Peccatrix Ecclesia: Hilary of Poitiers's De Mysteriis As Biblical Ecclesiology

Peccatrix Ecclesia: Hilary of Poitiers's De Mysteriis as Biblical Ecclesiology

Alex Fogleman

Journal of Early Christian Studies, Volume 28, Number 1, Spring 2020, pp. 33-59 (Article)

Published by Johns Hopkins University Press DOI: https://doi.org/10.1353/earl.2020.0001

For additional information about this article https://muse.jhu.edu/article/750935

[ This content has been declared free to read by the pubisher during the COVID-19 pandemic. ] Peccatrix Ecclesia: Hilary of Poitiers’s De Mysteriis as Biblical Ecclesiology

ALEX FOGLEMAN

This article considers Hilary of Poitiers’s De mysteriis as an example of patristic reflection on the nature of the church. While it has often been recognized as an exegetical work, this treatise also provides a rare account of the biblical foundations of the church and its relation to Christ. Throughout the work, Hilary consistently relates how the Old Testament ought to be read as containing the mystery of Christ and the church. In particular, he highlights the church’s sinful-yet-graced relation to Christ. The church is a sinful church—what Hilary calls a peccatrix ecclesia—that becomes sanctified through the church’s bond with Christ the sinless bridegroom. This article furthermore situates Hilary’s treatise in the context of pro-Nicene responses to the councils of Ariminum and Seleucia in 359 and the decisions made at the council of Alexandria in 362. Hilary’s moderate position towards bishops who “lapsed” by subscribing to the Homoian creed at Ariminum—against the more rigorist position of someone like Lucifer of Cagliari—accords with the sober reflections on the sinful makeup of the church in the De mysteriis.

INTRODUCTION: WRITING THE CHURCH IN THE PATRISTIC AGE To refer to ecclesiology in the early church is largely an exercise in anach- ronism. The church as a distinct subject of theological reflection was rare until much later—one could safely say not until the sixteenth century, when the notion of a so-called true church was thrown into sharp relief.1 Much

I would like to thank Daniel H. Williams and the two reviewers at JECS for their insightful comments on earlier drafts of this paper. 1. Mark Edwards, “Early Ecclesiology in the West,” in The Oxford Handbook of Ecclesiology, ed. Paul Avis (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2018), 164. M. A. Fahey,

Journal of Early Christian Studies 28:1, 33–59 © 2020 Johns Hopkins University Press 34 JOURNAL OF EARLY CHRISTIAN STUDIES more pressing for the majority of early Christians in the fourth century was the person of Christ, and specifically how the divine nature of the Son was to be related to the divinity of the Father. That is not to say that early Christians were unreflective or uninterested in the church, especially in North Africa.2 However, the kind of ecclesial reflection that occurred in early Christianity was occasional, typically emerging in response to the kinds of separatist or rigorist movements that sought a pure church in response to what was seen as moral failure. Cyprian’s writings against the Novationists come quickly to mind, as do Augustine’s writings against the Donatists. Hilary of Poitiers’s De mysteriis shows signs of having been forged in similar circumstances as other rigorist controversies, as I will demonstrate below, but it is also somewhat unique in its sustained, concise attempt to establish the biblical foundations of the church—a product of its catechetical rather than more strictly polemical intent.3 In this libellus,4 written in the early 360s as an exegetical handbook for Gallican catechesis, Hilary consistently relates how the Old Testament ought to be read as containing the mystery of Christ and the church. His allegorical readings of the select biblical passages are rarely novel, but the way in which he arranges this material into a thematic unity, developing an exegetical rule out of the Christ-church relationship, makes this work about as close as one could get to a treatise on the church. In particular, one of the key ecclesial motifs Hilary presents is the church’s graced relation to Christ. The church is a sinful church—what Hilary would be so bold as to call a peccatrix ecclesia—that is sanctified through the church’s bond with the sinless bridegroom.5 The church is the “younger brother,” as Jacob was

“Augustine’s Ecclesiology Revisited,” in Augustine: From Rhetor to Theologian, ed. J. McWilliam (Waterloo: Wilfrid Laurier University Press, 1992), 173, comments: for Augustine “as with other theologians up to Thomas Aquinas and beyond, separate theological treatises de natura ecclesiae sanctae were not envisaged.” 2. J. Patout Burns Jr. and Robin M. Jensen, Christianity in Roman Africa: The Development of Its Practices and Beliefs (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2014), xlvi–xlviii, argue that Latin-speaking African theology constitutes an alternative school to Alex- andrian theology following Origen: “Whereas those Greeks focused their concern with salvation on the nature of the Godhead and its manifestation in Christ, these Latins worried about the adequacy of human organization and ministers to mediate the divine life . . . . African theology focused on the role of the church as the medium of Christ’s salvific work and therefore on the church’s holiness and the efficacy of its rituals.” 3. For references to this text, I have used Traité des mystères, ed. Jean-Paul Brisson, SC 19 bis. (Paris: Éditions du Cerf, 1967). 4. Myst. 1.1 (SC 19:72). 5. Myst. 2.9 (SC 19:154). FOGLEMAN / PECCATRIX ECCLESIA 35 to Esau, who has in a dramatic reversal been granted the older brother’s birthright.6 Through the church’s union with Christ and generation of faithful believers, its confession of faith in the incarnate Word, and its election and Spirit-indwelled sacramental life, the church comes to realize its derivative and dependent holiness. The themes of the church’s holiness and sinfulness would have been particularly germane given the context in which Hilary was writing in the 360s. In particular, the aftermath of the councils of Ariminum and Seleucia in 359 and the decisions made at the council of Alexandria in response (362) constituted something of a rigorist controversy in the early 360s among pro-Nicene bishops, which would have warranted the kind of reflection on the nature of the church found in Hilary’s De mysteriis. If Hilary is seen to take a more moderate position towards pro-Nicene bishops who “lapsed” by signing off on the Homoian Dated Creed at Ariminum—against the more rigorist position of someone like Lucifer of Cagliari—then we have a likely context to account for Hilary’s sober account of the sinful makeup of the church. I do not claim that the rigorist controversy—if it indeed can be called a controversy—was the immediate or even primary reason for the writing of this text. Its more direct context seems to be the simple exposition of the biblical narrative in catechetical preaching. Nonethe- less, the ecclesial themes developed in the De mysteriis are surprisingly apt given these tumultuous circumstances. The relationship between this treatise and the pro-Nicene controversies thus warrants further reflection. Studies of Hilary’s ecclesiology are not lacking. Yet most have sought to glean Hilary’s thoughts about the church from across the spectrum of his writings, and so to establish a more abstract account of Hilary’s doctrine of the church.7 My aim here is much less ambitious, but hopefully equally instructive. Attending to the De mysteriis as a stand-alone text will enable a better view of how Hilary would have narrated an ecclesial identity for a more general, catechetical audience in 360s Gaul. This was certainly

6. Myst. 1.20–26 (SC 19:110–20). 7. See, for example, Albert Charlier, “L’Eglise corpus du Christ chez saint Hilaire de Poitiers,” ETL 41 (1965): 451–77; Richard Foley, “The Ecclesiology of Hilary of Poitiers” (PhD Diss., Harvard University, 1968); Michael Figura, Das Kirchenverständ nis des Hilarius von Poitiers (Freiberg: Herder, 1984); Guillermo Bruno Colautti, Las figuras eclesiológicas en San Hilario de Poitiers (Rome: Pontificia Universita Gregori- ana, 2005). Foley’s dissertation does prima facie seem to expound Hilary’s De mys teriis as an ecclesiological text, but methodologically he is more concerned to find parallel emphases in Hilary’s other writings, such as the De Trinitate, Tractatus super Psalmos, and In Matthaeum, rather than expound the De mysteriis itself. 36 JOURNAL OF EARLY CHRISTIAN STUDIES not everything he had to say about the nature and identity of the church, or even the church’s relationship to Christ, but it does give us important insight into his emphases for this particular time, place, and purpose.

