the Provinces

Claudius didn’t stop with Alexandria. He issued a broader decree to all the provinces, making protection of Jewish customs an imperial policy.

Josephus, Antiquities 19.286–291:
“Tiberius Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, imperator and consul for the second time, issues the following decree:

Since I am fully persuaded that the Jewish people — not only in Alexandria but throughout the entire world — have increased in numbers and are living with prosperity,

and since they have continually demonstrated loyalty to us and to our ancestors, especially in matters of religion and public conduct,

I judge it right that they should be permitted to continue in observance of their ancestral customs without interference.

Therefore I order that the same privileges granted to them from the time of Augustus — and after him by my father Drusus and my brother Germanicus — be fully maintained in all the cities under Roman rule.

I command that no one shall molest them or compel them to abandon their customs, particularly concerning:
— the keeping of the Sabbath,
— their food laws,
— and their sending of offerings to the Temple in Jerusalem.

In these matters, the Jews are not to be harassed or charged with offenses, so long as they continue in their loyalty and orderly conduct.”

This decree explicitly names Augustus as the source of these rights — and Augustus had been continuing what Julius Caesar had already put in place decades earlier. Claudius was not inventing new privileges; he was reinforcing a long-standing imperial policy that gave Jews, and by extension early Christians, freedom to practice their faith.

The Rome Expulsion

Despite his protections for Jewish customs, Claudius would not tolerate unrest in the capital.
Around AD 49 or 50, disturbances among the Jewish population in Rome led to a sweeping expulsion.

Acts 18:2:
“There he met a Jew named Aquila, a native of Pontus, who had recently come from Italy with his wife Priscilla, because Claudius had ordered all the Jews to leave Rome.”

Suetonius, Life of Claudius 25.4 (c. AD 110–130):
“Since the Jews constantly made disturbances at the instigation of Chrestus, he expelled them from Rome.”

“Chrestus” is almost certainly a misunderstanding of “Christus” — Christ. The unrest likely involved disputes within the Jewish community over Jesus as the Messiah.

Among those expelled were Aquila and Priscilla, who were already Christians when Paul met them in Corinth. Acts never records their conversion; they immediately appear as trusted co-laborers in ministry.

Christianity had, by this point, already reached Rome before Paul ever visited. Paul confirms this in Romans 1:8, writing, “Your faith is being reported all over the world.” The church in Rome likely began through Jewish believers who had been in Jerusalem at Pentecost (Acts 2:10) and carried the gospel back home.

What Was Happening in the Church?

Claudius’ reign was one of the most formative in early church history:

  • James the brother of John was martyred c. AD 44
    • Emperor: Claudius
    • Official: Herod Agrippa I (Acts 12:1–2)
  • Peter was arrested, likely to be executed next (Acts 12:3–11)
  • Paul’s First Missionary Journey: AD 46–48 (Acts 13–14)
  • The Jerusalem Council: AD 49 (Acts 15)
  • Paul’s Second Missionary Journey: AD 49–52 (Acts 15:36–18:22)
  • Paul tried before Gallio, Roman proconsul of Achaia (Acts 18:12–17)
  • Paul’s Third Missionary Journey: AD 52–54 (Acts 18:23–21:16)

Paul’s Letters During Claudius’ Reign

Several of Paul’s letters were written under Claudius:

  • Galatians – c. AD 48–49, likely between the first and second journeys, addressing the push to require Gentile Christians to keep the Mosaic Law.
  • 1 Thessalonians – c. AD 50–51, written from Corinth during the second journey to encourage a persecuted young church.
  • 1 Corinthians – c. AD 53–54, written from Ephesus during the third journey to address division, immorality, and doctrinal confusion.

Persecution Continued Under Claudius

Although Claudius’ reign provided legal protection through Judaism’s recognized status, Paul’s own letters from this period show that persecution was an ongoing expectation and reality for the church.

