Arian” Church Buildings in Late Antique Rome
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Spelunca pravitatis hereticae: Gregory I and the Rededication of “Arian” Church Buildings in Late Antique Rome. Journal of Early Christian Studies, vol. 30.2.* SAMUEL COHEN This article considers the rededication of two formerly “Arian” churches, S. Severinus and S. Agata de’ Goti, by Gregory I, Bishop of Rome from 590 until 604. These rededications are investigated from three perspectives. First, I examine the historical and topographical context of the buildings. Part II considers Gregory’s motives. Without denying the practical benefits of church restorations, I argue that rededication was an inexpensive way for Gregory to display papal authority during a time of diminished resources and an opportunity to publicly perform and reinforce Rome’s orthodox Christian identity. Third, I discuss the rhetorical strategies employed by Gregory to describe the rededication of S. Agata in the Dialogues. Importantly, the story of S. Agata is part of a series of vignettes illustrating the victory of Christian orthodoxy over heresy, especially Arianism. This narrative took on added significance in the early 590s as the Lombards threatened the city of Rome. The saints chosen by Gregory to rededicate S. Agata and S. Severinus may have been intended to evoke both the Arian past and the orthodox present of these churches. And although the rituals used to make S. Agata fit for Catholic worship were not significantly different from those used to dedicate any church in late antique Rome, Gregory transformed the rededication ceremony into a dramatic story of the triumph of the city’s orthodox community, its church, and its bishop. Early in the final decade of the sixth century, a crowd gathered on the southern-most slope of the Quirinale at the edge of Subura in Rome.1 The city in this period was dramatically different than it had been even a century before. Floods, plague, and war had in recent years reduced the already shrinking population to as few as 50,000, leaving areas of the city largely abandoned.2 *This article was greatly improved thanks to the suggestions of the anonymous reviewers, as well as those of Michele Salzman, Fred Astren, Jacob Latham, Andrew Lawless, Julie Anderson, and A.P. Anderson-Cohen. The final version was prepared during my time as a 2019 research fellow at the DFG-Kollegforschergruppe, Migration und Mobilität in Spätantike und Frühmittelalter at Eberhard Karls Universität Tübingen. I would like to thank the DFG, as well as Mischa Meier, Steffen Patzold, and Sebastian Schmidt-Hofner for inviting me to participate, in addition to Fabian Völzing for helping me navigate an unfamiliar library system, and the other fellows for their insights and guidance. Finally, this research was generously supported by a RSCAP fellowship from Sonoma State University. 1 This took place in 591 or 592. 2 The population declined from approximately 800,000 around 400 C.E., to perhaps 500,000 in the fifth century, to no more than 100,000 and perhaps as few as 50,000 during Gregory’s pontificate. For population estimates, see Richard Krautheimer, Three Christian Capitals: Topography and Politics (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1983), 109; Richard Krautheimer, Rome, Profile of a City, 312–1308 (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1980), 65; Jean Durliat, “De La Ville Antique À La Ville Byzantine. Le Problème Des Subsistances,” Collection de l'École française de Rome 136 (1990): 159–60. On the situation in Rome more generally, see Charles Pietri, “La Rome De Grégoire,” 1 And now the Lombards, first Ariulf, duke of Spoleto, and subsequently King Agilulf coming from the north, threatened to sever the lines of communications linking Rome with the imperial government in Ravenna. But on this day the people had assembled for a celebration: the reconciliation of an Arianorum ecclesia. The church, known today as S. Agata dei Goti, was likely constructed in the first half of fifth century for the city’s non-Nicene (“Arian”) Christian community and may have been dedicated to Christ the Savior or perhaps Christ and the Apostles.3 Under the watchful eye of Rome’s new bishop, Gregory I (590–604), this spelunca pravitatis hereticae was rededicated to Sebastian and Agatha and thereby transformed into a space fit for orthodox Christian worship.4 To the modern visitor, Roman churches such as S. Agata appear static, almost eternal. But like all buildings, churches were repaired, renovated, expanded (or contracted), and generally adapted to changing patterns of usage over decades and centuries. It was not just the physical buildings that changed; so too did their status in the imagination of believers. Despite a hesitancy amongst early Christian authors to ascribe sacrality to particular locations, placeness was nonetheless important and became increasingly so in late antiquity.5 Worship sacralized place through prayer and ritual, and the bond between building and community was made more intimate by church names, which sometimes referred to a nebulous