REBUILDING A FRAGMENTED CHURCH: 360S GAUL AND THE CONTEXT OF THE DE MYSTERIIS Most scholars agree that the De mysteriis was written sometime in the early to mid-360s, after Hilary returned from his exile in Phrygia from roughly 356 to 360.8 We know relatively little about Hilary’s activity during the post-exilic phase, which is surprising given that this was precisely when Hilary’s anti-Arian campaign, along with Eusebius of Vercelli, did so much to dismantle Homoian strongholds in the West.9 Western knowledge of the Nicene controversies was mostly negligent throughout the first half of the fourth century, but had become much stronger by the late 350s leading up to the councils of Ariminum (in the West) and Seleucia (in the East) in 359. It was the aftermath of these councils that would send the churches in Italy, Gaul, and Spain into shock for the next several years, and would eventually serve as the impetus for a more cohesive pro-Nicene position. The large turnout at Ariminum—possibly some 400 bishops10—and its being called simultaneously with Seleucia (at which the exiled Hilary was present) at the behest of Constantius II made this a pivotal event in the fourth-century controversies.11 In the first iteration of the council, the attendees were given the moderately worded Dated Creed, which proposed

8. Brisson, “Introduction,” in SC 19:57; Charles Kannengiesser, Handbook of Patristic Exegesis: The Bible in Ancient Christianity (Leiden: Brill, 2006), 1002. On Hilary’s exile and knowledge of the so-called “Arian controversy,” see C. F. A. Bor- chardt, Hilary of Poitiers’ Role in the Arian Struggle (The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff, 1966); Daniel H. Williams, “A Reassessment of the Early Career and Exile of Hilary of Poitiers,” JEH 42 (1991): 202–17; T. D. Barnes, “Hilary of Poitiers on His Exile,” VC 46, no. 2 (1992): 129–40; Carl L. Beckwith, “The Condemnation and Exile of Hilary of Poitiers at the Synod of Béziers (356 C.E.),” JECS 13, no. 1 (2005): 21–38. 9. Daniel H. Williams, Ambrose of Milan and the End of the Arian-Nicene Conflicts (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1995), 39–40, notes the unfortunate fact that the period after Hilary’s exile, which is the most significant for his role in establishing the dominance of pro-Nicene theology in the West, is the least known period of Hilary’s career. See Y.-M. Duval, “Vrais et faux problèmes concernant le retour d’exil d’Hilaire de Poitiers et son action en Italie en 360–363,” Athenaeum 48 (1970): 251–75. 10. Sulpicius Severus, Chron. 2.41 (CCL 63:98); Sozomen, HE 4.17 (SC 418:270). 11. On this council, see R. P. C. Hanson, The Search for the Christian Doctrine of God: The Arian Controversy, 318–381 (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 1988; repr. 2005), 371–80; Williams, Ambrose, 22–37. FOGLEMAN / PECCATRIX ECCLESIA 37 the Son as “like in all things according to Scripture.”12 When the bishops reached a stalemate, Constantius sent the delegates back with an even firmer demand that the two parties come to an agreement, this time with the slightly revised Niké Creed, which was similar to the Dated Creed but with the crucial modification of changing “like in all things” to simply “like.”13 Then, in a surprising turn of events, nearly all the bishops at Ariminum, excepting about twenty, signed off on the creed.14 It is unclear the precise reason for this seeming about-face—no doubt a good deal of exhaustion—but Jerome reports that many bishops returned to their sees happy with the results.15 Among the most surprising bishops to sign were the aged Ossius of Cordova, who had been present at Nicaea, and Phoebadius of Agen, who had only two years previously penned an anti- Homoian treatise in response to the Sirmium manifesto (357).16 Soon after the council, it became clear what disastrous consequences such a subscrip- tion entailed. While Sulpicius Severus emphasized the political coercion due to the presence of the praetorian prefect Taurus,17 Jerome stressed the primary agency of the Arian bishop Valens.18 A council of bishops that met in Paris in 360 or 361 presented Ariminum in the strongest terms as a moment of “fraud” by heretical groups, who had played upon western confusions and their willingness to defer to eastern authority.19 Regardless of the precise reasons, Ariminum was soon considered a huge defeat for the pro-Nicene party, and it was for this occasion that Jerome offered his famously histrionic lament: “The whole world groaned and was aston- ished to find itself Arian.”20

12. Recorded in Hilary, Frg. B.6.3 (CSEL 65:163; trans. Lionel Wickham, Hilary of Poitiers: Conflicts of Conscience and Law in the Fourth-Century Church [Liver- pool: Liverpool University Press, 1997], 103): . . . filium similem patri per omnia, ut sanctae dicunt et docent scripturae. 13. Sulpicius Severus, Chron. 2.41–43 (CCL 63:98–100; ACW 70:168–71). 14. Sulpicius Severus, Chron. 2.43 (CCL 63:100). 15. Jerome, Lucif. 19 (CCL 79B:49). Sulpicius Severus, Chron. 2.43 (CCL 63:100), attributes the demise to travel fatigue. 16. Timothy D. Barnes, Athanasius and Constantius: Theology and Politics in the Constantinian Empire (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1993), 141. 17. Sulpicius Severus, Chron. 2.41 (CCL 63:99). 18. Jerome, Lucif. 18–19 (CCL 79B:48–49). 19. Hilary, Frg. A.1.1 (CSEL 65:43–44; Wickham, Hilary of Poitiers, 93). This interpretation is echoed by Rufinus, HE 10.22 (GCS 9.2:988). On the question of fraus, see Williams, Ambrose, 30–31. 20. Jerome, Lucif. 19 (CCL 79B:48; NPNF 6:329): Ingemuit totus orbis, et Aria num se esse miratus est. 38 JOURNAL OF EARLY CHRISTIAN STUDIES

The debate over lapsed bishops at Ariminum was one of the main reasons for the council held at Alexandria in 362, and its results would have significant ramifications for the western sees.21 With Constantius deceased, and Julian having allowed exiled bishops to return to their sees, Athanasius headed the synod, and it was there proposed that any penitent “Arians” should be welcomed back into communion. With the two documents that resulted from this council—the Epistula Catholica and the Tomus ad Antio chenos—a new pro-Nicene policy took effect: one need only condemn the Arian heresy and consent to the Nicene Creed, with no further questions asked as to its interpretation.22 Regardless of whether bishops had formerly agreed to the Homoian position at Ariminum, if they could now affirm these requirements, they should be welcomed into fellowship.23 Eusebius of Vercelli, who was present at Alexandria, was tasked with delivering the results to Antioch and then to the western sees,24 where it is likely he met with Liberius in Rome.25 Liberius’s letter to the Italian bishops shows him assenting to the new policy, discouraging “harshness” and encouraging his fellow bishops to receive anyone who “returns to their senses.”26 Eusebius’s leading role in the conciliatory strategy after Alexandria suggests a tem- pering of an earlier hardline position exhibited in a letter to the Spanish

21. Barnes, Athanasius and Constantius, 155–58. Williams, Ambrose, 64–65, writes: “The primary ecclesiastical-political concern at the main session of the synod was how to deal with those bishops who were seeking to dissociate themselves from the compromise they had made at Ariminum and Seleucia.” 22. For a different view, see Tom Elliot, “Was the Tomus ad Antiochenos a Pacific Document?” JEH 58, no. 1 (2007): 1–8, who defends Hanson’s and Edward Shwartz’s position that the Tomus is “yet another piece of ecclesiastical politics” (7). 23. Jerome, Lucif. 20 (CCL 79B:52) writes of the council of Alexandria that, “except for those authors of heresies who could not be excused because of error, penitents should be joined to the church—not that they who had been heretics could be bishops, but that that those who are received had not been heretics.” Rufinus, HE 10.29 (GCS 9.2:991–92; FC 133:421–22), provides a theological account of the moderate position. While “some fervent spirits” sought to refuse to the priesthood any who had “stained himself by communion with the heretics,” others imitated Christ by hum- bling themselves for the salvation of others (alluding to Phil 2.6–10). The moderate party, Rufinus explains, “said that it was better to humble themselves a little for the sake of those cast down, and bend a little for the sake of those crushed, that they might raise them up again and not keep the kingdom of heaven for themselves alone on account of their purity . . . . Nor should they deny admission to those returning, but should rather rejoice at their return, because the younger son in the gospel too, who had wasted his father’s property, merited not only to be taken back when he had come to his senses, but was regarded as worthy of his father’s embraces and received the ring of faith and had the robe put on him.” 24. Athanasius, Tom. 1 (PG 26:795). 25. Williams, Ambrose of Milan, 68. 26. Hilary, Frg. B.4.1–2 (CSEL 65:156–57; Wickham, Hilary of Poitiers, 96–97). FOGLEMAN / PECCATRIX ECCLESIA 39 bishop Gregory of Elvira, where he had commended Gregory’s resolve in holding out against the “very many who fell at Ariminum.”27 Gregory’s position is more difficult to surmise. While he would later be claimed as a supporter of the more stringent Luciferian position, it is doubtful whether his purist inclinations were enacted through ecclesiastical communion.28 By far the most vociferous dissent to the decisions made at Alexandria came from Lucifer of Cagliari. Lucifer was a former friend and ally of Eusebius of Vercelli. The two had been conjointly expelled from their sees at a council in Arles in 353 for refusing to condemn Athanasius, and both were subsequently exiled in the Thebaid until Julian’s recall.29 Lucifer did not attend the council of Alexandria but sent two deacons on his behalf and was himself one of the designated recipients of the Tomus.30 Whether his non-attendance was due to an undue confidence that the council would affirm a hardline pro-Nicene position or whether he thought such a result was a foregone conclusion is debatable.31 Lucifer was in some sense bound to accept the decisions at Alexandria due to the participation of his dia- conal emissaries.32 Nonetheless, he soon made his displeasure known. Socrates and Sozomen comment on his irritation at the lenient position of the council, and Sulpicius Severus affirms that he withheld from communion any bishop who had signed the confession at Ariminum.33 Instead

