History remembers constantine's victory at the battle of the Milvian Bridge. In 312 Constantine invaded Italy. Since his accession in 306 at York, the emperor had been residing primarily at Trier and campaigning on the Rhine frontier. He commanded a large army, most of it stationed in northern Gaul and Britain. For his invasion he took only a modest expeditionary force. In Italy the emperor Maxentius commanded another substantial army. To guard against an attack from the east by Licinius, yet another rival emperor who controlled the Balkans, Maxentius had moved troops to garrison Verona at the foot of the eastern Alps in northern Italy. Constantine and his army meanwhile crossed the western Alps at Susa and captured Turin and Milan as they advanced down the Po River valley. After a hard siege, they also captured Verona.

Constantine and his army next marched south on the Flaminian Way through central Italy toward Rome. Although in initial skirmishes Maxentius' troops prevailed, he himself remained inside the capital's massive wall. Constantine's soldiers then approached the Milvian Bridge, which carried the Flaminian Way across the Tiber River about two miles north of the wall. Maxentius' army crossed to meet them, and Maxentius himself joined his troops a bit later. At that point, or perhaps already earlier in anticipation of the invasion, his soldiers cut the permanent bridge and replaced it with a temporary pontoon bridge. But after they were routed in battle, their attempt to isolate the city turned into a bottleneck.

Before the battle in 312 the milvian bridge had already been in use for more than five hundred years. The bridge was first attested in 207 b.c. when a crowd went out from Rome to greet messengers bringing news of a victory over a Carthaginian army in Italy. The recent construction of the Flaminian Way had no doubt increased traffic between Rome and northern Italy. This new highway was named after Gaius Flaminius, who had instigated its construction during his censorship in 220 b.c.; the “Mulvian” namesake behind the construction of the bridge is unknown. Over the centuries renovations were sometimes necessary for the bridge, organized under the Republic by magistrates such as the censors and subsequently by emperors such as Augustus.

Two features distinguished the neighborhoods in this northern suburb around the bridge. One was the presence of large villas on both sides of the river. The other was a reputation for scandal and debauchery. Marcus Antonius once stopped to drink in a tavern at Saxa Rubra, north of the bridge. Nero enjoyed the nightlife in the vicinity of the bridge, where “he might indulge in lewd behavior more easily outside the city.” From the bridge Wide Street ran in a straight line into the center of Rome. On this “Broadway” young men liked to show off by spinning the wheels of their chariots.

During the early years of his reign constantine had campaigned in Gaul and Britain and resided primarily in Trier. In 310, in the emperor's presence at Trier, an orator celebrated the successful outcome of his recent confrontation with Maximian, one of the original Tetrarchs. Despite his abdication in 305, Maximian had returned to imperial rule to help his son, Maxentius, who had become an emperor at Rome in 306. That assistance had included an alliance with Constantine, who was himself looking for support. Because he had been proclaimed as an emperor by his father's troops in Britain, his accession had defied the wishes of Galerius, the current dominant senior emperor in the Tetrarchy. Even after Galerius had begrudgingly recognized him as a Caesar, a junior emperor, in the Tetrarchy, Constantine's position was still shaky. In 307 he married a daughter of Maximian, who then sanctioned his new son-in-law's rank as an Augustus, a senior emperor.

This alliance with the dissident dynasty of Maximian and Maxentius soon became a liability, however. After a confrontation with his son at Rome, Maximian fled to his son-in-law in Gaul. But at a summit meeting in 308 Maximian had to retire again as emperor, and Galerius again accepted Constantine as a Caesar. In 310 Maximian challenged his host son-in-law and tried to buy the loyalty of troops in southern Gaul. Although Constantine soon suppressed this uprising at Marseille, the threat remained until Maximian's shameful death.

Only two generations after his death, memories of the historical Constantine were fading. According to a preacher at Antioch in 387, “he founded many great cities and he conquered many barbarians. We remember none of them.” Historians nevertheless continued to read and write about Constantine, either directly as an earlier emperor or indirectly as an influential paradigm. As a social process this shaping of the emperor's legacy was entangled with some of the important trends of late antiquity, including the impact of Constantinople as an eastern capital during the fourth century, the establishment of barbarian kingdoms in the West during the fifth century, and the attempted reconquest of the West by the eastern emperor Justinian during the sixth century.

