¹ “Eines Friseurs an der theologischen Perrücke des Kaisers.” (Overbeck, Franz, Kirchenlexicon. Materialien. Christentum und Kultur [ed. von Reibnitz, Barbara; bd. 6.1 of Werke und Nachlaß; Stuttgart: J. B. Metzler, 1996] 246Google Scholar); Burckhardt, Jacob, The Age of Constantine the Great (trans. Hadas, Moses; New York: Pantheon, 1949) 260, 283Google Scholar. Of course, modern aspersion cast upon Eusebius does not stem from these two alone, but their views are representative and frequently recur in secondary literature. Such widespread judgment is recounted in Ruhbach's, Gerhard “Die politische Theologie Eusebs von Caesarea,” in Die Kirche angesichts der konstantinischen Wende (ed. Ruhbach, Gerhard; Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1976) 236–58Google Scholar. The endurance of such tropes is evinced in the recent use of Eusebius to characterize a presidential speechwriter. See Webb, Stephen H., “Providence and the President (or, The New Eusebius),” Reviews in Religion and Theology 15 (2008) 622–29CrossRefGoogle Scholar.

² See, e.g., Barnes, Timothy D., Constantine and Eusebius (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1981)Google Scholar; Hollerich, Michael J., “Religion and Politics in the Writings of Eusebius: Reassessing the First ‘Court Theologian’,” CH 59 (1990) 309–25Google Scholar; idem, Eusebius of Caesarea's Commentary on Isaiah (Oxford: Clarendon, 1999); Johnson, Aaron P., Ethnicity and Argument in Eusebius’ Praeparatio Evangelica (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006)CrossRefGoogle Scholar.

³ For a review and problematization of such attempts see Singh, Devin, “Disciplining Eusebius: Discursive Power and Representation of the Court Theologian,” StPatr LXII.10 (ed. Vincent, Markus; Louvain: Peeters, 2013) 89–102Google Scholar.

⁴ I limit my in-depth examination to these two works. Admittedly, fixation on these texts to the exclusion of his biblical and theological studies has in part contributed to the skewed view of Eusebius as ideologue. While not wanting to contribute to this tendency, I focus on these works since here we find Eusebius's most direct articulation of the God-emperor relation. I also intend to show that, even within such limited scope, more nuanced reading of these texts challenges prevailing assumptions. I follow the translation of the Laud. Const and De Sepulchro Christi (Sep. Chr.) in Drake, H. A., In Praise of Constantine: A Historical Study and New Translation of Eusebius’ Tricennial Orations (University of California Publications: Classical Studies 15; Berkeley: University of California Press, 1976)Google Scholar. For the Vit. Const. I follow Eusebius of Caesarea, Life of Constantine (ed. and trans. Averil Cameron and Stuart George Hall; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999).

⁵ Portrayals of Eusebius figure prominently in ongoing discussions of political theology. The next section discusses the work of Erik Peterson, who made Eusebius a central foil for his claim that “true” Christian theology yields no possible political theology. See Peterson, Erik, Der Monotheismus als politisches Problem. Ein Beitrag zur Geschichte der politischen Theologie im Imperium Romanum (Leipzig: Hegner, 1935)Google Scholar. Reprinted in Peterson, Erik, Theologische Traktate (Munich: Heinrich Wild, 1950)Google Scholar. Citations here refer to the English edition: Peterson, Erik, Theological Tractates (ed. and trans. Hollerich, Michael J.; Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2011)Google Scholar. Peterson's portrayal of Eusebius was in turn critiqued by his former friend Carl Schmitt, who saw Peterson's early treatise as an assault on his own position. See Schmitt, Carl, Political Theology II: The Myth of the Closure of any Political Theology (trans. Hoelzl, Michael and Ward, Graham; Cambridge, U.K.: Polity, 2008)Google Scholar. A closer look at Eusebian thought thus relates to such exchanges and to the contemporary conversations that draw on them, such as, e.g., Fletcher, Paul, Disciplining the Divine: Toward an (Im)political Theology (Farnham, U.K.: Ashgate, 2009)Google Scholar; Political Theologies: Public Religions in a Post-Secular World (ed. Hent de Vries and Lawrence Eugene Sullivan; New York: Fordham University Press, 2006).