27. Hilary, Frg. A.2.1–2 (CSEL 65:46–47; Wickham, Hilary of Poitiers, 95–96). The change of view once suggested to scholars that this letter was a Luciferian forgery, but this view has largely been dismissed. For a discussion, see Williams, Ambrose, 50n66. 28. Faustinus and Marcellinus, authors of the Libellus precum (ca. 380) depict Gregory as a supporter of the Luciferian party, but the evidence of his actual participation is much more dubious. See Karl Shuve, “The Episcopal Career of Gregory of Elvira,” JTS 65, no. 2 (2014): 247–62. 29. Socrates, HE 3.5 (SC 493:272). 30. Socrates, HE 3.6 (SC 493:272), and Sozomen, HE 5.12 (SC 495:148), report only one deacon sent by Lucifer. Athanasius, Tom. 9 (PG 26:808), cites two— Herennius and Agapetus. 31. Williams, Ambrose, 64–65, concludes “that Lucifer had every confidence that a synod under Athanasius’s leadership would arrive at decisions acceptable to him, whereupon he immediately took himself to Antioch.” Giuseppe Corti, Lucifero di Cagliari: Una voce nel conflitto tra chiesa e impero alla metà del IV secolo (Milan: Vita e Pensiero, 2004), 157, suggests that a moderate Athanasian stance was for Lucifer a forgone conclusion, and thus his efforts would be better directed toward Antioch. 32. Rufinus, HE 10.31 (GCS 9.2:993). 33. Socrates, HE 3.9 (SC 493:290); Sozomen, HE 5.13 (SC 495:154). Theodoret, HE 3.5 (SC 530:112) does not so much comment on Lucifer’s disposition, but notes that his hasty ordination of Paulinus made the already fractious Antiochene church none the better. Sulpicius Severus, Chron. 2.45 (CCL 63:102–3; ACW 70:174), records that Lucifer “condemned those who had met at Rimini [Ariminum] to such an extent that he continued to disassociate himself from communion with those who had been readmitted after satisfaction of penance.” 40 JOURNAL OF EARLY CHRISTIAN STUDIES of attending Alexandria, Lucifer had gone to Antioch where he took the injudicious step of ordaining Paulinus as a bishop. The pro-Nicene church at Antioch was already bitterly divided among the followers of Melitius and Eustathius (both at variance with the Homoian bishop Euzoïus), and Lucifer’s ordination of Paulinus, a presbyter under the now deceased Eustathius, only exacerbated these tensions. When Eusebius arrived in Antioch, he was nonplussed by Lucifer’s actions, and Lucifer in turn became angry with Eusebius. Socrates and Sozomen suggest that it was at least in part due to Eusebius’s disapproval that Lucifer began disparaging the decisions at Alexandria, resulting in both men’s frustrated departure to their respective sees in Italy, and the germination of the group that would be called “Luciferians.”34 The extent and cohesion of a so-called Luciferian party is another point of contention. Rufinus allows that Lucifer may have eventually repented, and Jerome speaks more amicably about the man himself rather than his followers.35 G. F. Diercks has accordingly raised doubts about the extent to which Lucifer himself should be linked with a full-fledged Luciferian party.36 More recently, Javier Mas has proposed instead the deacon Hilary, a Sardinian native and later deacon of Rome, as the true instigator of a schismatic group.37 Karl Shuve has questioned the validity of ascribing to the Luciferians the formal designation of “church party,” opting instead for the nomenclature of “alliance” to designate the more informal and ad hoc nature of the various rigorist groups associated with anti-Arianism.38

34. Rufinus, HE 10.31 (GCS 9.2:994) labels it a “Luciferianorum schisma.” Socrates, HE 3.9 (SC 493:290), and Sozomen, HE 5.13 (SC 495:154), refer to it as a “hairesis.” Theodoret, HE 3.5 SC 530:112), refers simply to a group of Luciferians who were loyal to Lucifer’s teachings. 35. Rufinus, HE 10.31 (GCS 9.2:993–94); Jerome, Lucif. 20 (CCL 79B:52). 36. G. F. Diercks, “Introduction,” in CCL 8:xxxi–xxxv. 37. Javier Pérez Mas, La crisis luciferiana: Un intento de reconstrucción histórica (Rome: Institutum Patristicum Augustinianum, 2008). To which he adds that the Luciferians of the 380s were not a continuation, but a revival of the “Hilarian schism,” seeking inspiration from Lucifer and attempting to solidify further networks of reso- lutely anti-Arian bishops like Gregory of Elvira. On Hilary of Rome, see Jerome, Lucif. 21, 25–26. 38. Shuve, “Gregory of Elvira,” 255: “In recent scholarship, the notion of an ‘alliance’ or ‘ecclesial alliance’ has been used instead of ‘church party’ to name groups or networks that arise because of some common value or are formed for the promotion of a specific agenda in the ecclesiastical sphere. These values or agendas may or may not be theological. Such groups are characterised by features such as the performance of ecclesiastical communion, sufficient doctrinal agreement with respect to both principles and terminologies, the struggle with common enemies, the activity of mutual defence, the exercise of public ecclesio-political support, loyalty to revered figures, FOGLEMAN / PECCATRIX ECCLESIA 41

It is problematic, Shuve cautions, to argue based on later Luciferian texts from the 380s for a coherent faction in the 360s. While Lucifer main- tained contact with Gregory of Elvira and other eastern rigorist groups at Eleutheropolis and Oxyrynchus, one cannot “argue for the existence of a cohesive, empire-wide alliance that operated under the direction of a single leader.”39 Instead, “it is possible only to speak with confidence of a Lucife- rian alliance that is confined primarily to Rome and Suburbicarian Italy.”40 Nonetheless, the lack of a formal Luciferian church party during the 360s should not cause us to underappreciate the fractious nature of these years for the pro-Nicene church. While we need not legitimate more coherence to those in communion with Lucifer than is necessary, it is still warranted to label this a legitimate “rigorist controversy” within the pro- Nicene church, especially given that the council of Alexandria attempted to provide a standard policy, and we cannot assume that everyone besides Lucifer unreservedly adapted its terms. The point of describing this as a rigorist controversy, however, is not simply to locate a coherent dissenting party. Rather, what is important to see is that a variety of positions were available as to what constituted faithfulness to Nicaea. Lucifer and Hil- ary of Rome present one approach. Athanasius and Eusebius of Vercelli provide interesting case studies of those who previously took harder positions and then allowed for compromise. Gregory of Elvira seems to have fallen somewhere in the middle—maintaining some contact with Lucife- rian groups while not affiliating with them formally. Simply put, multiple responses to Ariminum were possible. It now stands to see where Hilary of Poitiers fits into this picture. Hilary’s whereabouts during this time are not well documented, and mostly they concern the unflagging successes of his anti-Arian campaigns. Sulpicius reports that upon Hilary’s return from exile, his former nemesis Saturninus had been deposed, which sapped the strength of any major resistance to Hilary in Gaul.41 It seems that Hilary stopped in Rome along his way back from exile to Gaul, where it is possible he met with Liberi- us.42 Rufinus tells us that Hilary went to Italy and from there, “strove for

local ecclesiastical traditions, and personal friendship. No single feature, value or agenda is necessary to constitute an ecclesial alliance, and individuals or individual Churches may be part of a larger ecclesial alliance for different reasons.” 39. Shuve, “Gregory of Elvira,” 259. 40. Shuve, “Gregory of Elvira,” 256. 41. Sulpicius Severus, Chron. 2.45 (CCL 63:102). Saturninus was responsible in some measure for Hilary’s deposition and exile in 356 at Bitterae. 42. Sulpicius Severus, Mart. 6–7 (CSEL 1:117; FC 7:112). See Williams, Ambrose of Milan, 45–46, for this reconstruction. 42 JOURNAL OF EARLY CHRISTIAN STUDIES the restoration of the churches, endeavoring to recover the faith of the fathers.”43 He seems to have had some influence on a synod at Paris in 361 or 362.44 At the foreground of this council, too, was the state of affairs in the wake of Ariminum.45 Sometime in 362, he made the acquaintance of Eusebius of Vercelli, where the two continued their anti-Arian campaigns, where, in Rufinus’s sunny explanation, “these two men, like two great lights of the world, lit up Illyricum, Italy, and Gaul with their brightness, so that all the darkness of heresy was driven from even the most remote and hidden corners.”46 Hilary’s stance on Lucifer cannot be assessed with surety, but we can be reasonably confident, given his close association with Eusebius in the years following 362, as well as his travels in Rome, that he was both abreast of the controversial situation regarding Lucifer and accepted Alexandria’s declarations. There is no reason to distrust Rufi- nus’s depiction of Hilary as irenic and conciliatory in his persuasive efforts towards bishops during this period.47 Rufinus elsewhere mentions a libel lum instructionis plenissmime of Hilary’s written for the “emendation” of those who had subscribed to Ariminum.48 Finally, there is no evidence to suggest (in contrast to Gregory of Elvira) that Hilary was ever sym- pathetic to Lucifer’s case. On the contrary, Hilary is represented by later Luciferian supporters Marcellinus and Faustinus as one who, although previously taking a hard stance against Arians, afterwards came to “show favor to the prevaricators.”49 In the memory of two members committed to Lucifer’s strongly anti-Arian position, even a staunch Nicene defender such as Hilary was viewed with circumspection. This brief summation of the scene in Gaul in the early 360s, while admit- tedly sketchy, gives us a likely if cautious postulation about the context of Hilary’s De mysteriis in the 360s. It seems that, while the anti-Arian campaigns of Hilary and Eusebius were relatively successful in Gaul, the situation concerning the rigorism of Lucifer and any potential early Lucife- rians left the pro-Nicene church in a state of fracture. If so, this gives us

