But, in the end, appearance is not the main thing. But is it possible to finally eradicate barbaric savagery? The answer to this question is given by another early Christian legend, very similar to the Life of Christopher, "The Story of St. Christomaeus" (BHG, 2056), which is part of the circle of apocryphal "walks" of the Apostles Andrew and Bartholomew. This text in its Greek version has not yet been published[39], and we are introducing it into scholarly circulation for the first time. Legend tells how an angel appeared to a certain ogre, who was prowling in search of prey, and forbade him to touch the apostles and disciples, who were just nearby. Terrified by the heavenly fire, the savage agrees to carry out the order of the angel, but when the angel commands him to help the apostles, he dares to object: "Lord, I do not possess free human thought and do not know their language. If I follow them, how will I be able to eat when I am hungry?" The angel answered him: "God will grant you good thoughts and will turn your heart to meekness (παράγη σοι γνώμην άγαθήν καί μεταστρέφη την καρδίαν σου εις ήμερότητα)." Being "sealed [with the sign of the cross] in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, he became meek and did no evil; the Holy Spirit dwelt in him, who, having strengthened his heart, softened him and turned him to the knowledge of God." In such an enlightened form, the cannibal appeared before the apostles. "He was six cubits tall, his face was wild, his eyes burned like fiery lamps, his teeth hung from his mouth like those of a wild boar, his fingernails were crooked like sickles, and his toenails were like those of a large lion. He looked like it was impossible to stay alive if you saw his face." At the sight of this monster, the disciple of the apostles Alexander collapsed to the ground, Andrew, "dead", pointed to the cannibal Bartholomew, after which both fled, "abandoning their disciples". But then God reproached the apostles for cowardice, and in the meantime the cannibal announced his spiritual transformation to their disciples Rufus and Alexander, so they began to call their teachers back. Andrei and Bartholomew returned, but still "from fear they could not look him in the face." He opened his arms to them and said: "Why are you afraid to look at my appearance? I am a servant of the Most High God." Here the tamed cannibal calls his name - Christ. Before the whole company entered the "city of the Parthians", the tamed savage offered to cover his face so that the inhabitants would not be frightened. But when the townspeople in the circus set wild beasts on the apostles, Christ asked God to return him to his former nature. "And God hearkened unto his prayer, and turned his heart and mind to his former savagery (μετέστρεψε... πρός θεριωδίαν)… He opened his face... and rushed at the beasts and tore them asunder... before the people. Seeing him tearing the beasts to pieces, the crowd was greatly frightened and seized with great terror. Everyone rushed out of the circus, panicked at each other, and many in the crowd died of fear of his appearance. Seeing that everyone was running... Andrew approached Christomaeus, laid his hand on his head and said: "The Holy Spirit commands you that the natural savagery (ή αγρίος φύσις) depart from you"... And in the same hour good nature returned to him." In the meantime, the townspeople sent to the Apostle Bartholomew with a request: "Do not allow us to die from fear of the appearance of that man!" When the Apostle ordered the people to gather again in the circus for catechesis, they answered: "Forgive us, we are afraid to go there because of that beast-like man, for many of us have died of terror before him." Bartholomew encouraged them: "Do not be afraid, follow me, and you will see him affectionate and meek." And indeed, "seeing [the townspeople] walking with the apostles, Christ took their two disciples, Rufus and Alexander, by the hands, approached the apostles, bowed down to them and kissed them. And all the people were amazed, and glorified God, seeing the form of Christ, how meek he had become." The ennobled cannibal baptized all the townspeople, then revived and also baptized those who died from fear of him, and in the end brought back to life even the animals he had torn to pieces! Then, bidding farewell to the apostles, he went to the emperor Decius (here the narrative finally coincides with the Life of Christopher) and received the crown of martyrdom.

Although the legend seems to be intended to glorify Christomay, the author constantly unites with the reader against his hero, seen either through the eyes of frightened apostles, or through the eyes of citizens dying of terror. In the "humorous" scene that depicts Andrei and Bartholomew as cowards, we are clearly invited to sympathize with them, rather than condemn them. If the superficial edification of the story is that even a cannibal can become a Christian, then its inner meaning, which makes its way, perhaps contrary to the author's will, is quite the opposite: even having become a Christian, the barbarian still remains a cannibal. The beast always slumbers in him, even when, by God's command, he temporarily turns into a meek lamb.