⁶ Contrary to the general “muddle-headedness” of which Shapland accuses Eusebius, I see at present no need to revoke the view that Eusebius was the most learned, respected, and eminent “churchman” of his day (Athanasius of Alexandria, The Letters of Saint Athanasius Concerning the Holy Spirit [ed. and trans. C. R. B. Shapland; New York: Philosophical Library, 1951] 21), as reported by Drake, In Praise of Constantine, ix, xi, xii. Withholding such swift dismissals, and attempting a more attentive and sophisticated reading of the text, reveal a potential coherence to Eusebius's thought.

⁷ On Eusebian orthodoxy see now Christopher Beeley, A., The Unity of Christ: Continuity and Conflict in Patristic Tradition (New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 2012) 49–104Google Scholar.

⁸ This inquiry also supplements much contemporary discourse about theology and the political that draws almost entirely upon the Augustinian duality of civitas terrena and civitas dei. Such has led either to varieties of oppositional thinking and sectarian (or communitarian) withdrawal or measured, so-called realist engagement. I do not intend here to set forth a comprehensive alternative, but offer potential changes in part facilitated by a more serious consideration of Eusebius's vision and legacy. It may be that the Eusebian blurring of spheres provides a better descriptive lens for grasping the reality of a continuous intermeshing of the theological and political. In the least, it offers a potentially fruitful additional approach to the oppositional model that dominates.

⁹ Goodenough, Erwin R., “The Political Philosophy of Hellenistic Kingship,” YCS 1 (1928) 55–104Google Scholar; Baynes, Norman, “Eusebius and the Christian Empire,” Annuaire de l’institut de philologie et d’histoire orientales 2 (1933) 13–18Google Scholar. Reprinted in Baynes, Norman, “Eusebius and the Christian Empire,” in Byzantine Studies and Other Essays (ed. idem; London: Althone Press, University of London, 1955) 168–72Google Scholar. Citations here indicate the reprint.

¹⁰ A sampling of the many passing references that appear to take Baynes at his word includes Cranz, F. Edward, “Kingdom and Polity in Eusebius of Caesarea,” HTR 45 (1952) 47–66CrossRefGoogle Scholar, at 48; Wallace-Hadrill, D. S., Eusebius of Caesarea (London: A. R. Mowbray, 1960) 177–78Google Scholar; Runciman, Steven, The Byzantine Theocracy (The Weil Lectures; Cambridge, U.K.: Cambridge University Press, 1977) 22CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Stringer, Daniel, “The Political Theology of Eusebius Pamphili, Bishop of Caesarea,” Patristic and Byzantine Review 1 (1982) 137–51, at 137–38Google Scholar. Dvornik's massive study takes Baynes as a starting point but builds its own substantive case. It does, however, repeat the conclusions by remarkably neglecting Eusebius's use of biblical material. Dvornik, Francis, Early Christian and Byzantine Political Philosophy: Origins and Background (2 vols.; Dumbarton Oaks Studies 9; Washington, D.C.: Dumbarton Oaks Center for Byzantine Studies, Trustees for Harvard University, 1966) esp. 611–58Google Scholar.

¹¹ Baynes, “Eusebius,” 172 [italics added].

¹² Such close reproduction of the tone of simplicity is striking: “Eusebius simply adopted the doctrines of Diotogenes, Ecphantus and Plutarch, with suitable modifications” (Runciman, Byzantine Theocracy, 22 [italics added]); “In various kinds of ways therefore, prevailing Romano-Hellenistic modes of political philosophy exerted an enormous influence on Eusebius’ thought about Constantine. Particularly the idea of the emperor's temporal reign as reflection down on earth of the heavenly and eternal Logos, was originally a well-known pagan philosophical idea which Eusebius simply took over” (Glenn Chesnut, “The Ruler and the Logos in Neopythagorean, Middle Platonic, and Late Stoic Political Philosophy,” ANRW II.16.2 [1978] 1310–32, at 1332 [italics added]).

¹³ Baynes, “Eusebius,” 168. Note also Baynes's curious juxtaposition in the claim that Eusebius “was primarily a scholar and not an original thinker” (ibid.). Such a view, that Eusebius was a compiler and reporter rather than conceptual innovator, is widespread. Even if granted, questions about the shape and design, its inclusions and exclusions, and, hence, the original intentionality of his reportage merit asking.