43. Rufinus, HE 10.31 (GCS 9.2:994; FC 133:426). 44. Hilary, Frg. A.1.2–3 (CSEL 65:44–45; Wickham, Hilary of Poitiers, 93–94). His strategy of presenting Nicene theology over against the subordinationism of the Arians and the monarchianism of the Sabellians—in a fashion similar to De synodis and De Trinitate—is on display in the encyclical letter issuing from this council. See Lewis Ayres, Nicaea and Its Legacy (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004), 177–78. 45. Hilary, Frg. A.1.1 (CSEL 65:43–44; Wickham, Hilary of Poitiers, 93). 46. Rufinus, HE 10.32 (GCS 9.2:994; FC 133:426). 47. Rufinus, HE 10.32 (GCS 9.2:994). 48. Rufinus, Adult. libr. Orig. (CCL 20:14). 49. Ep. 2.24 (CSEL 35:12). See Williams, Ambrose, 168n142. FOGLEMAN / PECCATRIX ECCLESIA 43 reason to consider why Hilary would have devoted a tract to the biblical foundations of the church, which, while containing hints of anti-Homoian teaching, is much more concerned with the ecclesially compromised status of the church.50 The relative absence of anti-Homoian polemic makes sense if Hilary’s adversaries in Gaul were largely removed, and Hilary and Eusebius’s campaigns were indeed successful. By comparison, the case in Milan was much different, where the Homoian threat for Ambrose was much more vigorous. Again, this can only be a tentative hypothesis, since we lack any definitive internal clues in the De mysteriis that reference the councils. However, if there are any parallels with opposition to other rigorist movements, such as the controversies that resulted in response to the Novationists and Donatists, then it may be possible to see Hilary’s ecclesiological emphasis in the De mysteriis as the product of a crisis over the nature of the church. When the ability to locate the true church becomes jeopardized—as it had after the council of Ariminum—it would be the task of an able bishop to reestablish the biblical foundations for the church.

A HANDBOOK FOR CATECHETICAL EXEGESIS: GENRE AND AUDIENCE OF THE DE MYSTERIIS Having gained a clearer picture of the circumstances that accompanied the writing of the De mysteriis, we can situate these with reference to the genre and audience of the text. Once again, Hilary does not present here a timeless ecclesiology but a biblical exposition of the church for a specific purpose: in this case, outlining principles of Old Testament exegesis for use in catechetical contexts. That his treatise is an exegetical work is not a controversial point in scholarship, but the chief reasons for considering it a catechetical treatise are worth mentioning briefly here for the sake of understanding the text’s purpose in its broader context.51 As a catechetical text, we should not expect Hilary to mention explicitly the current doctrinal-political controversies, but rather to offer pastoral teaching that is nonetheless informed by those debates.

50. See Myst. 2.14 (SC 19:160) for the clearest statement of anti-Homoian theology. Doignon also considers the extent to which Hilary’s concern for the state of the church was exacerbated by the imperial influence on ecclesial affairs. See JeanDoignon, “Un cri d’alarme d’Hilaire de Poitiers sur la situation de l’Église à son retour d’exil,” RHE 85, no. 2 (1990): 281–90. 51. Brisson (SC 19:58) allows that its audience is catechetical but suggests its goals are much broader. 44 JOURNAL OF EARLY CHRISTIAN STUDIES

Taking stock of the overall work, the De mysteriis presents itself as an abbreviated form of how to interpret the Old Testament salvation story as a whole, which is typical of early Christian catechetical exegesis.52 This was precisely the way in which Augustine, for instance, advised the Car- thaginian priest Deogratias to teach the Bible in De catechizandis rudibus (ca. 400). There Augustine explained that “the narratio is complete” when each catechumen is taught the biblical story from the beginning of the book of Genesis “to the present period of the church’s history.”53 This does not imply, Augustine qualifies, that the catechumen must have every book memorized, nor that the instructor has to expand upon everything written there.54 Rather, the catechist ought “to give a general summary sketch of all the content in such a way that a certain number of quite remarkable events are selected, ones that our listeners find particularly appealing and that constitute the critical historical turning points.”55 Details can then be woven into the overall narrative, but in order to avoid exhaustion and confusion, the instructor must first establish the overall narrative. This tactic was precisely what Hilary sought to do in the De mysteriis. Though he does not cover the entire story from Genesis on up to the time of the church (at least in the extant text), he does provide a glimpse of the more appealing turning points of the Old Testament narrative, organized into the broader scope of salvation history.56 Second, the exegetical style of the De mysteriis is that of a sort of com- pendium of the intricate and artful exegesis in which Hilary was fluent, but which he presents here in a simplified manner.57 Hilary’s pre-exilic

52. The origins of this kind of historical narration in catechesis can be traced back at least to Irenaeus, on which see Everett Ferguson, “Irenaeus’ Proof of the Apostolic Preaching and Early Catechetical Instruction,” in The Early Church at Work and Worship, Vol. 2: Catechesis, Baptism, Eschatology, and Martyrdom (Eugene: Wipf & Stock, 2014), 1–18. 53. Augustine, Catech. 3.5 (CCL 46:124; trans. Raymond Canning, Instructing Beginners in the Faith [Hyde City, NY: New City Press, 2006], 63). 54. Augustine, Catech. 3.5 (CCL 46:125; Canning, Instructing Beginners, 64). 55. Augustine, Catech. 3.5 (CCL 46:125; Canning, Instructing Beginners, 64): . . . cuncta summatim generatimque complecti, ita ut eligantur quaedam mirbiliora, quae suauius adiunter atque in ipsis articulis constituta sunt. 56. Brisson (SC 19:56) writes: “C’est l’intégralité de l’Ancien Testament qu’il vise ici, et si en fait nos tractatus ne portent que sur un nombre très limité de passages scripturaires, l’unité de l’interprétation est évidente et il semble qu’Hilaire ait voulu, non pas nous interpréter tel ou tel point de l’Écriture, mais nous découvirir à l’aide de quelques exemples le sens de tout l’Ancien Testament, cette annonce du Christ et de son Église que nous retrouvons toujours identique a elle-meme sous la variété des figures que la pédagogie divine a disponsées pour nous la faire entendre.” 57. Brisson (SC 19:58–60) highlights this feature of the De mysteriis as its most unique aspect. FOGLEMAN / PECCATRIX ECCLESIA 45 commentary on the Gospel of Matthew shows him to be well versed in allegorical exegesis, so it is difficult to maintain that his allegorizing was something he learned from reading Origen during his eastern sojourn.58 Rather, Hilary inherited an already developing Latin exegetical tradition, which included the allegorical exegesis of Victorinus of Poetovia, the theological and philosophical exegesis of Tertullian, and the practical and pastoral exegesis of Cyprian. It would be unnecessary to preclude any Origenist influence, but it is also oversimplifying to presume that the presence of allegorical exegesis entails an eastern influence. Regardless, what is notable about Hilary’s allegorizing in the De mysteriis is that his artfulness and skill as an exegete are presented here in a more condensed, simplified form, which would make it more duplicatable in a catechetical context. Third, a number of internal references to the rites of initiation further suggest a catechetical context. The lengthiest exposition of any one pericope is the story of Moses. There Hilary makes explicit connections to the rites of baptism (in the wood that turns the waters of Merah sweet) and the eucharist (in the collection of the manna).59 And at least on one occasion he mentions the mystagogic rites explicitly. In explicating the last of the three signs that God gives to Moses (Exod 4.9), Hilary finds the water drawn from the river that turns into blood a “figure of the sacrament” referring to “those who have been washed by water [who] are to arrive at the knowledge of blood”—almost certainly a reference to the fourth- century rite of initiation wherein the newly baptized promptly received their first eucharist.60

58. This is a contentious matter in Hilarian studies. Doignon (Hilaire de Poitiers avant l’exil [Paris: Études Augustiniennes, 1971], 170–90) has urged a healthy skep- ticism towards overplaying Origen’s influence, highlighting instead the many Latin Christian and classical sources available to Hilary and that are on display in the In Matthaeum. The issue is more open to interpretation in Hilary’s later works, such as the Tractatus super Psalmos. For a judicious account of Origenist influence in this text, see Paul C. Burns, A Model for the Christian Life: Hilary of Poitiers’ Com mentary on the Psalms (Washington, DC: The Catholic University of America Press, 2012), chapter 2. 59. Foley, “Ecclesiology of Hilary,” 242, concurs that the emphasis on baptism and eucharist in this, the longest section of the De mysteriis, suggests its catechetical intent. It would also explain, Foley adds, why Hilary emphasizes here the church’s connection by faith to the incarnation and the Lord’s passion, since new members would be interrogated on these matters in preparation for the rites of initiation. 60. Myst. 1.31 (SC 19:126): . . . cum uero signo tertio aqua ex fluuio sumpta et in terram fusa sit sanguis, sacramenti ratio miscetur his, siquidem qui per aquam abluti in cognitionem sint sanguinis transituri. See Doignon, “Quatre formules énigmatiques dans l’exégese d’Hilaire de Poitiers,” VC 38 (1984): 376–79. 46 JOURNAL OF EARLY CHRISTIAN STUDIES