In Galatians, Paul warns against compromising the gospel under pressure from those demanding Gentile believers keep the law (Galatians 1:6–10; 4:29).
In 1 Thessalonians, he commends the believers for standing firm in the face of suffering: “You suffered from your own people the same things those churches of God suffered from the Jews” (1 Thessalonians 2:14).
In 1 Corinthians, he speaks of apostles being “condemned to die in the arena” and “made a spectacle to the whole universe” (1 Corinthians 4:9).

This persecution came from multiple directions —

  • Jewish authorities, as seen in Paul’s repeated synagogue expulsions (Acts 13:45–50; 14:2–6; 17:5–9).
  • Local Gentile opposition, stirred up by economic or religious concerns (Acts 16:19–24; 19:23–41).
  • And from rulers like Herod Agrippa I, who executed James the brother of John and imprisoned Peter in Jerusalem during Claudius’ reign (Acts 12:1–3).

Even in this window of stability, Paul and the churches he planted understood that following Christ meant sharing in his sufferings — a reality they embraced alongside the rapid spread of the gospel.

The Crucial Window: Caligula to Nero

Between Caligula’s threats to desecrate the Temple and Nero’s fire in AD 64 came a rare 13-year window of stability under Claudius.
In that time:

  • Paul completed all three missionary journeys.
  • The gospel spread across Syria, Galatia, Macedonia, and Achaia.
  • The first New Testament letters were written.
  • The church began to define the gospel for both Jew and Gentile.
  • Christianity had already reached Rome before Paul arrived, and the church there was strong enough for him to say their faith was known “all over the world” (Romans 1:8).

Had Claudius ruled like Caligula — or had Nero come to power earlier — the story could have been very different.

Conclusion

Claudius died in AD 54, likely poisoned by his wife Agrippina.
Her son, Nero, became emperor.
And under Nero, the fire would start.

But for just over a decade, the church had room to grow — protected under the legal status of Judaism, traveling freely across the empire, planting congregations, writing the Scriptures that would anchor the Christian faith, and enduring persecution with the expectation that it was part of following Christ.

Caligula, the Jews, and the Birth of the Christian Name

/ Jason Conrad / Leave a comment

Introduction

When the Emperor Tiberius died in AD 37, the empire — and Judea in particular — was ready for change.
Years of suspicion and repression had left the people weary.

Into that moment stepped Gaius Julius Caesar Germanicus — better known by his childhood nickname, Caligula, “little boots.”
At first, he was welcomed as a breath of fresh air: the beloved son of the popular general Germanicus, a man whose family name still inspired loyalty in the legions.

But within months of taking the throne, Caligula’s rule took a shocking turn.
A serious illness changed him — or perhaps revealed him.
He began to speak and act as if he were not just Rome’s ruler, but Rome’s god.

Caligula’s four-year reign takes us into the early chapters of the book of Acts — roughly Acts 8 through Acts 11, and possibly touching Acts 12. This is the period after Stephen’s martyrdom, when Saul is converted, the gospel spreads to Samaria, and the first Gentiles come to faith.
In Acts 11:26 we read, “The disciples were first called Christians in Antioch.”
That moment, the birth of the Christian name, happens right around the time Caligula is assassinated.

At this stage in history, Christians were still viewed by Rome as part of the Jewish community. There was no legal distinction between them. Because of that, they came under the same imperial pressures as the Jews — but their primary opposition, as the book of Acts records, came from certain Jewish religious leaders, not directly from Rome.

Demanding Worship

Caligula’s early popularity soon gave way to demands for divine honors.

Cassius Dio, Roman History 59.28 (c. AD 200–235):
“He gave orders that the statue of Zeus at Olympia be brought to Rome, in order that he might set up a statue of himself in its place, and be worshipped as Zeus.”

Suetonius, Caligula 22 (c. AD 110–130):
“He demanded that all statues of the gods be brought to Rome and have his image set upon them.
Those who failed to swear by his Genius or sacrifice to him were executed or exiled.”