Having taken the first step, adopting the very discourse of barbarism, Christians have already embarked on the path of assimilating Roman ideas about barbarians. In apologetic writings, the motive that Christianity is beneficial for the Empire (which persecuted Christians, it would seem, should not care about!), since it helps to soften the barbaric temper, sounds more and more insistently. "There is no other people," says Arnobius in the second century, "so barbarous in temper and [to such an extent] without meekness (tarn barbari moris et mansuetudinem nesciens), which, being converted by His love, would not soften its cruelty and, having regained serenity, would not pass over to peace-loving moods (molliverit asperitatem suam et in placidos sensus adsumpta tranquillitate migraverit)" [41]. Here is what Origen writes: "With the coming of Christ, the manners of the universe everywhere changed in the direction of gentleness (έπί τό ήμερώτερον)... All barbarians who have recourse to the Word of God will become incredibly law-abiding and more meek (νομιμώτατοι εσονται καί ήμερώτεροι)"[42]. This motif is interesting because it essentially contradicts the basic tone of Christian apologetics, the thesis that barbarians perceive the new religion better than the subjects of the Empire. Such imitation in relation to imperial discourse had colossal consequences for the fate of imperial Christianity.

3

Apologists insisted on the universal nature of their religion not only in the name of legitimizing it. The early Christians lived in tense, daily anticipation of the end of the world, and the Gospels said that it would not come until the Word was preached to the ends of the earth. Origen, justifying the delay in the Second Coming, writes: "For there are still many not only barbarian, but also our peoples, who have not heard the Christian Word until now... It is reported that the Gospel has not yet been preached to all the Ethiopians, especially those who live beyond the river [the Nile]. Neither the Sers [the Chinese] nor the Ariacins have yet heard Christian preaching. And what about the British or Germans living near the Ocean? And the barbarian Dacians, and the Sarmatians, and the Scythians – most of them had not yet heard the word of the Gospel either"[43]. Macarius Magnus believes that the end of the world did not come because the Gospel had not yet been preached to the "seven nations of the Indies" and "to the Ethiopians, who are called the long-lived" (Macarii Magnis Apocriticus, II, 13). Thus, the spread of Christianity brought the Second Coming closer. An enterprise of this magnitude could not have been the result of ordinary human effort. Therefore, the conversion of foreign countries was attributed in the Christian consciousness not to the activity of ordinary people, but to the apostles.

In the apocryphal "Walks of the Apostles", which began to appear in the second and third centuries, quite a lot is said about how the disciples of Christ divided "the whole world" among themselves by lot for a future mission. The fact that the plot of missionary work among real barbarians appeared rather late in the "journeys" is evidenced by the difference in sources regarding the results of the apostolic lot. On the whole, the farthest countries were the lot of Bartholomew, Thomas, Matthias, Simon, and Andrew, but there was no agreement on which of them converted Parthia, who converted India, and who converted Ethiopia almost until the end of the Byzantine period. Interestingly, corrections were made here by Nicephorus Kallistos Xanthopoulos, a church historian of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, who added the island of Taprobana (Ceylon) and the "people of the Brahmins" to the list of countries converted by the Apostle Thomas. On the other hand, even the most culturally alien of the objects of the apostolic preaching, the inhabitants of the "city of cannibals" converted by Andrew and Matthias, are not barbarians in the proper sense of the word in the original version of the legend: the fairy-tale space of these apocryphal "journeys" most of all resembles the conventional scenery of a Hellenistic novel. The apostles here suffer from the intrigues of the pagans, from their cruelty – but, strange as it may seem, not from their uncivilized ones. The cultural barrier between the apostles and the "cannibals" will, as we shall see, be conjectured later (see p. 246).

Although none of the Apocrypha states that the apostles visited the Sarmatians or, say, the Massagetae, nevertheless the early Christians were firmly convinced that Christ's messengers converted "the whole world." In this sense, we can speak of the missionary pride of the young religion: "Both the Greeks and the barbarians had many legislators and teachers who preached dogmas and proclaimed the truth," exclaims Origen, "but... no one has been able to inculcate what he believed to be the truth in the various peoples (εθνεσι διαφόροις)"[47]. However, the apologists had a very peculiar idea of mission. For example, the number of missionaries did not matter significantly. "The Word was able to be proclaimed throughout the whole world," writes Pamphilus the Martyr (3rd-4th centuries), "so that both Greeks and barbarians, both wise and foolish, clung to Jesus' piety, although there were few teachers (καίτοιγε ούδέ των διδασκάλων πλεοναζόντων)"[48]. Nor did there exist any idea of preparing a missionary for his undertaking during this period. How, for example, was the problem of the language of preaching solved? It is clear that the gift of "speaking in tongues" did not remain with the apostles after Pentecost (cf. p. 17), which means that translation problems must have arisen. Indeed, in the apocryphal Syriac Acts of Judas Thomas, the motif of linguistic misunderstanding on the part of the barbarians is heard only once, at the very beginning of the work; Then the words of the Apostle are understood only by one Jewish maidservant, who recounts his speech to the others[49]. However, later, as the fairy-tale element in the narrative intensifies, this problem somehow disappears by itself: the reader never finds out in which dialect Thomas preached in India. Apparently, all these problems had to be solved by themselves, thanks to divine intervention.