A fourth reason that this text may be considered broadly catechetical is that it was often linked in antiquity with a set of hymns attributed to Hila- ry. 61 Hymns, during this period, were often used for didactic, catechetical purposes, as we see with, for example, Ambrose—the goal of which was to instill in simplified and memorable form the core convictions of the faith. It is interesting to note in this regard that Jerome linked Hilary’s hymns with (what is presumably) the De mysteriis in making reference in the De viris illustribus to a Liber hymnum et mysteriorum that belonged to Hila- ry. 62 Moreover, in the Codex Aretinus, the primary manuscript containing the De mysteriis, the treatise was paired with Hilary’s hymns, along with a copy of the Itinerarium Egeriae—another important catechetical document from the fourth century.63 In sum, we may say that, while the text is not a catechism per se—its scope could be seen as broader, as Brisson notes—its structure and method of exegesis would seem to be an especially helpful aid for preachers tasked with explaining the Scriptures to new Christians. Its focus on the narrative of the biblical story, its simplified allegorical method, its references to the sacramental rites, and its frequent pairing with Hilary’s catechetical hymns all suggest that the genre of the De mysteriis is best understood as a handbook of catechetical exegesis.

61. Brian Dunkle, Enchantment and Creed in the Hymns of Ambrose of Milan (Oxford: Oxford University Press: 2016), 32–36, makes this point in the context of a larger discussion of the catechetical nature of Ambrose’s hymns. 62. Jerome, Vir. ill. 100 (PL 23:739). Jerome mentions Hilary’s use of hymns in his anti-Arian project elsewhere at Gal. 1.2 (PL 26:428): Hilarius latinae eloquentiae Rhodanus, Gallus ipse et Pictauis genitus in hymnorum carmine Gallos indociles uocat. 63. On the manuscript history of De mysteriis, see Brisson, “Introduction,” in SC 19:61–68, and Foley, “Ecclesiology of Hilary,” 78–87. To summarize: The main manuscript of the De mysteriis was discovered in 1884 by Giovani Gamurrini in the library of Santa Maria della Pieve at Arezzo, with about half of the folios missing or illegible. The last page of this manuscript records the title, finit tractatus mysteriorum S. Hylarii episcopi, and has thus been linked to Jerome’s reference to Hilary’s Liber mysteriorum (Vir. ill. 100). Gamurrini published the text in 1887, and about twenty years later, Wilmart established that this manuscript originated from the monastery of Monte Cassino, mentioned in a catalogue of Leo of Ostia in 1070, and now pre- served in the library of Arezzo as Codex Aretinus VI, 3s, XI. D. A Wilmart, “Le De mysteriis de saint Hilaire au Mont-Cassin,” RBen 27 (1910): 12–21. Wilmart further recognized that another manuscript at Monte Cassino, the Scolia in quaestionibus Veteris Testaminti by Peter the Deacon, contained summaries or citations of Hilary’s De mysteriis, and thus supplied some of the missing pages from the Aretinus manuscript. After Brisson’s SC edition was published, a further treatment of the lacunae in De mysteriis 1.15–19 was taken up by P. J. G. Gussen, “Hilaire de Poitiers, ‘Tractatus mysteriorum,’ 1.15–19,” VC 10 (1956): 12–24. FOGLEMAN / PECCATRIX ECCLESIA 47

INTERPRETING THE CHURCH: HILARY’S EXEGETICAL RATIONALE Granted that this text is a guide to exegesis, its particular exegetical rationale warrants attention. Several scholars have commented on Hilary’s exegesis overall, especially in relation to the conciliar controversies of the fourth century,64 but less attention has been granted to the De mysteriis.65 Given that this is a work devoted to a particular kind of exegesis—namely, catechetical exegesis—its distinctive interpretive prescriptions are important to highlight, since the question of the church’s identity in relation to Christ occurs as derivative of his interpretation of key Old Testament passages. The key insights Hilary puts forth here for interpreting the Old Testament include: (a) establishing the parameters for making appropriate typological connections, (b) stressing the disposition necessary for the correct exposition of Scripture, and most importantly, (c) reading the Old Testament with the appropriate “scope”—namely, the conviction that all Scripture points to the mystery of Christ and the church.66 In the introduction and conclusion of the De mysteriis, Hilary sets out the basic guidelines for proper exegesis. The Scriptures can be interpreted in “multiplex” ways, but the preacher must guard against two errors specifically: either reading the Old Testament without reference to its New Testament fulfillments, or by postulating “vain similitudes” (inanis

64. Overall, see Charles Kannengiesser, “L’Exégese d’Hilaire,” in Hilaire et son temps: Actes du Colloque de Poitiers (Paris: Études Augustiniennes, 1969), 127–42. On Hilary’s exegetical methods in his earlier work, see Doignon, Hilaire devant l’exile; Jeremy Driscoll, “The Transfiguration in Hilary of Poitiers’ Commentary on Matthew,” Aug 24 (1984): 395–420; and D. H. Williams, “Introduction,” in Hilary of Poitiers: Commentary on Matthew, FC 125 (Washington, DC: Catholic University of America Press, 2012), 10–21. On his exegetical method in the De Trinitate, see Mark Weedman, The Trinitarian Theology of Hilary of Poitiers (Leiden: Brill, 2007), 119–35; Carl Beckwith, Hilary of Poitiers on the Trinity: From De Fide to De Trini- tate (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008), 186–210. 65. The major exception of course being Brisson, who deals with Hilary’s exegetical method in the De mysteriis in SC 19:7–41, and on whom I am much dependent for the following section. 66. The Greek terms “scope” (skopos) or “mind” (dianoia) of Scripture are obvi- ously not phrases used by Hilary. But Hilary’s use of ratio or ordo might amount to something close. On the “mind of Scripture” as hermeneutical principle in fourth- century exegesis, see Frances Young, Biblical Exegesis and the Formation of a Chris tian Culture (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1997), 29–45. A useful sys- tematization of Hilary’s vocabulary and technical terminology is found in Doignon, Hilaire devant l’exile, 255–94, and for the De mysteriis in particular, in Brisson, “Introduction,” SC 19:15–28. 48 JOURNAL OF EARLY CHRISTIAN STUDIES

similitudinis) that are hastily applied to the biblical text.67 Preachers do their catechumens a disservice if they either ignore the New Testament realities prefigured in the Old Testament or in their haste provide careless or empty prefigurations.68 These two errors serve as guardrails for sound exegesis in teaching the biblical narrative in catechetical contexts. Hilary insists throughout the De mysteriis that the events that took place in the Old Testament have their own veracity or historical reality but that the spiritual ordo or ratio must be discerned within them.69 There is even a sense that for Hilary the entirety of the Old Testament is one integrated prefiguration of the coming of Christ, such that “the history of Moses contains the order of a prefiguration that began since Adam.”70 In other words, the events (gesta) that began with Adam and continue through Moses are part of a unified prefiguration that finds fulfillment in Christ and the church. Nevertheless, there are often unfulfilled prefigurations in the text that urge the reader to look elsewhere for their realization—especially in the case of Old Testament prophecies. For instance, commenting on Lamech’s prophecy of Noah—“this one will cause us to rest from our labors and the toil of our hands” (Gen 5.28)—Hilary asks where Scripture teaches that rest was ever found in Noah.71 It is only in Jesus that rest is found, for it is he who says, “come to me all who labor and are weary and I will give you rest” (Matt 11.28–30).72 Thus, in order to make sense of the Old Testament, reference must be made to its appropriate New Tes- tament fulfillment, for “in these things a great sacrament of the future is contained, and in each place we may consider them as such.”73 Hilary’s attention to the underlying structure of the narrative of God’s work in history allows him to attend to the veracity of the Scriptures while also seeking within them a foreshadowing of Christ and the church, for “there is indeed a reality (res) carried in the present activities . . . but a spiritual prefiguration grasps its order.”74

67. Myst. 1.1 (SC 19:72). 68. A similar sentiment is repeated at the conclusion: Myst. 2.11 (SC 19:156). 69. For example, Myst. 2.9 (SC 19:154): Hic ordo rerum magnis spiritualiter ger endorum sacramentis conexus est. 70. Myst. 1.27 (SC 19:120). 71. Myst. 1.12 (SC 19:98). 72. Myst. 1.13 (SC 19:100). 73. Myst. 1.13 (SC 19:100). A parallel is found in Isaac’s blessing of Jacob: he was supposed to abound in crops and vineyards, with princes bowing before him. But where, Hilary asks, did this happen in history? Not in Jacob’s family, since they were sent into slavery in Egypt. So it must be understood as pointing to Christ. See Myst. 1.23 (SC 19:114, 116). 74. Myst. 1.22 (SC 19:112): Geritur quidem res secundum praesentum in Esau et Iacob effectum, sed spiritualis praeformatio ordinem suum optinet. Later (Myst. FOGLEMAN / PECCATRIX ECCLESIA 49