Thinking about Constantine provided a common denominator for Christians, who usually appreciated him, and for pagans, who typically resented him. For both Christians and pagans Constantine remained meaningful. They could share a discourse even as they disagreed about his significance. As a result, both Christians and pagans, both supporters and critics, became, wittingly or not, ecclesiastical historians. Evaluating episodes from Constantine's reign offered an opportunity to assess the place of Christianity in late antique society.

PAGAN CRITICS

At the beginning of the sixth century Zosimus composed a history of the Roman empire that covered the period from the uncertainty over imperial succession in the early third century to the coming of the barbarians in the early fifth century.

When Colin McCahon produced his painting I Paul, to you at Ngatimote it was the first step towards an important development in his artistic career. One of the features which became distinctive of McCahon's body of work was his ability to relocate the Christian story in a recognizably Aotearoa New Zealand context. The particular significance of McCahon's Paul was that it was the first painting in which he placed a cast of biblical characters in a New Zealand landscape. Subsequently McCahon explored what it might mean to locate the crucifixion of Jesus amongst the hills of New Zealand. But it was the apostle Paul whom McCahon first positioned in the artist's own country, in solidarity with McCahon's own people. We do not know why he chose first to work with Paul, but whatever the reasons, whether conscious or unconscious, the development seems fitting, because it is Paul who, after Jesus, is acknowledged to be the person most responsible for directing and shaping the way the Christian church has reflected on and articulated its faith. Paul has been called the “second founder of Christianity” and his writings have influenced Christianity more than any other single individual. It therefore seems appropriate that at the earliest stage of his painting of biblical characters McCahon chose first to embed Paul's narrative within the context of New Zealand.

In the immediate aftermath of World War II, Colin McCahon, one of Aotearoa New Zealand's foremost artists, produced a painting called I Paul, to you at Ngatimote. In this painting McCahon, who is increasingly ranked as one of the masters of mid-twentieth-century modern art, did what Pauline interpreters have often attempted but have consistently struggled to do – to situate the apostle Paul within a particular landscape in order to tease out the significance of his message for a specific locale. McCahon does not offer many clues to the content of the scroll which Paul holds in his hand for the people of Ngatimote, New Zealand, but several aspects of the painting are revealing and unintentionally crystallize issues which have frequently been a concern of Pauline scholars, especially over the last century. The painting explores war and its devastating consequences. Flying above the figure of Paul is what appears to be a military aeroplane and behind Paul (as well as a self-portrait of McCahon) is barbed wire. In other words, for McCahon both the context of Paul's message and the content of his letters are of this world. In the midst of a landscape of war and violence Paul is to be found on the earth, with the people, presumably because he has a message which, despite the reality of the struggles of this world, may offer hope and solidarity to the community of which he is a part.

Introduction

In the discussion of the concept of inheritance in Romans 4 and 8 above, several themes have emerged. First, the term refers to a geographical reality which includes the renewal of the earth. While inheritance is often read in individualized and spiritualized terms, an exploration of the concept in Romans 4 and 8 suggests that instead it should be understood as a restoration of the entire cosmos. Closely related to this dimension of the concept is the claim to universal sovereignty which is suggested for those who are considered “heirs of God.” On the one hand, this aspect of Paul's eschatology is likely to have been viewed as a bold counter-claim to the worldview being presented by the Roman Empire of Paul's day. On the other hand, as was hinted at in Romans 4 and made more explicit in Rom. 8:17, the language of inheritance seems to have simultaneously been a subversion of all other paths to lordship. Those who are “heirs of Christ,” Paul insists, will rule not in the manner of imperial power but in line with the example of the crucified messiah whom they follow.

In all English translations of Romans and in the most recent editions of the Greek New Testament, Rom. 8:17 is the last explicit reference to heirs or inheritance. But this is not the case in all manuscripts of the Greek New Testament.

Completing a project of this length is both demanding and rewarding. There have been many stimulating moments as I have attempted to come to terms with Paul's thought world. But the process has also been taxing and I would like to acknowledge the support I have received along the way.

I am grateful to the John Baldwin Memorial Scholarship Fund, which contributed to financial needs during the first two years of this project.

This book began life as a thesis, which was supervised by Associate Professor Chris Marshall and Professor Paul Trebilco. They always found the right balance between offering much needed guidance and fostering independent thought. Despite the geographical distance, they provided me with encouragement and support as well as with creative and disciplined models of scholarship. I will never forget Chris' friendship during my fragile health in the early stages of the thesis.

