The heroes of the Iliad, favourites of the gods, golden and predatory, had scorned the weak and downtrodden. So too, for all the honour that Julian paid them, had philosophers. The starving deserved no sympathy. Beggars were best rounded up and deported. Pity risked undermining a wise man’s self-control. Only fellow citizens of good character who, through no fault of their own, had fallen on evil days might conceivably merit assistance.
― Tom Holland, Dominion: The Making of the Western Mind
The Son of God, by becoming mortal, had redeemed all humanity. Not as a leader of armies, not as the conqueror of Caesars, but as a victim the Messiah had come. The message was as novel as it was shocking—and was to prove well suited to an age of trauma.
― Tom Holland, Dominion: How the Christian Revolution Remade the World
In his work, Tom Holland highlights the stark contrast between the values of ancient civilisations and the revolutionary message brought forth by Christianity. The heroes of the Iliad and the philosophers revered by Julian held a disdainful view towards the weak and destitute, believing that the suffering of the impoverished warranted no sympathy. In their eyes, the destitute would be dismissed or removed, as extending pity could jeopardise one’s self-discipline and rationality. Assistance, if any, was reserved exclusively for respectable citizens who had fallen into misfortune through no fault of their own.
Conversely, Jesus Christ’s message was a radical departure from these ancient norms. According to the Christian narrative, by choosing to become mortal, Jesus did not seek victory through martial prowess or imperial conquest. Instead, he presented himself as a victim, a stance that was profoundly shocking in its novelty. This radical message, centred on empathy and solidarity with the suffering, resonated deeply in an era marked by widespread trauma.
The Gospels’ moral message, emphasising “good news to the poor,” proclaimed liberty for captives, recovery of sight for the blind, and release for the oppressed. Compassion and care for the marginalised were not just principles but were actively embodied in Christ’s teachings and actions. This ethos represented a seismic shift from the previous paradigm, promoting a more inclusive and humane society.
However, a critical examination of contemporary Christian societies, whether in the evangelical West or Eastern Orthodoxy, reveals a tension between these foundational Christian values and the practices of modern-day adherents. Despite professing the teachings of Christ, these societies often display a desire to revert to a hierarchical order reminiscent of pre-Christian times. This aspiration is evidenced by a growing division between the wealthy and the impoverished, mirroring the social stratification of ancient Greek and Roman societies where slavery was normalised.
The original Christian message of compassion is in tension with the socio-political realities of modern Christian communities. Reconciling Christ’s teachings with structures that perpetuate inequality and exclusion has always been a challenge. However, current developments suggest a decisive shift towards these prevailing structures.
The role of religion in Greek and Roman societies was more aligned with superstition and the maintenance of traditional practices than with genuine acts of devotion, as understood in modern religious contexts. The primary aim was often to ensure the stability and prosperity of the community rather than to foster a personal or moral connection with the divine.
Religion was deeply intertwined with daily life and civic duties in ancient Greece. The gods were seen as powerful forces that could influence all aspects of life, from personal fortunes to the outcomes of wars and harvests. Rituals, sacrifices, and festivals were performed meticulously to appease the gods and ensure their favour. This was less about personal devotion and more about upholding societal norms and preventing any divine displeasure that could lead to misfortune. Religious observance was a civic duty, integral to the community’s well-being and cohesion.
Similarly, in Roman society, religion was a cornerstone of public and private life, but it was primarily focused on the pax deorum or the peace of the gods. The Romans believed that their success as a civilisation was directly linked to their proper observance of religious rituals and the maintenance of favourable relations with the gods. The state religion was characterised by a detailed system of rituals and ceremonies, which were often conducted by priests and public officials. The emphasis was on orthopraxy (correct practice) rather than orthodoxy (correct belief). Ensuring that rituals were performed correctly was considered essential for the continuation of Rome’s prosperity and disaster prevention.
This pragmatic approach to religion meant that traditional practices were maintained largely to avoid offending the gods and inviting calamity. Religious festivals, sacrifices, and auguries were essential to the state’s functioning and its citizens’ well-being. The gods were seen as guardians of the community’s stability, and religious rites were a means of securing their protection and favour.
Thus, in both Greek and Roman contexts, religion functioned more as a set of customary practices aimed at preserving societal order and averting disaster rather than as a deeply personal or moral endeavour. This contrasts sharply with Christianity’s message, which emphasises a personal relationship with God, moral transformation, and compassion for the marginalised, marking a significant departure from the traditional religious practices of the ancient world.
Thus, this reversion to the old-world order is anything but new. Although we thought that the perversion of the Catholic Church had been overcome, we see that the wolves in sheepskins that Jesus warned against are gaining power once again and planning to suppress the good news to the poor, nullify the proclaimed liberty for captives, perpetuate the darkness for the blind, and increase the number of the oppressed.