In order to avoid both an overly literal reading and a reading that applies “empty similitudes,” Hilary stresses the appropriate disposition required for grasping the spiritual order of Scripture. Hilary urges that interpret- ers approach the Scripture with patience and diligence, not hurrying over (transcursim) anything in the text.75 Exegesis requires an ascetic discipline in order to divine Scripture’s deeper meaning. The exegete must apply careful attentiveness (diligentiam) to the reading of divine Scriptures to know when to read the text in simple terms and when to apply a type. In so doing, the preacher can “avoid rendering them useless for our hearers by our haste or ignorance.”76

So that the understanding of simple truths is not corrupted by the assertion of empty prefigurations, nor the power of prefiguration ignored because of one’s opinion, the truth of divine Scriptures must be understood in this way, so that nothing is found there that has not been subjected to the most discriminating and intelligent examination, and that nothing has been considered in vain or by compulsion.77 The proper reading of Scripture, when it is approached with diligence and care, leads to a disciplined perception of scriptural reading, whereby things that happened in the present may be “contemplated” in the former things, and the former things “venerated” in the present.78 Such is

1.25 [SC 19:116]), in explaining the story of Jacob and Esau, Hilary shows how God arranged history so that truth would be found in both the historical event and the future promise: “And so that we may discern the abundant mercies of God in the prefiguration of future events in the present events, all things have been diligently proclaimed and written. This takes place so that in both the thing that happened and in the future hope, one and the same order of history may occur together (ut et in rem gestam et in spem futuram unus atque idem historiae ordo concurreret).” 75. Myst. 1.1 (SC 19:72); 2.11 (SC 19:156). Likewise, see Myst. 1.10 (SC 19:92), where upon commenting on the story of Lamech, Hilary writes: “These things are to be heard not by hastily running over them but by seeking in them a figure of the future.” 76. Myst. 2.11 (SC 19:156): Admonuimus frequenter eam lectioni diuinarum scrip tuarum diligentiam adhiberi oportere . . . ne intemperanter atque imperite utroque abusi utrumque inutile audientibus redderemus. An almost similar admonishment occurs in Hilary, Mat. 14.3 (SC 258:12; FC 125:159): Frequenter monuimus omnem diligentiam Euangeliorum lectioni adhiberi oportere quia in his, quae gesta narrantur, subesse interioris intelligentiae ratio reperiatur. 77. Myst. 2.11 (SC 19:156, 158): . . . si aut simplicium cognitio inani prefigura tionum assertione corrumperetur aut uirtus praefigurationum sub simplicum opinione ignoraretur, quamquam ita se diuinae scripturae sermo habeat, ut, ut nihil illic inane nihilque extra causam alicuius necessitatis, nihil non sub discrimine consectandae a nobis intellegentiae editum repperiatur. 78. Myst. 2.14 (SC 19:160): . . . ut posteritas successionum gestis temporis ante rioris instructa et praesentia etiam in praeteritis contemplaretur et praeterita nunc quoque in praesentibus ueneraretur. 50 JOURNAL OF EARLY CHRISTIAN STUDIES the basic posture with which Hilary hoped his preachers would attend to Scripture. When Hilary’s exegetes read the Old Testament with the appropriate parameters and an attitude of patient diligence, they would then be poised to read Scripture with an eye towards its central theme, namely, the mystery of Christ and the church. Hilary announces this governing hermeneutic at the outset of the work:

Every work contained in the sacred volumes announces in words, expresses in deeds, and confirms in examples the advent of our Lord Jesus Christ, who was sent by the Father from the Virgin through the Spirit, and was born man. And so for this reason, throughout the present age, he gives birth to, washes, sanctifies, chooses, discerns, and redeems the church in all these true and clear prefigurations in the patriarchs: in the sleep of Adam, the flood of Noah, the blessing of Melchizedek, the justification of Abraham, the birth of Isaac, the servitude of Jacob . . . . Everything that Christ would fulfill has been prefigured since the beginning of the world.79 For the New Testament and early fathers, as Jean Daniélou has noted, a system of interpreting Christ prefigured in the Old Testament developed quickly: Adam is a figure of Christ, the “new man”; the sacrifice of Isaac or the Passover is a type of Christ’s sacrifice; the Suffering Servant of Isa- iah is a prophecy of the suffering Christ.80 Many of these christological typologies were developed for the purpose of establishing the church’s relationship to antiquity in a culture where novel religious movements were viewed suspiciously. This was primarily an apologetic task: if it could be shown that Christ was the Word of God spoken of by the prophets, Christianity could be established, against both Paganism and Judaism, as the more ancient and thus truer way of life.81

79. Myst. 1.1 (SC 19:172, 174): Omne autem opus, quod sacris uoluminibus conti netur, aduentum domini nostri Iesu Christi, quo missus a patre ex uirgine per spiritum homo natus est, et dictis nuntiat et factis exprimit et confirmat exemplis. Namque hic per omne constituti huius saeculi tempus ueris atque absolutis praefigurationibus in patriarchis ecclesiam aut generat aut abluit aut sanctificat aut eligit aut discernit aut redimit: somno Adae, Noe diluuio, benedctione Melchisedech, Abrahae iustificatione, ortu Ysahac, Iacob seruitute . . . quod in domino consummatum est, iam ab initio mundi in plurimis praefiguratum esse noscatur. 80. See Jean Daniélou, From Shadows to Reality: Studies in the Biblical Typology of the Fathers, trans. Dom Wulstan Hibberd (London: Burns & Oates, 1960), 11–21, 30–47, and 115–30, for the development of the Adam-Christ typology in Scripture, in Irenaeus, and in patristic interpretations of the sacrifice of Isaac. 81. This apologetic line runs from Justin Martyr through Eusebius of Caesarea, the latter for whom the proof of prophecy argument was even at the beginning of the fourth century, according to one recent scholar, still “the strongest and most FOGLEMAN / PECCATRIX ECCLESIA 51

In the De mysteriis, the tradition of Old Testament christological reading was put in service of inculcating an ecclesial identity that sought to establish the biblical and christological foundations of the church. The life of the church is prefigured throughout the Old Testament, which is how the present-day church could find its identity in Christ hidden there. The parallel here with Augustine’s De catechizandis rudibus is notable. Augustine writes:

Indeed everything that we read in the holy scriptures that was written before the coming of the Lord was written for the sole purpose of drawing attention to his coming and to prefigure the future Church (futura praesignaretur ecclesia). That Church is the people of God through all the nations; it is his body, and also included in its number are all the faithful servants who lived in this world even before the Lord’s coming, believing that he would come even as we believe that he has come.82 The coherence of this exegetical principle—that Christ and the church are to be read together prefigured in the Old Testament—is the key exegetical feature of the De mysteriis. Along with the imperative to read the Scrip- tures patiently and diligently, and the concern to read with an eye towards non-literal but non-excessive typology, the bishop of Poitiers provided a basic set of exegetical principles by which the pastors under his care could safely explain the Scriptures to catechumens.

THE BIBLICAL FOUNDATIONS OF THE CHURCH: ECCLESIAL THEMES IN THE DE MYSTERIIS Having set forth the historical context, genre, and the principles of exegesis, it now remains to examine the De mysteriis for what it suggests about Hilary’s thinking about the church. The most noticeable thing about the treatise, as has already been intimated, is its particular focus on the relationship between Christ and the church. Most of the typological readings Hilary employs are not original to him but can be found in the New Testa- ment writers themselves, in earlier church fathers, or even in his own earlier writings.83 However, Hilary’s collection of these interpretations forms definitive proof of the truth of Christianity.” See Aryeh Kofsky, Eusebius of Caesarea against Paganism (Leiden: Brill, 2002), 75. On Justin Martyr’s approach, see Oskar Skarsaune, The Proof of Prophecy: A Study in Justin Martyr’s Proof-Text Tradition (Leiden: Brill, 1987). 82. Augustine, Catech. 3.6 (CCL 46:125; Canning, Instructing Beginners, 65). 83. Hilary’s interpretation of Abraham and Sarah, for example, is very similar to his exegesis in Mat. 18.6 (SC 258:82; FC 125:196–97). 52 JOURNAL OF EARLY CHRISTIAN STUDIES a coherent picture in this short work, whereby in nearly every Old Testa- ment passage Hilary finds some aspect of the church’s life as it relates to Christ. Adam and Eve prefigure the “second Adam” and the church formed from his side during his “sleep,” that is, the passion.84 With Cain and Abel, Hilary sees a prefiguration of two types of people groups—namely, the church who offers true sacrifices of a pure heart, and the world who lives according to the flesh, with “each [brother] signifying in both their names and activities differing wills and desires (mores et studia).”85 In the story of Lamech, who is cursed seventy-fold, Hilary sees a prefiguration of Peter, “upon whom the Lord builds up the church as by a living foundation,” and the ability of the church to forgive sins as much as seventy-fold (Matt 18.21).86 In the story of Noah, there are multiple allusions to Christ and the church: Noah is a man “whom the Lord assumed from a virgin”;87 the ark is a type of the church, filled by the Holy Spirit, the dove;88 and the drunkenness of Noah is a type of Christ’s passion.89 Abraham and Sarah prefigure Christ and the church through the numeric symbol of the letters added to their names: the letter added to “Abram” to form “Abraham” symbolizes the number one, while the letter added to “Sara” to make “Sarah” represents one hundred—thus, Christ leaves the ninety-nine in search of the one (Matt 18.12; Luke 15.4), and returns it to Sarah, a type of the fulfilled heavenly church.90 Jacob, the younger brother who gains his older brother’s birthright, prefigures the “younger people,” the church, who gain the birthright belonging to the “older brother,” the Jews.91 In the narrative of Moses, references to the church’s persecutions, the sacramental rites, the eucharist, and the apostolic teaching emerge in the burning bush, the water that turns to blood, the manna, and the twelve springs and seventy palm trees, respectively.92 Finally, Joshua and Rahab, interpreted via the prophet Hosea’s marriage to a prostitute, prefigure Christ’s relation to the peccatrix ecclesia, the sinful or promiscuous church.93 In basically every pericope, Hilary finds a christological and ecclesial referent. Thus, although he does not state in dogmatic fashion what the

