Throughout the period, baptism generated problems of interpretation in which dogma and discipline were intertwined. An essentially disciplinary question concerned the application of the Council of Vienne’s ruling that baptisms should not be conducted in private residences, except in the case of ‘princes’. But who counted as a ‘prince’? After the Reformation a more fundamental issue arose: was Calvinist baptism valid? The Congregation of the Council decided that it was. A troubled Capuchin, however, remained unconvinced and pressed the Inquisition, after prolonged discussion and investigation at the highest level, to permit his re-baptism and re-ordination. The Inquisition did not question the validity of Calvinist baptism as such, but an additional issue emerged: had he in fact been baptised in rosewater?

Chapter 5 examines how the Cappadocians utilise an array of protective measures against the devil. The sacrament of baptism is the first defence and the greatest protection against the devil’s attacks; at the same time, however, baptism heightens the likelihood of the devil’s advances. Amongst the numerous tactics that they employ to combat the ongoing threat of the devil, the Cappadocians appeal to the sign of the cross. They also teach on wearing the whole armour of God. These forms of protection emphasise the eschatological nature of the devil’s defeat, since they recall what Christ has done while also highlighting how spiritual warfare continues throughout the Christian life.

Taking the biblical parable of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15:11–32) and the “penitential Psalms” as sites for late antique and early medieval investigations of the effect of sin on the self, this chapter proposes that exegetes saw the self as malleable and permeable.  Commentaries and sermons framed the self as sinful but salvageable.  Changing views of agency, responsibility, and remedies produced shifts in representations of communal interests and penitential interpretations of well-known scriptural texts.  Protections against the penetrations and deformations of sin were erected in liturgical rituals and communal prayer.  The universal stain of sin fostered a porous relation between the individual and the community, each bound to the other in a metaphysical, corporate entity encasing all selves.  Christian views of individual autonomy created as well a spatial expanse of the individual interior in which the soul could wander, even become lost.  Emerging from that grim void to salvation was to grasp a lifeline of the penitential words of others, sung in concert, in an activation of universal memory, to transform the self into a citizen of the heavenly Jerusalem.

Through an analysis of his Pauline exegesis in the 390s, especially Romans 7, Chapter 2 demonstrates that Augustine develops a consistent interpretation of Paul on justification: faith justifies because it trusts God to give the grace of charity to fulfill the law by the Holy Spirit in baptism. The chapter situates this interpretation within the predominantly baptismal theology of justification in Ambrose and North Africa. This context unlocks how Augustine’s account of faith justifying by obtaining grace is intended to interpret the catechumen’s reception of the Holy Spirit in baptism; in Augustine’s own analogy, faith is the conception of grace, and baptism is its birth. Turning to ad Simplicianum (To Simplician), Augustine’s changed view on election preserves this interpretation of justification by faith. The chapter concludes by applying Augustine’s interpretation of Paul to his conversion in confessiones (Confessions), though this also reveals Augustine’s need to explain why faith sometimes fails to obtain grace.

This chapter gives fruitful attention to the role of the sacraments in the Confessions. It delineates the ways in which the sacrament of baptism structures the autobiographical books, with baptism foregrounded in the first book (Augustine’s baptism postponed), the central or hinge book (Book 5, in which Augustine’s baptism is again deferred), and the climactic book (Book 9, in which Augustine’s baptism is recounted, along with many other baptisms, quite a few of which did not take place within the chronological scope of Book 9). The Eucharist, which was for Augustine the other sacrament of initiation and for which baptism itself was a prerequisite, comes into clear view at the end of Book 9 and in Book 10. The exegetical books then treat Genesis as “a model for all of Christian life, and especially that of the church,” a life inaugurated in baptism and sustained by the Eucharist. Contrary to the view of some scholars, who see very few Eucharistic allusions in the Confessions, the chapter shows that many of Augustine’s images – especially of food and of milk – have Eucharistic overtones.

The chapter discusses the development of sacramental doctrine during a period of lively debate on the subject around the year 1200, with a focus on the relevance of the Fourth Lateran Council as a continuation of the eleventh-century ecclesiastical reform movement, and with stress on the unique relevance of Paris as the key centre of intellectual production.

The popes of the first decretal age addressed uncertainties about baptism, but left long loose ends for popes of the second decretal age to tie up.

The cultural level was low at the late ninth-century papal court, but an able pope could still have an impact north of the Alps.

The conversion of Constantine delayed the growth of papal government for half a century.