Cassius Dio, Roman History 59.6:
“He became terribly bloodthirsty, once stained with blood. He killed without trial anyone he suspected.
And because he was now calling himself a god, any slight was counted as sacrilege.”

Cassius Dio, Roman History 59.25:
“In Gaul he executed many nobles who failed to show delight at his arrival.
Some were accused of mocking the temples erected in his honor.”

These weren’t harmless eccentricities. Caligula’s divine pretensions were enforced with political terror. Refusal to participate in his worship could mean exile, confiscation of property, or death — whether you were a senator in Rome or a provincial subject.

Christians Were Still Seen as Jews

In the late 30s AD, the Roman state made no distinction between Jews and Christians.

The followers of Jesus still met in synagogues. They kept many Jewish customs. Their proclamation of a crucified and risen Messiah looked, to outsiders, like one more messianic variation within Judaism.

That meant that when Jews came under threat for refusing emperor worship, Christians came under the same threat — not because Rome recognized them as a separate group, but because they were still identified as Jews.

It’s important to remember: in this period, as Acts records, the primary persecution of Christians came from Jewish religious authorities and their allies, not from the Roman state.

The Temple Statue Order

Caligula’s most infamous act toward the Jews came in AD 39 or 40, when he ordered a colossal statue of himself to be placed in the Jerusalem Temple — the holiest site in Judaism.

Josephus, Antiquities 18.261–262 (c. AD 93):
“Petronius, the governor of Syria, was astonished at the constancy of the Jews… Tens of thousands came to meet him, begging him not to allow the laws of their forefathers to be transgressed. They threw themselves on the ground and exposed their necks, declaring they were ready to be slain rather than see the image set up.”

Josephus, War 2.195 (c. AD 75):
“They continued in this posture for forty days, lying prostrate on the ground and praying with tears that the laws of their forefathers not be violated.”

Josephus, Antiquities 18.278:
“They said they would rather let their land lie untilled than submit to such impiety. ‘We will neither fight nor flee,’ they said, ‘but if you wish, kill us. Slaughter us as sacrifices upon our own soil, and we shall die satisfied if we keep our Law.’”

This was a theological line that could not be crossed. The Jewish resistance was total and nonviolent, but it risked triggering a rebellion that could have spread far beyond Judea.

Philo Stands Before Caligula

In Alexandria, Jews were being attacked. Synagogues were seized. A delegation led by Philo of Alexandria (c. AD 40s) was sent to plead their case before Caligula.

Philo’s description in Embassy to Gaius is striking.

Philo, Embassy to Gaius 206:
“He would run to the peacocks and talk to them, then dart off to a cluster of trees… laughing loudly and pretending to judge the beauty of the statues.
We followed him like prisoners in a triumphal procession.”

Philo, Embassy to Gaius 351–352:
“He ridiculed us without restraint.
He said, ‘You are people who do not believe I have been made a god, although I am clearly one!’
And when we tried to explain our ancestral customs, he laughed louder still and said,
‘You are not defending your religion — you are insulting mine!’”

Philo, Embassy to Gaius 358:
“No one could guess what he would do next.
His madness was like the sea, stirred by contrary winds — always shifting, never at peace.”

The emperor’s mood, not the law, was the deciding factor for the fate of entire communities.

Petronius Risks His Life

In Judea, the man tasked with carrying out the statue order was the governor of Syria, Publius Petronius. He saw the Jewish determination to resist and feared the order would ignite a rebellion that could consume the whole region.

Josephus, Antiquities 18.297–299:
“Petronius took the blame upon himself… He wrote to Caligula saying that if he forced the image into the Temple, all Syria would be in revolt.
He told his wife and children to prepare for his death.”

Caligula sent a letter ordering Petronius to commit suicide. But before it arrived:

Josephus, Antiquities 18.302:
“The letter from Caligula, commanding Petronius to kill himself, was already on its way —
but a messenger arrived first announcing that Gaius was dead. And so Petronius was saved.”

What Was Happening in the Church?

