Who owned churches? In late antiquity Christian communities constructed large churches, decorated them with lavish paintings, mosaics, and silverware, and endowed them with many gifts and estates. Not surprisingly, this considerable ecclesiastical wealth and the corresponding revenues led to debates and disputes about ownership, administration, preservation, and distribution.
The most important sources about the legal standing of churches and the ritual disposition of their treasures are laws issued by emperors and canons issued by councils of bishops. But during the centuries from Constantine to Justinian, these imperial laws and conciliar canons are found scattered over many regions, and their interpretation requires a profound understanding of local contexts and linguistic details. Mary K. Farag's synthesis is now both the best overview and the best starting point. The first three chapters discuss the legal rules for churches, and the final three chapters discuss the contribution of gifts to churches and by churches. Her analysis is remarkably sure-footed, impressively comprehensive in its coverage, and deeply informed by relevant scholarship. This is a splendid book.
Farag begins with the classification of churches as res sacrae, “sacred things” that were “unowned and unownable” (3). Once this category of Roman jurisprudence was applied to churches, bishops were designated as “the ritual agents who performed consecration rites to produce sacred things” (18). They were also the chief administrators, obligated to oversee these resources only for pious aims, in particular for the benefit of the poor and needy. To emphasize that the property of churches could not be alienated, bishops were expected “to make sacred things as eternal as the faith itself” (62). Christian writers furthermore repeatedly argued that “protected places” were “protecting places,” legally capable of “offering protection to slaves, refugees, and captives” (72). Churches were sanctuaries, extending asylum even to criminals and fugitives.
These unique rights and privileges caused their own complications. In particular, Farag highlights how “bishops wishing to perform acts of mercy confronted donors who wished to protect their ecclesial donations” (100). To support the poor, to ransom captives, to raise liquid funds, bishops sometimes had to alienate property. The expectation of protecting the disadvantaged often took priority over allowing ecclesiastical wealth to sit untouched. Bishops had to convince donors that the repurposing of their gifts in fact amplified their eternal spiritual return: “the investment exponentially grew from the value of the metalware to the measureless value of the saved captive's soul” (128). The church buildings were themselves a valuable medium for broadcasting this message of circular giving. Magnificent frescoes depicted bishops offering churches to Christ and receiving divine largesse in return, while inscriptions, portraits, homilies, and even liturgical hymns reminded congregants to contribute alms and donations to “the circle of sanctity” (143): “as gifts circulate [. . .], the glory that redounds to previous givers multiplies” (155). According to Farag, this emphasis on acts of mercy reversed the legal perspective: “churches were protected because they were protecting” (179).
Rifts within Christianity modified some of these ideas about the role of bishops in consecrating churches and the restrictions on the use of ecclesiastical wealth. Because most emperors did not recognize the legitimacy of bishops who rejected the Council of Chalcedon in 451, non-Chalcedonian writers argued that Christ the King had himself consecrated their churches. This insistence on an alternative mechanism for creating sacred holy places then became a challenge to the authority of emperors: “non-Chalcedonians would denigrate the value of imperial authorization in comparison to that of the celestial realm” (176). Centuries later, even emperors were willing to compromise in order to tap into the wealth of churches. In 1081, the new emperor Alexius I Comnenus was allowed to pawn ecclesiastical silverware to fund his army (180).
In appendices, Farag catalogues all of the imperial laws and ecclesiastical canons about church property. Throughout her chapters, she also inserts numerous examples illustrating both the legalities and their inherent contradictions. Some bishops could not resist the temptations of wealth. In Cyrenaica, a bishop composed “an obscene and unpleasant satire” about a rival bishop who had staked a claim to a hilltop by consecrating a small chapel (29). Other bishops faced constant complaints. At Constantinople John Chrysostom was criticized for his misuse of ecclesiastical property. The accusations included the charge that he had sold slabs of marble that a previous bishop had reserved for the decoration of a church. Although John's supporters claimed he had only redirected revenues to support new hospitals, he was still deposed.
In late antiquity, this tension between the display of wealth and the obligation to help the poor was never fully resolved. “Donors had to be persuaded that a donation for the salvation of one's soul was not undercut by its alienation for the redemption of captives” (127). As Farag notes, “the beauty of the church may be a hindrance to the faithful” (154). The Egyptian monk Pachomius once applauded himself for having constructed such an attractive chapel. Then, he reconsidered, tied ropes around the pillars, and pulled them out of alignment. Beauty was a distraction from acts of benevolence; a compassionate church should be a bit crooked.