spiritual idea (Holy Wisdom or the Anastasis), but more typically a local or supra-local saint (the Church of S. Martin or of S. Peter).6 Church space was framed not only by the saint’s name, but also by their story, inscribed in word and in art on the building itself, and increasingly in the late ancient period, by their in Christiana Respublica. Éléments D’une Enquête Sur Le Christianisme Antique (Rome: École Française de Rome, 1997), 80–82, and Roberto Meneghini and Riccardo Santangeli Valenzani, Roma nell’Altomedioevo: topografia e urbanistica della citta dal Val X secolo (Rome: Libreria dello Stato, Istituto poligrafico e Zecca dello Stato, 2004), 21– 28. For the changing nature of the late Roman aristocracy in this period, see, for instance, Edward M. Schoolman, “Aristocracies in Early Medieval Italy, ca. 500–1000 CE.” History Compass 16, no. 11 (2018). Scholars sometimes describe Gregory’s Rome in apocalyptic terms: a “world of wars, famine, and plague,” according to Carole Straw, Gregory the Great. Authors of the Middle Ages 12. Historical and Religious Writers of the Latin West (Aldershot: Variorum/Ashgate, 1996), 1. However, without denying the suffering experienced by late sixth-century Romans, our understanding of the city in this period depends largely on Gregory’s own characterization of the early 590s, which was at least in part rhetorical. The archeological evidence suggests a more nuanced picture of habitation, and indeed, of economic and social life. See, for instance, Robert Coates-Stephens, “Housing in Early Medieval Rome, 500–1000 AD,” PBSR 64 (1996). 3 Ralph W. Mathisen, “Ricimer's Church in Rome: How an Arian Barbarian Prospered in a Nicene World,” in The Power of Religion in Late Antiquity, ed. Andrew Cain and Noel Lenski (Farnham: Ashgate, 2009), 310–11. 4 Gregory I, Ep. 4.19, Registrum Epistularum, ed. Dag Norberg, CCL 140 (Turnhout: Brepols: 1982), 237: spelunca pravitatis hereticae. 5 On the (often conflicted) attitudes of early Christian attitudes towards sacred space, see Harold W Turner, From Temple to Meeting House: The Phenomenology and Theology of Places of Worship, vol. 16 (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1979), 114-130; P. W. L. Walker, Holy City Holy Places?: Christian Attitudes to Jerusalem and the Holy Land in the Fourth Century (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1990), 67–70. 6 In this context, it is useful to think of late antique churches as lieux de mémoire, in the well-known phrase of French historian Pierre Nola, whose purpose was to “stop time, to block the work of forgetting, to establish a state of things, to immortalize death, to material the immaterial. See Pierre Nora, "Between Memory and History: Les Lieux De Mémoire," Representations, no. 26 (1989): 19. 2 physical remains or non-corporeal relics.7 It therefore follows that when a church like S. Agata was renamed and rededicated, there must have been something peculiar about the circumstances that necessitated the elision of its previous history and/or the imposition of a new identity. This occurred in a variety of circumstances. Some churches slowly assumed new appellations over a period of decades or centuries. The shifting names of Rome’s tituli are examples of this phenomenon.8 Churches that underwent substantial rebuilding or renovation could also be renamed, providing benefactors and ecclesiastical authorities an opportunity to rebrand the building for a new context.9 And churches were generally given new names when they were reconciled from heretical or sectarian Christians, as was the case with S. Agata. In late antique Italy, the heretics in question were the Ostrogoths and during Gregory I’s pontificate, the Lombards, who were both associated with “Arianism.”10 7 Ann Marie Yasin, Saints and Church Spaces in the late antique Mediterranean: Architecture, Cult, and Community (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), 189–208. The prohibition of burial within the city walls was observed, with the odd exception for extraordinary persons, well into Late antiquity. See J. M. C. Toynbee, Death and Burial in the Roman World (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1971), 48–49. On the development of relics and its relationship to altars, see Robin M. Jensen, "Saints’ Relics and the Consecration of Church Buildings in Rome," Studia Patristica LXXI (2014): 155 and n5 with references; Gillian Vallance Mackie, Early Christian Chapels in the West: Decoration, Function and Patronage (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2003), 6; John Crook, Architectural Setting of the Cult of Saints in the Early Christian West, c. 300–1200 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2000), 12–13. 8 Especially between the fourth and sixth centuries these buildings, which are generally thought to have been originally named for their founders using the formula titulus of X, took on saintly appellations. For example, the church known today as S. Maria in Trastevere was known in the time of Symmachus (495–514) as the titulus Iuli (Acta Synhodorum Habitarum Romae I [Acta Synhodi a.