Origen’s examination of Jesus’s baptism in Against Celsus offers readers a particularly secure first footing for apprehending his sense of the Gospel narratives’ “mixed” character. That Jesus was baptized by John is hardly problematic, historically speaking. But the events narrated to have taken place directly after the baptism presented no less difficulty for readers in antiquity than they do for readers today. Origen preserves Celsus’s dismissal of the descent of the dove and voice from heaven as an obvious fiction. Origen, however, resists the judgment. Why? His reply to Celsus puts the whole complex of first principles detailed in Part I to work. According to Origen’s view, one can receive the narrative to be “true” inasmuch as it depicts, in figurative language drawn from prophetic literary tropes, Jesus’s own interior inspiration at the commencement of his public ministry. In short, the story narrates something real, something “historical” even, precisely insofar as it is entirely spiritual. The Evangelists then came to share in the same kind of vision Jesus is said to have had at his baptism and narrated “in figures” what they, too, had “perceived in their own understanding.”

Clare Johnson provides a careful discussion of the “other” six sacraments that the Roman Catholic Church and the Orthodox Church celebrate. Relying on the liturgical books themselves, she investigates their biblical roots, the logic behind their coherence, and their theological significance.

Harald Buchinger sketches the origins and complex evolutions of liturgies in Christian Antiquity. He focuses on patterns of worship and celebration developed in those times, underscoring how difficult it is to draw straightforward conclusions, mainly because of a paucity of sources.

Chapter 4 charts the provision and/or absence of instruction in Catholicism in the cultural worlds of the Pacific, which the bishops of Popayán framed as “spiritual pasture.” It begins with an analysis of the patterns of baptism and godparentage in the small city of Cartago, far from the gold mines where enslaved labourers shored up the white elite. The chapter examines two controversies that divided the mine and slave-owning elite and the upper echelons of the Church for decades; first, a debate over the stipend system in which slaveholders had to pay itinerant clergy to travel to the mines to administer the sacraments, and second, over mineros allowing enslaved people to work on holy days, despite myriad laws and papal bulls outlawing it. Ultimately, the remoteness of the mines from towns, and the disinterest of whites in settling there, meant that enslavers continued the long-held custom of enslaved people labouring on holy days and saving up gold dust to pacify them. Condemned by the bishops as “spiritual abandonment,” the custom helped to create conditions for the growth of the large free black population and perhaps the practice of their own religions that largely remain outside of view.

Leviticus has shaped both Jewish and Christian theology and practice over the centuries. The final chapter examines its influence in the rest of the Old Testament and into the Second Temple period and the New Testament. Levitical theology also influenced a Christian understanding of sacred space in church architecture as well as helping shape the Christian liturgical year.

This chapter examines rituals which took place after childbirth, uncovering evidence of baptisms, circumcisions, and even churching ceremonies that were held in domestic spaces. It suggests that a range of ceremonies we would now associate with public places of worship were frequently located in domestic spaces. It moves beyond studies which have argued that domestic baptism primarily took place in the home out of necessity, demonstrating that elective domestic baptism was more commonplace than has previously been acknowledged. Domestic ceremonies could also take place in networks of homes, being accommodated not in the family home, but in the home of a midwife, rabbi, or lay co-religionist. These ceremonies, and associated processions from the home to the place of public worship, marked the symbolic ending of the lying-in period, the departure of the mother from the home, and the welcoming of the child into the religious community. They emphasise the significance of the home as a setting of communal sociability and religious practice, and provide an important opportunity to consider the central place of the individual household within its congregation.

This chapter explores the spread of Christianity in Late Antiquity, focusing on archaeological evidence and methodological challenges in tracing its expansion. It examines how Christianity transitioned from a marginalised faith to an institutionalised religion, emphasising regional differences in its adoption across the Mediterranean and beyond. The chapter discusses a variety of materials, including early Christian inscriptions, artefacts, funerary practices and architectural remains such as churches, baptisteries and monasteries. Sites like the house church at Dura Europos and early Christian catacombs provide crucial insights into the religion’s early development. The study also highlights the role of missionary activity and the influence of state policies, particularly after Constantine’s legalisation of Christianity in the fourth century. A major argument is that Christianity spread unevenly, with urban centres adopting it earlier than rural areas. The transition was not uniform, as some regions experienced periods of resistance or syncretism with existing religious traditions. The chapter underscores the difficulty of identifying Christian material culture due to the overlap with pagan symbols. The chapter rounds off by calling for a more critical approach to interpreting archaeological evidence and suggests that future research should focus on regional case studies to refine our understanding of Christianity’s complex expansion.

Augustine’s preaching touches numerous aspects of his theology which are predominantly present in his most important treatises. The sacraments of the Church are treated in his controversies with heretics but they are also very much present in his sermons, where he teaches the sound doctrine of the Church and performs the Christian rites for the edification of the faithful. This chapter examines Augustine’s teaching on baptism and the Eucharist in his preaching. Having considered his definition of the sacraments in general in his preached works, it presents his teaching on the sacraments in his catechesis to the baptism candidates and to the newly baptised Christians of his congregation. The study further takes into consideration what Augustine says on baptism and the Eucharist in his sermons while addressing the problems of the Donatists and Pelagians. Augustine makes difficult theological concepts understandable to his flock by adapting his language to them.