84. Myst. 1.2–5 (SC 19:76–84). 85. Myst. 1.6 (SC 19:84). 86. Myst. 1.10 (SC 19:94): Petrus, super quem ecclesiam tamquam uiuo funda mento (dominus) aedificabat. 87. Myst. 1.12 (SC 19:96). 88. Myst. 1.14 (SC 19:102). 89. Myst. 1.15 (SC 19:104). 90. Myst. 1.18 (SC 19:106–8). 91. Myst. 1.20–26 (SC 19:110–20). 92. Myst. 1.27–42 (SC 19:120–40). 93. Myst. 2.9 (SC 19:154). FOGLEMAN / PECCATRIX ECCLESIA 53 church is, he portrays a number of features about the church that constitute the patristic equivalent of a primer on ecclesiology. However, we can be even more specific: in this treatise Hilary narrates the church as a sinful body made clean through her union with Christ. To be sure, he touches on other important aspects of ecclesial life, but on the whole this theme predominates. In what remains, I want to draw out some of the particular ways that he narrates this aspect of the church’s life: first, through establishing the dependence of the church’s holiness on the church’s unique origin in Christ; second, to expound the image of the church as a sinful bride, made holy through union with Christ and the “generation” of faithful believers; and third, the church’s sanctification through God’s free election and the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. Once again, with all due caution, we may see how the historical context of a church in the midst of rigorist controversy such as that presented in Gaul in the wake of the council of Ariminum could compel Hilary to write a treatise with these themes in mind.

Bone of Bone and Flesh of Flesh: The Church Knit from the Side of Christ The close relationship between Christ and the church is established in the first prefiguration of Christ and the church: namely, Adam and Eve as the prefiguration of Christ the new Adam, and the church born from the flesh and bone of Adam after the “sleep” of his passion.94 This kind of interpretation was already suggested in Paul’s Letter to the Ephesians (Eph 5.32), and taken up by Tertullian, among others.95 The birth of the church, Hil- ary notes, is not a new creation per se, but is created from the flesh and bone of Christ. Whereas Adam was formed from the earth and became a living being, Eve was formed through the flesh and bone of Adam.96 Hilary thus asks why Adam cries out, “Bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh!” if in the actual events God only created Eve from Adam’s bone. This is explained, he says, by recourse to Matthew 19.4, where Jesus responds

94. Myst. 1.2–5 (SC 19:76–84). 95. Tertullian, An. 43.10 (De Anima, ed. J. H. Waszink [Amsterdam: J. M. Meu- lenhoff, 1947], 60): Si enim Adam de Christo figuram dabat, somnus Adae mors erat Christi dormituri in mortem, ut de iniuria perinde lateris eius uera mater uiuentium figuraretur ecclesia. See also Zeno of Verona, Tract. 1.3.10.19–20 (CCL 22:28–29) and Gregory of Elvira, Tract. Orig. 15.10 (CCL 69:115). Following Hilary, Augustine will employ this in Faust. 12.8 (CSEL 25.1:336–37). Daniélou devotes a chapter to this theme, highlighting Hilary’s unique eschatological emphasis of this interpretation, in Shadows to Reality, 48–56. Finally, see Figura, Kirchenverständnis des Hilarius, 122. 96. Myst. 1.5 (SC 19:82). 54 JOURNAL OF EARLY CHRISTIAN STUDIES to a question about marriage by saying, “from the beginning, God made them male and female and said, ‘for this reason, a man shall leave his father and mother and the two will be in one flesh (duo in carne una).’”97 This shows, says Hilary, how the church is uniquely and intimately made from the body of Christ:

For since the Word was made flesh and the church made a member of Christ—she who was born from his side through water and made alive through his blood—and because the Word subsisting (manens) before the ages, that is, the Son of God, was born in the flesh and would remain (maneat) in us through a sacrament, he taught plainly that a type (speciem) of himself and the church is contained in Adam and Eve, which signified the church’s sanctification by its communion with Christ’s flesh after the sleep of his death.98 Here Hilary makes a subtle allusion to the pro-Nicene emphasis on the eternal generation of the Son. In this context, however, this principle is applied to relating Christ’s flesh to the body of the church. The Word exists eternally, before the ages, but now dwells sacramentally in his body, the church. This does not imply any sort of divinity ascribed to the church, nor does it entail confusing the church as a created entity with the uncre- ated divine. He will go to great lengths to describe the church as a sinful body. Furthermore, he will give this interpretation an eschatological twist: referencing Ezekiel’s valley of dry bones, Hilary portrays the creation of Eve as containing the “truth and principle of the resurrection . . . . It is a mystery, according to the Apostle, hidden from the ages in God [Col 1.26; Eph 3.9]—that the gentiles would be co-heirs, co-members, and co-participants in his promises in Christ [Eph 3.6], for he is able, according to that same Apostle, to conform the body of our humility to his glo- rious body [Phil 3.21].”99 Hilary’s initial reflections on the Adam-Eve typology prompt notice of the intimate relationship between Christ and the church, which is a product of the church’s unique origin. Hilary’s focus on the unique generation of Christ in the Nicene controversies perhaps has shaped his attention to

97. Here and throughout, I quote passages of Scripture as Hilary has quoted them. See Brisson’s note on Hilary’s scriptural text (SC 19:68–70). 98. Myst. 1.3 (SC 19:78, 80): Cum enim uerbum factum sit caro et ecclesia mem brum sit Christi, quae ex latere eius et per aquam nata et uiuificata per sanguinem sit, rursum caro, in qua uerbum ante saecula manens, quod est Filius Dei, natum sit, per sacramentum maneat in nobis, absolute docuit in Adam atque Eua suam et ecclesiae speciem contineri, quam post mortis suae somnum sanctificatem esse carnis suae communione significet. 99. Myst. 1.5 (SC 19:82): . . . resurrectionibis fides et ratio. FOGLEMAN / PECCATRIX ECCLESIA 55 the unique generation of the church, which, like Eve formed from the side of Adam, is not a “new creation” but an extension of Christ. The church has a derived and secondary status in relation to Christ, not existing of its own accord.

Peccatrix Ecclesia: The Sinful Church Following the account of the unique birth of the church, Hilary then reflects on the sinfulness of the church. Although the church is formed from the “flesh and bone” of Christ, the church is not to be understood as itself a pure, sinless body apart from Christ. Rather, it is made holy through her union with Christ and the generation of faithful believers. Continuing his exegesis of Christ and the church in the prefiguration of Adam and Eve, Hilary remarks on the passage from Paul’s letter to Timo- thy that although Eve sinned and not Adam, she would be saved through childbearing (1 Tim 2.14). The reality to which this biblical paradigm points must be understood, says Hilary, as referring to the sinless Christ, the “second and celestial Adam,” and the church, which is saved “through the generation of children remaining steadfast in the faith.”100 This point is further clarified by another Pauline passage on marriage, where Paul teaches that unfaithful spouses become sanctified through their marriage to believers, a union that nonetheless produces holy children (1 Cor 7.12–15). For the church, likewise, sanctification is granted through her generative union with a faithful spouse: “just as the societas of one faithful person may benefit the unfaithful one, so too the procreation of the faithful aids the unfaithful.”101 The church, in other words, is a sinful body that is made pure through the union with Christ that generates faithful offspring. Another way that Hilary figures the sinful church is through his allegorical reading of the Joshua and Rahab encounter (Josh 2), which he pairs with the story of Hosea and Gomer (Hos 1–3). By linking these two nar- ratives, Hilary provides another image of the church as a sinful bride made pure through union with Christ. Joshua, of course, prefigures Christ, since in Greek and Latin their names are almost identical.102 Then, in a play on words, Hilary expounds the sinful or “promiscuous church”:

