How did Christians go about constructing what is today regarded as orthodoxy? Many educated Westerners have a vague memory that there were councils that produced creeds and definitions and edicts, but most have little understanding of the processes, personalities, and agendas that so greatly shaped Christianity and therefore much of the world's culture. Jesus Wars is Philip Jenkins' highly readable guide to the fifth century, in which much of the military-political infrastructure of orthodoxy was established. According to Jenkins, the violence and oppression used in the pursuit of orthodoxy led directly to the regional fragmentation of Christianity and its inability to face Islam as a united front.
Before reading this book, if someone had asked me whether it was possible to write a readable history of fifth-century Christianity, I would have confidently said no. At least, none of the books I had read in grad school came close to meeting that mark. I am thrilled that Jenkins has produced a book without rival, something I really could hand to a novice to church history. Beyond that, the way he tells his story is both honest and refreshing. Previous generations of scholars have often been yoked to a "development of doctrine" approach that assumes a particular end-point as correct and then seeks the straightest line through history to that point. This approach is loaded with theological assumptions; for example, providence is simply assumed to have worked out things correctly. Jenkins instead emphasizes the historical contingency of orthodoxy. Orthodox ideas did not triumph because they succeeded in persuading everyone of their cogency.
Jenkins does a decent job of covering the theological content of the struggles, but his real contribution is his description of the process. Early church councils were anything but church-led, orderly, representative meetings that established a consensus. Instead, councils were generally instigated either by an emperor to force conformity and end conflict or by a patriarch to increase his prestige and to discredit a rival. The councils were rarely representative; lack of rules regarding eligibility for councils led to stacked benches and rigged outcomes. Often, regardless of what church leaders (much less lay Christians) believed, official orthodoxy turned on the personal beliefs or interests of the imperial court. Councils did not lead to consensus. No group ever changed their minds or abdicated their position as a result of debates. Councils thus led to doctrinal unity only when backed by significant, sustained use of force. This explains why Christian groups outside of or on the fringes of imperial control so rarely adhered to imperial definitions of orthodoxy. Furthermore, even the verdicts of this period lack consistency. Nestorius remains a condemned heretic and the object of intense hated (except in the breakaway Nestorian churches, of course) despite the fact that the Tome of Leo, which became a touchstone of orthodoxy, contains practically the same teaching. Finally, Jenkins did well in identifying the monks as the street-level enforcers of bishops. Certainly there were some ascetics practicing saintly contemplation and prayer, but many ancient monks in the Eastern empire resemble nothing so much as mafia footsoldiers or even bandit gangs.
Jenkins has a rare gift for making comparisons between periods of history without being facile or patronizing. Likely because he has written widely about the history of Christianity, I found the ways he related actions in the fifth century to later medieval developments and even modern geopolitical issues intriguing and compelling. In general, his writing is nothing short of sparkling. He has a knack for encapsulating his points in striking concluding sentences (sententia for my Roman orators). Reading this book was genuinely enjoyable, no mean feat given the complexity and distastefulness of the subject.
Jenkins deserves great credit for absolutely sparkling writing, clarity without oversimplifying, and sustained focus on a few chosen themes. Nevertheless, the book does have a number of weaknesses that would keep me from recommending it to anyone except a beginner. First, a terminological problem. Jenkins uses "monophysite" when he really should either use "miaphysite" or distinguish between miaphysites (Oriential Orthodox) and monophysites (Eutychians). Monophysite was a term of abuse hurled by Chalcedonians against opponents. This is a faux pas on par with consistently referring to Roman Catholics as papists. His defense is that miaphysite is unknown outside academia, but this is wrong for two reasons. The very churches he is speaking about use the term miaphysite to describe themselves, and his position as a popularizer means that he should be the one encouraging people new to the field to adopt terminology that is both more historically accurate and more respectful.
Another problem with the book is occasional sloppiness. Gallia Placidia is shown in a chart to have died in 450, but on the facing page her death is said to be in 455. Jenkins one time quotes an ancient source as referring to St. Paul when I am almost sure he meant St. Peter (which apostle does the Bishop of Rome represent?). I marked several other gaffes. None of these affect the argument of the book, but they are disappointing.
The most significant problem is that his chronology is wrong. The Jesus Wars did not begin in the fifth century. The rise of bishops as violent mob bosses using force to enforce orthodoxy and depose rivals predates the Council of Nicaea (325). Local violence and intermittent imperial intrusion were common from Nicaea to the Council of Constantinople (381). Indeed, one might look to the 380s and 390s as the time when the empire began to enforce orthodoxy aggressively, not only on Christians but even on pagans and Jews (cf. Charles Freeman, AD 381). Non-Nicene bishops were outlawed by imperial edict in 381. Further edicts in 391 and 392 suppressed religious expression by pagans and unleashed monks against their properties. The last Olympic games was held in 393. Jews were similarly restricted in their building rights. Thus, when Jenkins takes Nicene orthodoxy as a given around 400, he is failing to communicate to his readers how much that depended on a process very much like the one he is about to begin narrating.
The core of the book was expertly written, but I was also less than impressed both by the beginning and ending. I did not find the first two chapters to be particularly helpful in introducing the book, but once past them, it was wonderful. The final chapter struck me as very awkward. Jenkins seems a bit embarrassed by what his book uncovered and speaks very much to a Christian audience (hello, you have other readers!) in soothing tones. He seems to be suggesting that despite all the corruption he has uncovered and expounded at length regarding the process of orthodoxy, the questions raised and conclusions reached are all still valuable and valid for the present. I suppose that's one way to go, but I was disappointed that the final words of this rightfully unsettling work were devoted to smoothing ruffled feathers.