Candida Moss’s “The Myth of Persecution”–A New Book Analysis Series (Part 3: The Early Christians Weren’t Really Persecuted…aka “How Moss is an Imperial Cult Propagandist”)

This week in Arkansas, we’ve had a bit of a few cold, wintry days, which means school has been canceled. And that means I have a few extra days to cover Candida Moss’s book, The Myth of Persecution. Today, I’m going to be looking at Chapter 4: “How Persecuted Were the Early Christians?”

Chapter 4: How Persecuted Were the Early Christians?
As I mentioned in my first post, Moss throws out a false caricature regarding how Christianity has always talked about the time of the martyrs. She claims that Christians have always claimed that for the first 300 years of Christianity, Christians were constantly being persecuted by the Roman Empire, and that Rome was actively persecuting Christians for no other reason than they were Christians. Anyone who knows anything about Church History knows that is a wildly inaccurate and false caricature.

Nevertheless, that is how Moss frames what Christianity has always claimed about those first 300 years of the Church. She does this, not so she could set the record straight and provide a nuanced, more historically accurate understanding of those first 300 years, but rather so that she could put forth an equally absurd take on history—namely, Christians really weren’t persecuted at all…maybe for a few short years, but no, not really at all.

The way she gets away with this is by engaging in, quite frankly, very unimpressive and oversimplistic argumentation. She cites early Church Fathers like Justin Martyr and Tertullian, both of whom claim that Christians were often arrested for simply being Christians and were often scapegoated whenever anything went wrong. She then takes those statements and reacts with, “Well, Christians weren’t targeted for 300 years straight! There wasn’t an official policy in the Roman Empire that unfairly targeted Christians just for what they believed! The Roman Empire wasn’t constantly sending out soldiers to hunt down Christians all the time!” But that’s not what Justin Martyr and Tertullian (and others) were claiming, was it? They were commenting on specific historical times and places where harassment of Christians did happen. And the thing is, Moss actually acknowledges this in a dismissive, backhanded way throughout her book. She often says things like, “Well yes, sure, some Christians were tortured and killed….BUT….” and goes about basically being an apologist for Roman Imperial policy. Let’s see how she does it…

Persecution by the Jews
Before she gets to Roman persecution, Moss addresses the claims primarily in the Book of Acts that the earliest persecution of Christians came at the hands of the Jews around Jerusalem, shortly after Jesus’ crucifixion. First off, she looks at the martyrdom of Stephen (Acts7). She acknowledges that the author of Acts is intentionally framing Stephen’s death to parallel the death of Jesus, but then dismisses the account of Stephen’s death as not really historically reliable and not really persecution. It’s not historically reliable because the author of Acts is clearly shaping his account to draw connections between Stephen’s death and Jesus’ death. Therefore, according to Moss, if an account shows signs of literary creativity to make a theological point, it is historically unreliable. As for it not really being persecution, “…the death of Stephen sounds more like a lynching or mob violence” (131). I’m sorry, that doesn’t diminish the fact that Stephen was killed by Jews who were enraged that he spoke against the Temple and was a follower of Christ.

She then proceeds to dismiss the claims that the period of Stephen and Paul was a time when Christians were harassed and persecuted by Jews on the basis that Christianity wasn’t a distinct, separate religion yet. That time “cannot be considered a period in which Jews persecuted Christians, because Christians did not yet exist” (114). It was just a time of tension between Jewish groups, and “This tension may have occasionally erupted into violence, but this does not mean that ‘Christians’ were persecuted” (114). I’m sorry, if we said, “The original Jewish followers of Jesus were harassed, arrested, and sometimes killed by their fellow Jews,” would that count as persecution? Or are we going to get hung up on a name (that, incidentally was used as early as Acts 11:26)?

After that, Moss briefly discusses the deaths of the apostles themselves. Not surprisingly, she dismisses the notion that they were really persecuted and killed. Yes, Moss admits, we might have to “concede that the apostles might have been viewed as revolutionaries” (137). But that would simply mean not that they were executed for being Christians, but for being “revolutionaries or for disturbing the peace” (137). She continues, “We also do not know whether at any point they were given the opportunity to deny Christ and live. This is the key element that’s missing if we’re to argue that they died for Christ” (137). I’ll leave it to you, the reader, to assess the rationality of that argument.