100. Myst. 1.3 (SC 19:78). 101. Myst. 1.4 (SC 19:82). 102. In Hilary’s Latin, Iesu and Hiesu. See Myst. 2.5 (SC 19:150). See Daniélou, Shadows to Reality, 229–43, who shows the genealogy of the Joshua-Jesus link, beginning as early as the Epistle to Barnabas 12, and further developed in Justin Martyr, Dial. 75, 111, 113; Tertullian, Marc. 3.16, 3.18, 4.7, and Iud. 9–10; and especially in Origen, Hom. in Jos. 1.1, 1.3, 2.1. 56 JOURNAL OF EARLY CHRISTIAN STUDIES

The promiscuous woman (meretrix) has taken into her home the two spies sent by Joshua to explore the land: the promiscuous church (peccatrix ecclesia) has taken up the Law and Prophets sent out to explore the faith of humanity, and so she confesses, “God is both in heaven above and on earth below” [Josh 2.11]. Indeed, after the spiritual generation of the Word, she understood the proof of the bodily birth, attested in these words: “After this, he was seen on earth and was transformed among men” [Bar 3.38].103 The peccatrix ecclesia, having received the Law and the Prophets, now makes a confession of faith in the incarnation, which Hilary reads as the significance of Rahab’s proclamation of seeing God in heaven and earth, confirmed in the enigmatic passage from Baruch.104 In this case, union with Christ is manifested through the church’s receptivity of Christ’s incarnation, prefigured in the Law and the Prophets. It is not only, then, by the church’s designation of bride of Christ that she becomes holy, but through her active reception and confession of Christ as the incarnate God. One can imagine the kind of message this teaching might convey in the context of a church undergoing a rigorist crisis such as that put forth in the aftermath of Ariminum in the 360s. While it would be overstat- ing the evidence to claim that Hilary primarily intended this treatise as a response to the Luciferian problem, his stress on the church as consisting of sinful people, made pure not by their own activity but by their union with Christ, would be a powerful antidote to such a purist ecclesiology. At the very least, this view accords with the more accommodating position determined from the council of Alexandria, while still maintaining a clear affirmation of Christ’s incarnation.

Chosen and Sanctified: The Church’s New Life in Christ A final theme that is important in Hilary’s thinking about the church is an emphasis on God’s free election as the replacement of Israel, and the church’s ongoing process of sanctification. Having dwelt at some length

103. Myst. 2.9 (SC 19:154). 104. See Jean Doignon, “Peccatrix-ecclesia: Une formule d’inspiration Origénienne chez Hilaire de Poitiers,” RSPT 74, no. 2 (1990): 255–58, on the possible Origenist influence of this phrase. In Origen, Hom. in Jos. 3.4 (SC 71:138), the Alexandrian theologian links Rahab with Hosea’s wife, and in Cant. 2 (SC 375:324), he makes a similar connection to Eve’s sinfulness and Adam’s sinlessness, based on 1 Tim 2.14, also using the term peccatrix. Doignon argues that whereas Origen drew back from the full implications of saying the church was a sinful body, Hilary was more will- ing to connect the church’s sinful origin to its nature as a peccatrix, since for Hilary, Doignon argues, drawing on Stoic thought, the origin of something was fundamen- tal to its nature. FOGLEMAN / PECCATRIX ECCLESIA 57 on the sinfulness of the church, Hilary also makes frequent references to the various ways in which the church is called and sanctified through union with Christ. Hilary addresses the church’s election in passages that related it to the historical community of Israel. In his explication of the passage on Jacob and Esau, Hilary shows how Esau’s carnal-mindedness—his desire for food instead of a future inheritance—led to that inheritance being passed on to the younger brother, that is, the “younger people,” the church.105 Similarly, in his reflections on the prophet Hosea, Hilary makes it clear that God ordained the church to be the inheritor of the promises so that those people who were called “Not Loved” and “Not My People” would be called “Loved” and “My People” (Hos 2.25).106 This line of thinking, adapted from Paul (Rom 9.26), enabled Hilary to interpret the historical shift from Israel to the church as a fulfillment of the promise, already present in the Old Testament, to extend his mercy to a people lost and without hope. Hilary’s reflections on the church place a strong emphasis on the unwor- thiness and free election of the church, while at the same time insisting on the sanctification and purity that is also the church’s aspiration. In his exposition of the Noah pericope, Hilary emphasizes the Spirit’s role in sanctification. The three sendings of the dove from the ark represent three sendings of the Holy Spirit: the first is the teaching of the Holy Spirit to his children in the ark (“the order of instructions [to Noah] prefigures the sanctification of the church”);107 the second is the dove bringing back the olive branch, the “fruits of divine mercy”;108 finally, the third sending prefigures the Spirit’s “habitation” among the faithful.109 Hilary later shows how the church is sanctified through persecutions and temptations, like the bush Moses sees that is burned but not consumed.110 Finally, there is a great emphasis on the church’s sanctification in the sacramental life of the church, especially on display in the exposition of the events of Moses’s life.

105. Myst. 1.20 (SC 19:110). 106. Myst. 2.4 (SC 19:148). 107. Myst. 1.13 (SC 19:100, 102). 108. Myst. 1.14 (SC 19:102). 109. Myst. 1.14 (SC 19:102, 104): . . . tertia . . . emissio atque euolatio habita tionem eius, quae in credente est, praeformat Spiritu Sancto emisso in aeternum in fidelium animis permanente. 110. Myst. 1.30 (SC 19:124). Here he interprets Exod 3.2 in light of 2 Cor 4.8–10— the church that is “sustaining anguish and impoverishment but not abandoned . . . always bearing the passions of Christ in our bodies that the life of Jesus Christ may be manifested in our body.” 58 JOURNAL OF EARLY CHRISTIAN STUDIES

After establishing Moses as the prefiguration of Christ,111 Hilary explains how the wood that makes the bitter water of Merah sweet reveals God’s power in sanctifying a “contaminated” people through the sacrament of water.112 And in the Israelites’ reception of manna in the wilderness, Hilary highlights the efficacy of the eucharist, symbolized by the food’s morning gathering—the time of resurrection—as opposed to the meat (carne) col- lected at night, which symbolizes the passing away of their accustomed diet in Egypt.113 Throughout the De mysteriis, Hilary seeks in the Old Testament Scrip- tures a way of elucidating the present realities of a church that has been chosen and made holy through union with Christ, the sending of the Spirit, and the sacramental life of the church. By articulating both the christological origin of the church and its sinful-yet-sanctified status, Hilary provides a grammar for reading Scripture in order to shape the ecclesial identity of his present-day Gallican churches.

CONCLUSION Hilary’s primary purpose in writing the De mysteriis was to provide a simple, instructive guide for the exposition of Scripture, especially for preaching in catechetical contexts. In so doing, Hilary returned again and again to the importance of reading Scripture in light of the mystery of Christ and the church. When read patiently and diligently, the Old Testament would provide a window into the church’s life with Christ. The church is not a pure, sinless entity; the church is Rahab, or the wife of Hosea— a meretrix that through union with Christ, the confession of faith, and the generation of faithful believers, becomes sanctified. Like Eve, who sinned when Adam did not (according to Hilary’s reading of 1 Tim 2.14), the church is made holy through being wed to the sinless Christ, the new Adam. To those who were once “Not My People” and “Not Loved,” God now calls “Loved” and “My People” (Hos 2.23). In this way, the church gives expression to the endless mercies of a God who desires to make a lost and hopeless people his own. Hilary’s treatise is a small witness to early Christian reflection on the nature of the church. Writing in the 360s, in the midst of a destabilized pro-Nicene church after the council of Ariminum, Hilary stressed a number

111. Myst. 1.27–29 (SC 19:120–24). 112. Myst. 1.34 (SC 19:130). 113. Myst. 1.39–40 (SC 19:136, 138). FOGLEMAN / PECCATRIX ECCLESIA 59 of important aspects of the sinful-yet-graced church.114 The De mysteriis is not usually regarded as an ecclesiological text, being more often over- shadowed by interest in its exegetical features. Hopefully, however, the reading offered here will spur further reflection on the doctrinal and social dimensions surrounding this under-studied but insightful text. Read in the context of inner pro-Nicene debates and a developing tradition of Old Tes- tament exegesis, the De mysteriis can fruitfully be read as an example of pastoral catechesis converging with christological controversies, resulting in a rare glimpse of early Christian reflection on the nature of the church.

Alex Fogleman is a PhD Candidate in the Department of Religion at Baylor University in Waco, Texas

114. This is not to suggest that similar themes are absent in his earlier works. However, the theme of the sinfulness of the church is at best muted in the main instances of ecclesial reflection in his earliest text, In Matthaeum, written before he had any real knowledge of the Nicene controversies. For instance, in Mat. 7.9, 13.1, 14.13, the church is pictured as a ship that maintains purity and generativity through the power of the indwelling Word (13.1). In Mat. 15.4, the church is figured by the Canaanite woman (Matt 15.21–28), though Hilary softens any contempt that would be associated with her being called a dog. Nowhere in the In Mattheaum, however, does Hilary go so far as to refer to the church as a peccatrix ecclesia, or otherwise give such sustained attention to the Christ-church relation.