During Caligula’s reign:

  • Jesus had been crucified just a few years earlier, c. AD 30.
  • Paul had been converted, c. AD 31–32.
  • The gospel had spread to Samaria and Antioch.
  • According to Acts 11:26, “The disciples were first called Christians in Antioch.”
  • The events of Acts 8–11 — and possibly into Acts 12 — take place during these years.
  • The primary persecution of Christians recorded in Acts during this period came from certain Jewish authorities (Acts 8:1–3; Acts 9:1–2), not from Rome.

Conclusion

Caligula’s reign ended in AD 41 when members of the Praetorian Guard assassinated him.
For the Jews — and for Christians — his death was seen as a deliverance.

But his four years on the throne left a deep impression: the empire could demand worship from its subjects, and refusal could bring you to the brink of death.

The birth of the Christian name in Antioch happened in this very period, under the shadow of an emperor who claimed to be all the gods.

In the next post, we’ll see how the man who succeeded him — Claudius — brought a surprising period of stability, and how, under that stability, the Christian mission exploded across the empire.

Why Even Atheist Historians Believe in John the Baptist

/ Jason Conrad / Leave a comment

What kind of world crucified Jesus—and why do even atheist historians agree that John the Baptist was real? This post explores the reign of Emperor Tiberius (AD 14–37) and the volatile political and religious landscape of Judea under Roman rule. It was during this time that both John the Baptist and Jesus of Nazareth were executed. And just one year later, Paul the Apostle was converted. Drawing on the writings of Josephus, Philo, and Tacitus, we’ll see how Rome responded to charismatic Jewish voices—and how their attempts to silence those voices only fueled the Christian movement.

“Now in the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar…”

That line from Luke 3:1 grounds the Gospel narrative in historical time. Tiberius ruled from AD 14 to 37. The fifteenth year corresponds to AD 28 or 29. Pontius Pilate was the governor of Judea. And John the Baptist was already preaching in the wilderness.

John the Baptist: A Voice Rome Couldn’t Ignore

Historians—including secular and even atheist scholars—agree that John the Baptist is one of the most historically verifiable figures from the New Testament. Why?

  • He’s documented in multiple independent sources: all four Gospels and the writings of Josephus, a Jewish historian with no sympathy for Christianity.
  • He presents a “criterion of embarrassment”—Jesus submits to baptism by John, which would suggest moral inferiority. The early church wouldn’t have invented that.
  • His role fits perfectly into first-century Jewish culture, when prophetic voices were seen as potential threats under Roman occupation.
  • His preaching content cited by Josephus matches what the Gospel accounts share as well.

Josephus was born in AD 37, just a few years after John’s death. He would have grown up among people who had heard John preach. Here’s Josephus’s full account:

“Now some of the Jews thought that the destruction of Herod’s army came from God, and that it was a very just punishment for what he had done against John, who was called the Baptist. For Herod had killed this good man, who had exhorted the Jews to lead righteous lives, to practice justice toward their fellows and piety toward God, and so doing join in baptism. In his view this was a necessary preliminary if baptism was to be acceptable to God. They must not employ it to gain pardon for whatever sins they committed, but as a consecration of the body, implying that the soul was already cleansed by right behavior.

When others too joined the crowds about him because they were aroused to the highest degree by his sermons, Herod became alarmed. Eloquence that had so great an effect on mankind might lead to some form of sedition, for it looked as if they would do everything he counseled. Herod decided, therefore, that it would be much better to strike first and be rid of him than to wait until a disturbance broke out and he had to act when it was too late. Because of Herod’s suspicions, John was sent in chains to the fortress of Machaerus, which we have previously mentioned, and there put to death. The Jews, to this day, hold that the destruction of his army was a punishment sent upon Herod by God, a mark of his disapproval of what he had done against John.”
—Josephus, Antiquities 18.5.2

John was not a violent revolutionary. He called people to repentance and moral renewal. But Herod Antipas feared his influence. The people were ready to “do everything he counseled.” In a Roman client state, that was enough to warrant execution.