Persecution by Rome
When Moss turns her attention to the “alleged” Roman persecution of Christians, she begins with Tacitus’ account of how Nero blamed Christians for the great fire of Rome in AD 64. According to Tacitus, Nero tortured the Christians who were already hated by the populace. He dressed them in animal skins to be thrown to wild animals, and drenched them in tar and then burned them alive as torches to lighten the night. Amazingly, though, Moss dismisses Tacitus’ account. Tacitus was a Roman historian who certainly was not a Christian, so why would Moss dismiss his historical account?

Simple—he wrote his Annals a good 50 years after the great fire of Rome, and no one would have even recognized Christians as a separate group yet: “If followers of Jesus weren’t even identified as Christians, it’s highly improbable that Christians were well known and disliked enough that Nero could single them out as scapegoats” (139). Apparently, Moss is not familiar with Acts 11:26 that clearly states Jesus’ followers had begun to be referred to as “Christians” before the death of the Apostle James, which would be before the death of Herod Agrippa, which happened in AD 44. So, to be clear, Moss, a supposed historian, dismisses both Acts and Tacitus, both which testify to the fact that the followers of Jesus were known as “Christians,” and basically responds, without any evidence whatsoever, with a shrug and a “Nu-uh!”

Moss then addresses Pliny the Younger’s letter to Trajan regarding how to deal with Christians who have been arrested. This would be roughly in the early 2^nd century. Pliny tells Trajan that he had never participated in the trials of Christians before. He was worried that because it was spreading, not as many people were buying animals for pagan sacrifices. He had tortured two female slaves who were deaconess and was convinced that Christianity was a “superstition.” He only executed Christians if they refused to invoke the gods, refused to deny they were Christians in court, and refused to curse Christ.

Well, says Moss, “that doesn’t mean that Pliny hated Christianity” (141). He was just concerned with the unity of the Roman Empire. As long as Christians denied it in court and offered the necessary worship of the gods, they would be pardoned. They had a way out of getting killed, so you can’t really call it persecution! Besides, Moss says, there were a lot of Roman governors and administrators who weren’t really interested in arresting Christians and were in fact lenient towards Christians. Therefore, even though in the first 250 years (before the reign of Decius) Christians may have been “widely disliked,” “there was no legislation in place that required Christians to do anything that might lead them to die” (145). Okay then! Killing Christians wasn’t actually “official Roman legislation,” therefore no Christians were ever actually persecuted! If they just offered incense to the emperor and worshipped the Roman gods, they didn’t have to be killed! As Moss says, “The climate was hostile, but there was no active persecution” (145).

From Decius to Constantine
In the next portion of Chapter 4, Moss discusses the time between Decius to Constantine. In AD 250, Decius issued a decree that everyone in the Roman Empire had to sacrifice to the “genius of the emperor.” If you performed the sacrifice, you were given a libellus—basically a certificate that says you did it. Obviously, Christians throughout the empire didn’t want to do it. Some chickened out, some hid from authorities in exile, some got fake certificates, and some actually were arrested and killed for refusing to perform the decreed sacrifice. Wouldn’t the arrest and killing of Christians who refused to sacrifice to the emperor consist of being persecuted?

Not really, says Moss. Sure, Christians may have viewed Decius as evil for issuing the decree, but he was just trying to bring unity to the empire! She writes, “In principle the decree required that Christians apostatize or die. Just because Christians saw the decree as a manifestation of the work of Satan in the world, however, doesn’t mean that Christians were being persecuted. In fact, Decius may not even have had the Christians in mind when he passed the legislation” (149). And again, “By insisting that people participate in the cult, he was taking Rome back to its glory days and focusing attention and loyalty on himself. Decius’s decree was tied to a wider renewal of traditional Roman values motivated as much by politics and personal interest as by religion or anything else” (150).  Besides, it didn’t last long! Christians may have thought they were being persecuted, but Decius probably wasn’t intending to persecute them. He just wanted all Romans to be patriotic! Moss concludes, “That Christians were caught in the crosshairs of Decius’ efforts to secure his empire is deeply unfortunate, but it is not evidence of anti-Christian legislation. This is prosecution, not persecution” (151).