In general, the conversion of the barbarians by the apostles was thought to be a purely symbolic enterprise. The barbarians had to come to God on their own, and the participation of Christians in this process was perceived as secondary, auxiliary. "Such is the true Word of the divine, O men of Hellenism and barbarian, Chaldean and Assyrian, Egyptian and Libyan, Indian and Ethiopian, Celtic and Latin... so that you, having run [to us], may be taught by us (προσδραμόντες διδαχθήτε παρ' ήμών)[50]. This fatalistic perception of Christianization did not encourage the establishment of real contact with the barbarians.

The early Christians did not have an answer to the simple question of how to treat the cruelty of the barbarians, their devastating raids. When the enemy of Christianity, Kelier, declares that the idea of the fraternal union of all mankind will lead to only one thing: "the whole earth will be under the rule of lawless and savage barbarians," Origen retorts to him as follows: "If the barbarians have recourse to the Word of God, they will become law-abiding and meek." And if they don't? Kelier is perplexed: "After all, it is impossible that Asia, and Europe, and Libya, Greeks and barbarians, up to the very ends of the universe, would agree to a single law! But Origen is imperturbable: "This is indeed impossible in the flesh (τάχα αληθώς αδύνατον... έν σώματι). But it is quite possible for those who have been freed from it"[51]. The disputants speak different languages: the harsh experience of Roman statehood speaks through the mouth of Celsus, and the eschatological aspirations of early Christianity through the mouth of Origen.

Thus, in the pre-state era, Christians created their own ideal of the missionary – the image of the "apostle among the barbarians", but this ideal was devoid of any features of any concreteness. Only much later was this image reinterpreted as missionary (see p. 142).

Chapter II: Missionary Work of the Late Roman Era (III-V Centuries)

I

In the early days of its existence, Christianity spread across the Empire implicitly, from person to person rather than as a result of missionary activity organized by the Church. There was no deliberate propaganda outside the Empire. And yet, no later than the second half of the third century, the process of Christianization of the barbarian principalities began[53]. According to the historian Sozomenos, "for almost all barbarians, the reason for the adoption of Christian teaching (πρεσβεύειν τό δόγμα των Χριστιανών) was the wars that occurred at times with the Romans and foreigners during the reign of Gallienus and his successors... When the church expanded to the whole Roman universe, faith also moved through the barbarians themselves (καί διά αυτών τών βαρβάρων ή θρησκεία έχώρει). The tribes around the Rhine, the Celts and the farthest of the Galatians, those who live by the Ocean, and the Goths, and those of their neighbors who formerly sat on the banks of the Ister River, had already been Christianized (έχριστιάνιζον) (Sozomeni II, 6).

The same situation developed in the East. In Persia, the appearance of Christianity is associated with Roman captives from Antioch, whom King Shapur settled in Khuzestan in 256, appointing the Greek Demetrius as bishop for them. It is in this sense that we must understand the words from the Syrian Chronicle of Saard, that "Christians spread throughout all countries and became very numerous in the East... The Romans spread Christianity in the East"[55]. We have no information about the dispatch of special missionaries from the Empire to preach to the barbarians. Church hierarchs embarked on a long journey only to minister to the already existing Christian communities, which consisted mainly of captives. For example, such was Averky, Bishop of Hierapolis, who, according to his life, in the second century "visited the churches throughout Mesopotamia and bequeathed to them a single rule." The hagiographer puts the following words about Averky into the mouth of the baptized Persian Barchasan: "We will speak out in favor of calling him Equal-to-the-Apostles (ίσαπόστολον). For we know of no one else who has traveled so much land and sea in the care of his brethren, except for those first disciples of Christ, whom this man evidently imitates. Thus, although Averky's concern is mainly for people who have already been baptized, he is equated with the apostles: such is the paradoxical reinterpretation of the apostolic heritage.