Pilate Provokes—and Then Bows to Pressure

Pontius Pilate, appointed by Tiberius, governed Judea from AD 26 to 36. He was known for provoking Jewish unrest. Here’s how Josephus describes one early incident, when Pilate introduced Roman standards bearing Caesar’s image into Jerusalem:

“But now Pilate, the procurator of Judaea, brought into Jerusalem by night and under cover the effigies of Caesar that are called standards. The next day this caused a great uproar among the Jews. Those who were shocked by the incident went in a body to Pilate at Caesarea and for many days begged him to remove the standards from Jerusalem. When he refused, they fell to the ground and remained motionless for five days and nights. On the sixth day Pilate took his seat on the tribunal in the great stadium and summoned the multitude, as if he meant to grant their petition. Instead, he gave a signal to the soldiers to surround the Jews, and threatened to cut them down unless they stopped pressing their petition. But they threw themselves on the ground and bared their necks, shouting that they would welcome death rather than the violation of their laws. Deeply impressed by their religious fervor, Pilate ordered the standards to be removed from Jerusalem.”
—Josephus, Antiquities 18.3.1

Thousands of Jews lay on the ground, necks exposed, ready to die. Pilate backed down. But this moment revealed his tendency to provoke until things nearly exploded.

Philo also describes Pilate’s recklessness—this time involving golden shields inscribed with the emperor’s name:

“Pilate, who had been appointed prefect of Judaea, displayed the shields in Herod’s palace in the Holy City. They bore no image—only an inscription. But when the people learned what had been done, and realized that their laws had been trampled underfoot, they petitioned Pilate to remove the shields. He steadfastly refused. Then they took the matter to Tiberius, who was indignant that Pilate had dared to offend religious sentiments and ordered him by letter to remove the shields immediately and transfer them to Caesarea.”
—Philo, Embassy to Gaius, §§299–305

Pilate was politically clumsy and religiously tone-deaf. But this is the man who would oversee the crucifixion of Jesus.

Tacitus Confirms the Crucifixion

Even Tacitus, the great Roman historian, confirms the execution of Jesus—and notes that Rome failed to stop what it had begun:

“Christus, the founder of the name, had undergone the death penalty in the reign of Tiberius, by sentence of the procurator Pontius Pilatus, and the pernicious superstition was checked for a moment, only to break out once more, not merely in Judea, the home of the disease, but in the capital itself, where all things horrible or shameful in the world collect and find a vogue.”
—Tacitus, Annals 15.44

This phrase—“checked for a moment”—reveals Rome’s belief that the crucifixion had ended the Jesus movement. But instead, it spread.

Tacitus calls Christianity a “pernicious superstition”—a key Roman legal category.

Religio vs. Superstitio: Why Rome Saw Christians as Dangerous

To the Roman mind:

  • Religio referred to official, ancestral, state-sponsored worship—gods like Jupiter or Mars, or the emperor himself.
  • Superstitio meant foreign, irrational, and unauthorized religion—often seen as destabilizing.

By labeling Christianity as a superstition rather than a religio, Tacitus reveals how Rome legally and socially marginalized the movement. It wasn’t just false—it was disruptive and subversive.

“Let the very mention of the cross be far removed not only from the body of a Roman citizen, but from his thoughts, his eyes, his ears.”
—Cicero, Against Verres 2.5.168

The cross was something to be erased from polite society. But the early Christians made it the centerpiece of their message.

AD 31: The Conversion of Paul

In AD 31, just one year after Jesus was crucified, Saul of Tarsus—a Roman citizen and a Pharisee—was converted. He would become Paul the Apostle, and his letters would one day be copied across the empire.

Conclusion: “Checked for the Moment”

When Tiberius died in AD 37, John the Baptist had been silenced, Jesus had been crucified, and Paul had been converted. Rome thought it had preserved peace. But instead, it had launched a kingdom that would spread from Judea to the capital.

Tacitus said the movement was “checked for the moment.”

But that moment didn’t last.