Candida Moss, it seems, is an Imperial Cult propagandist.

She then shifts to the next “supposed persecution” under Valerian between AD 254-260. In 257, he issued two decrees that demanded Church leaders to participate in pagan rituals and forbid Christians from meeting in cemeteries. Then in 258, he ordered that Christian bishops, priests, and deacons be immediately put to death, and that any Christian senators and officials, if they didn’t apostatize, would lose their status and property, and possibly be executed. Surely, imperial decrees specifically targeting Christians would be considered persecution, right?

Well…not so fast, says Moss! First, she begins with an astounding statement that Decius’s “persecution” must not have really been all that bad if, by the time of Valerian, there were Christian senators and officials. Second, she points out that Valerian’s decreed death penalty was only targeted to Christian officials and Church leaders. The “rank-and file Christians” he left alone. You see? Not really persecution! Valerian simply didn’t want Christianity to impact the leadership of the empire! Moss even goes so far to compare Valerian’s restrictions (and death penalty!) to how, up until 2011, the official policy of Great Britian was that the king or queen as not allowed to marry a Roman Catholic. What do you say to that kind of moronic argument?

In any case, like with her defense of Decius, Moss argues, “Valerian’s suppression of Christianity was not about persecuting Christians in general; it was about the preserving the integrity of the Roman government and limiting the influence of what was seen as a potentially destructive group” (153). Besides, says Moss, “Christians weren’t hiding in catacombs; they were out in the open” (153). Maybe she should re-read what she wrote about what Valerian’s decrees addressed, namely Christians meeting in cemeteries.

Finally, Moss addresses the “Great Persecution” that happened under Diocletian in the early 4^th century, which Moss claims to be the only real period of real persecution. Yes, Christian places of worship were destroyed, Christian scriptures were confiscated, Christian lost all legal rights and privileges, Christians lost social status, imperial freedmen were re-enslaved, and Christians had to make pagan sacrifices, etc.

BUT…when it came to Diocletian’s edict itself, Moss argues that there was quite a lot of wiggle-room! After all, “Most Christians rarely attended churches and did not own copies of Christian writings” (155). That meant, the only thing that really affected Christians was not having any legal rights in the legal process! You see? Even Diocletian’s “persecution” really wasn’t that bad!

Moss brings an end to her Chapter 4 by, once again, saying essentially, “Sure, there was some torture and some killing, but it wasn’t like the Romans were actively hunting down Christians in the middle of the night for 300 years straight!” Sure, Moss says, some Christians were treated badly, but you can’t really accept all the martyrdom accounts as reliable because they were written with a certain amount of style, show, and artistry—therefore they must be showing a contempt for history. Therefore, according to Moss, aside from only a few years here and there, there simply is no real evidence that Christians were ever actually targeted by Roman authorities.

Moss ends with this: “There’s no doubt that Christians thought they were persecuted; they ruminate on it, theologize about it, bewail, lament, protest, and complain. No should we underestimate the reality of their experiences. There is no doubt that Christians did die, that they were horrifically tortured and executed in ways that would appall people today” (160). It’s just that “Christians were not victims of sustained and continual persecution by the Romans on either an imperial or provincial level” (161).

You see? No real persecution—it was all just in the Christians’ heads! Sure, torture and killing happened, but it wasn’t like Rome was hunting Christians down for merely being Christians for 300 years straight. Besides, all the Christians had to do was offer sacrifices to the gods and to Caesar, what’s the big deal? It’s not like any of them actually attended Church or had Bibles in their houses! Besides, they probably were disturbing the peace!

Such is the academic rigor displayed by Candida Moss regarding how Christians were never really persecuted.