¹⁴ Again, my intent is not to argue against Eusebius's use of Hellenistic sources in his theology and political thought, which are everywhere apparent. See, e.g., Rapp, Claudia, “Imperial Ideology in the Making: Eusebius of Caesarea on Constantine as ‘Bishop’,” JTS 49 (1998) 685–95CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Schott, Jeremy M., “Founding Platonopolis: The Platonic in Eusebius, Porphyry, and Iamblichus,” JECS 11 (2003) 501–31Google Scholar. I am resisting the notion that this was a straightforward process, or that Hellenistic thought was his only or even governing influence.

¹⁵ Baynes, “Eusebius,” 168.

¹⁶ In brief, Peterson's main argument is that stricter monotheisms seen in pagan or Judaic traditions permit a direct, one-to-one correspondence between God as monarch and the political ruler. The political ruler functions as direct stand-in and immediate representative of God on earth. Orthodox Trinitarianism renders impossible any such correlations and thus obviates any potential Christian political theology. On Eusebius as Peterson's Kronzeuge see Badewien, Jan, “Euseb von Cäsarea,” in Monotheismus als politisches Problem? Erik Peterson und die Kritik der politischen Theologie (ed. Schindler, Alfred; Gütersloh, Germany: Gütersloher Verlagshaus Gerd Mohn, 1978) 43–48Google Scholar. Schmitt, in his response, challenges what he calls the “legend” or “myth” of the end of political theology, as perpetuated by Peterson, and questions his portrayal of Eusebius (Schmitt, Political Theology II, 21). While Schmitt's counterarguments are admittedly thin, I, through no initial intention on my part, lend support to his response by showing the indeed legendary or mythological use to which Peterson puts Eusebius. As we will see, Eusebius is an obvious example of neither pagan monotheism nor simple one-to-one correspondence, attenuating his role as main witness for Peterson.

¹⁷ Peterson, Theological Tractates, 226 n. 135. Peterson's initial formulations, however, precede the publication of Baynes's essay. Peterson, Erik, “Göttliche Monarchie,” ThQ 112 (1931) 537–64Google Scholar. Cited in Geréby, György, “Political Theology versus Theological Politics: Erik Peterson and Carl Schmitt,” New German Critique 105 (2008) 7–33, at 15CrossRefGoogle Scholar.

¹⁸ Peterson, Theological Tractates, 96 [italics in original].

¹⁹ Ibid., 102.

²⁰ This narrative is recounted, albeit with nuance, in Grillmeier, Aloys, Christ in Christian Tradition (trans. Bowden, John; 2nd rev. ed.; 2 vols.; Atlanta: John Knox, 1975) 1:167–80Google Scholar; with less nuance in Wallace-Hadrill, Eusebius of Caesarea, 118–20.

²¹ See Beeley, The Unity of Christ, 49–104. Beeley claims, e.g., that “Eusebius recognizes the paradox that Christian monotheism requires full Trinitarian subsistence. In so doing, he lays important groundwork for the later Trinitarian doctrine of writers like Basil of Caesarea and Gregory Nazianzen” (Beeley, Christopher A., “Eusebius’ Contra Marcellum. Anti-Modalist Doctrine and Orthodox Christology,” ZAC 12 [2008] 433–52, at 449CrossRefGoogle Scholar).

²² Lyman, J. Rebecca, Christology and Cosmology: Models of Divine Activity in Origen, Eusebius, and Athanasius (Oxford Theological Monographs; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1993) 109CrossRefGoogle Scholar. She notes further, “Rather than merely a philosophical intermediary, the cosmic agency of the Son in Eusebius’ theology necessarily entails the obedient activity of the biblical Jesus; he is the one agent in two lives” (116). Strutwolf also complicates this narrative by incorporating biblical and neoplatonic material that influences Eusebius (Strutwolf, Holger, Die Trinitätstheologie und Christologie des Euseb von Caesarea: eine dogmengeschichtliche Untersuchung seiner Platonismusrezeption und Wirkungsgeschichte [Forschungen zur Kirchen- und Dogmengeschichte; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1999] 129–93, 258–75CrossRefGoogle Scholar).

²³ Lunn-Rockliffe, Sophie, “Early Christian Political Philosophy,” in The Oxford Handbook of the History of Political Philosophy (ed. Klosko, George; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011) 142–55, at 145Google Scholar.