Dr. Andrew Shepherd and Dr. Ingrid Shepherd contributed in practical ways to this book – Andrew offered stimulating conversation and musings, and Ingrid was a dedicated proofreader. Janelle sacrificed much during a seemingly endless, study-oriented phase of our relationship. I would like to acknowledge her support during the writing of this book.

Throughout the many phases of this project, Mum and Dad reminded me in myriad ways of what it means to show faith, hope and love. Duncan Philps helped with proofreading and I have appreciated his ongoing, gentle presence in my life.

If it is the case that interpretations of inheritance in Paul have made little or no attempt to situate this language within the social and political context of the Greco-Roman first century, then it is not surprising that readings of inheritance typically give little thought to the extent to which it was subversive of its wider socio-political environment. In order to redress this tendency, I will describe some aspects of the social, political and religious environment of the city of Rome and the Roman Empire during the time when Paul wrote Romans. As noted in the Introduction, one of the arguments of the present study is that the language of inheritance evokes ideas about God's future renewal of this world and (in broad terms) what such a world might look like. It will also be suggested that the language of inheritance conveys expectations as to who inherits the land and how land (and by extension, power, control and sovereignty) should be distributed and managed in society. If this is an accurate understanding of inheritance in Romans (a question which remains to be explored in this study) then there are aspects of Greco-Roman imperial society with which the inheritance language will have jarred and clashed. What were the expectations of the Roman leaders and the general population with regard to an ideal society and empire? What did they want for society and how did they think this would come about (or had already been achieved)?

Introduction

The discussion of inheritance (κληρονόμος) in Rom. 4:13–25 concluded that it refers to a geographical reality which includes the concept of the people of God living on the restored earth, and that the term also carries with it political significance. The only other undisputed use of κληρονόμος and its cognates in Romans is in Rom. 8:17, which takes its place within the following text:

Inheritance, Romans and Galatians

The discussion of inheritance in Romans found that for Paul the concept refers to a geographical reality which includes the renewal of creation and that it also expresses the universal sovereignty which will be given to those who are “heirs” of the promise. It is apparent from the discussion of these texts that inheritance should not be understood in spiritualized and individualized terms but is best read as one way in which Paul refers to the future transformation of the earth and God's people. But what of Galatians? To what extent is there such a this-worldly emphasis when Paul uses the word “inheritance” in this letter?

There are certainly some parallels between one of the passages considered above (Rom. 4:13–18) and one of the texts in Galatians (3:15–29) which explicitly uses the language of inheritance. There are, for example, striking similarities between Gal. 3:16, 19, 21, 26–29 and Rom. 4:13 and there is also conceptual affinity between Rom. 4:14 and Gal. 3:18 and Rom. 4:16 and Gal. 3:15–18. In both contexts Paul draws on Genesis 15, 17 and 18 in order to argue that a worldwide family was always envisaged. Paul also suggests in both Romans 4 and Galatians 3 that this family would be characterized by faith, not by the law or circumcision. Common to both texts is also the conviction that this family is marked out by those who believe in Jesus Christ.

Introduction

This description of some of the features of Greco-Roman society provides a backdrop for a reading of inheritance (κληρονόμος) language in Romans. In what follows I will explore the nature and characteristics of the inheritance and the degree to which this contributes to an overall counter-imperial narrative in Romans. The present chapter takes the first steps towards this goal, examining κληρονόμος in Rom. 4:13–25 in order to consider the contribution this term makes to Paul's argument and to begin to understand his message within its first-century social, religious and political context.

Having considered the uses of inheritance in Romans and having then compared these with the use of the word in Galatians, I propose in this chapter to ask how the term should be understood in 1 Corinthians, the only other undisputed Pauline letter where the word occurs, and also in Colossians, a letter whose authorship is contested. Once more the focus of this chapter is determined by the findings from the study on Romans, where themes of earthly renewal, universal sovereignty, and self-sacrifice were shown to be closely associated with the language of inheritance. When the word is used in 1 Corinthians and Colossians, to what degree are these themes similarly evident and to what extent do they challenge the reading of inheritance proposed above? To ask these questions is to seek both support and critique for the proposed understanding of inheritance and to allow the different subject matter of these letters to bring further clarity to how inheritance is conceptualized.

The primary question which needs to be addressed with regard to inheritance in 1 Corinthians is whether Paul is thinking in spiritual, non-material terms when he uses the word or whether he is intending it in this-worldly, corporeal terms.