This book concerns itself with the intellectual milieu of the intriguing latter half of the third century, with a relatively peaceful period from the end of Valerian's reign to the beginning of the Diocletian persecution (260–303). As such, it is an indispensable prologomena to the great transformations which took place in the Roman Empire in the beginning of the fourth century.
Ideas have a tremendous power, either for good or bad. Elizabeth DePalma Digeser argues that “ideas about correct ritual and metaphysical doctrine inspired people to bring about Rome's last and longest effort forcibly to repress Christianity” (ix). Who came out and who spread those ideas which Christian authors, such as Arnobius, Eusebius, Lactantius, and Methodius attempted to refute? Finding an answer to this question, the author studies first a seminal figure, Ammonius Saccas as well as his students (Origen and Plotinus), their student (Porphyry), and Porphyry's student (Iamblichus). These people had a lot in common—“they did not foster sharply circumscribed camps of Christians and Hellenes” (53)—and precisely because of such closeness they also developed intense philosophical/theological disagreements. In fact, DePalma Digeser highlights Porphyry's criticism of both Origen and Iamblichus as the root cause of the ideas which were popularized, in turn, by “imperial officials and oracular priests” (164) and which eventually led to the outbreak of persecution (cf. 190–191). The fuss was mostly about the divinity of Jesus and the necessity of public/state rituals.
Chapter 1 is about Ammonius Saccas, who was the fountainhead of the ideas found in the “Plotinian community in Rome, the Origenist communities in Alexandria and Caesarea, and the Iamblician community in Syria” (17). Particularly, Ammonius propagated the harmony of Platonic and Aristotelian ideas, which also led him to see the “harmony” or parallel between Moses and Jesus with a clear implication that Jesus was not divine. This idea was then propagated by Porphyry with the consequences that imperial officials, too, started to see the alleged danger of Christian convictions about Jesus to Roman religion and society. The author quotes Porphyry: “Ever since Jesus began to be honored, no one ever heard of any public assistance from the gods” (181).
It should be added though that, despite DePalma-Digeser's diligent efforts to settle the issue once and for all, the controversy about whether there were one or two Ammoniuses and Origens (27) (and two Porphyries in Augustine, cons. Ev.) will, in all likelihood, continue. Chapter 2 is about Ammonius' star-student Origen who probably taught both Plotinus (64) and Porphyry (69). Since Origen practiced figurative interpretation of scriptural texts—among other reasons, to defend the divinity of Jesus Christ—he was abandoned by his teacher as well as his students (Plotinus and Porphyry). Arguably the latter were also alarmed by Origen's defiance of imperial law and his exhortation of other Christians to accept martyrdom.
Speaking about Origen's figurative exegesis, at times the reader is left with an impression that such methodology was not universally shared among various Platonists (for example, 45). True, the author explicitly states that “[a]ll members of the Ammonian community believed that the sensible world was the image of the intelligible world. This assumption undergirded their use of figural exegesis to decode ainigmata” (15). Indeed, Origen's insistence on figurative interpretation derives from Plato (for instance, R. 378d) and from Platonic tradition in general, and not only more narrowly from (the equally Platonic) Judeo-Christian Alexandrian tradition (Philo and Clement) (61). After all, what was controversial was not the method itself, but its particular application by Origen and his theological preunderstandings.
Chapter 3 assesses Plotinus and Porphyry, their respective takes on rituals, and their common complaint that Christians “misunderstood the relationship between the state and the divine” (84). Chapter 4 is about the ideological rift between Porphyry and Iamblichus which “first focused on the role that rituals played for members of philosophical community,” and as the rift widened, “for the souls of ordinary persons” (98) as well. DePalma Digeser provides helpful explanations of terms, such as “salvation” (100) and “theurgy” (101), and then focuses on Porphyry's anti-Iamblicaean claim that blood sacrifices (including the Christian eucharist) were “directed only toward evil daemons” (107). This important chapter proves that any reductionist reading of the third century texts and events, which sees these only in terms of Christian/“pagan” conflict, is radically inadequate. Chapter 5 takes a look at Porphyry and Methodius of Olympus and shows that even the Christian Origenist camp lacked uniformity. Somewhat puzzling is DePalma Digeser's rather limited attention to Augustine's extensive citations of Porphyry in De civitate Dei (170n23).
What holds all five chapters together are three key notions: Ammonius Saccas as a founder of the “Ammonian community” (14), the question whether the material world, especially sacrifices, plays any role in the return of the human soul to its divine source (15-16), and the socio-political implications of philosophical ideas (16–17).
While the subject-matters of the five chapters are, perhaps, primarily of interest to specialists, the conclusion of the book will arguably find a much wider resonance. It connects the dots between philosophical ideas and the explosive perception that “Christians were a danger to the Roman community” (22). It bridges the philosophical criticisms of Christianity with the politically sneaky activity of “pagan” “augurs, prophets, haruspices, priests, priestesses, and theurgists” (182), who managed to convince the larger public and imperial court of the necessity to eliminate Christians. However, “bad press” can only be an implicit impetus of persecution, for there are important differences between what creates the conditions of something to happen, what causes it, and what triggers it. A Threat to Public Piety is an insightful and rewarding study of the period before the Diocletian persecution.