²⁴ Runciman, Byzantine Theocracy, 22

²⁵ On the following points see Goodenough, “Hellenistic Kingship.”; Peterson, Theological Tractates, 69–105; Chesnut, “Ruler and the Logos”; Ehrhardt, Arnold, Politische Metaphysik von Solon bis Augustin (3vols.; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1959)Google Scholar; O’Meara, Dominic J., Platonopolis: Platonic Political Philosophy in Late Antiquity (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003)Google Scholar; Cartledge, Paul, Ancient Greek Political Thought in Practice (Cambridge, U.K.: Cambridge University Press, 2009) 96–130CrossRefGoogle Scholar.

²⁶ Nock, Arthur Darby, “The Emperor's Divine Comes,” JRS 32 (1947) 102–16Google Scholar.

²⁷ The king's rationality and virtue provide for this proximity and serve as evidence of it. It is here that nomos and logos coincide. “In Plutarch, the late Platonist, then, this Animate Law conception has been fully identified with the Logos. The true king is the incarnate representation of the universal Nomos, and as such he is the incarnate representation of the Logos” (Goodenough, “Hellenistic Kingship,” 95).

²⁸ Ibid., 90.

²⁹ Ibid., 92.

³⁰ Peterson, Theological Tractates, 70–76.

³¹ Numenius De bono, frag. 12, in Eusebius Praep. ev. 11.18.8. Cited in ibid., 205 n. 15.

³² The Persian Great King serves as a master trope here, as it does for much Hellenistic political thought. For discussion of monotheistic ideas in pagan thought see Pagan Monotheism in Late Antiquity (ed. Polymnia Athanassiadi and Michael Frede; Oxford: Clarendon, 1999); One God: Pagan Monotheism in the Roman Empire (ed. Stephen Mitchell and Peter Van Nuffelen; Cambridge, U.K.: Cambridge University Press, 2010).

³³ Peterson, Theological Tractates, 71, 83. Schmitt (Political Theology II, 68) singles out Peterson's use of this phrase, attributed to Adolphe Thiers (1829): “The retrospective use of such a formula, from a post-Christian, liberal epoch back to the antiquity of the first century, is astonishing.” Schmitt indirectly criticizes what he sees as anachronistic projection, while implying that, ironically, Peterson's use demonstrates the enduring interdependence of theology and the political.

³⁴ “Time and time again, it is the same idea: ‘Le Roi règne, mais il ne gouverne pas.’ The gods are kings, satraps, viceroys, ‘friends of the King,’ or officials; actual imperium belongs to the highest God, who is compared to the Roman emperor or the Persian Great King” (ibid., 83).

³⁵ Ibid., 71–72.

³⁶ The transition to Trinitarian orthodoxy and implications for the distinction of reign and governance have been explored recently in Agamben, Giorgio, The Kingdom and the Glory: For a Theological Genealogy of Economy and Government (trans. Chiesa, Lorenzo and Mandarini, Matteo; Meridian: Crossing Aesthetics; Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2011)Google Scholar.

³⁷ Peterson makes explicit this type of hermeneutic when he chides Tertullian for invoking Roman monarchy as a conceptual device for grasping the Trinity: “Perhaps the weight of the Roman constitutional construction of the double principate, which posited a participatio imperii (a sharing of command), kept [Tertullian] from seeing that it was impossible simply to transfer pagan theology's secular monarchy concept to the Trinity which requires its own conceptual development” (Peterson, Theological Tractates, 84).

³⁸ On Eusebius's defense of the personhood and divine Sonship of the Logos see, e.g, Daley, Brian E., “‘One Thing and Another’: The Persons in God and the Person of Christ in Patristic Theology,” ProEccl 15 (2006) 17–46Google Scholar. Beeley argues that Eusebius has a robust Son theology and not simply one of the Logos or Word (“Eusebius’ Contra Marcellum”). I retain the centrality of the term Logos as the Laud. Const. remains the central text of my inquiry. Eusebius never refers to Christ in this text, the most persuasive explanation for which being not that his theology is deficient but that his words are contextualized, given the occasion and partially pagan audience. See the discussion in Drake, In Praise of Constantine, 46–60. Note too that Eusebius explicitly upholds the Trinity in this panegyric, ensconcing talk of it in numerology, again appealing to his audience (Laud. Const. 6.13). This also challenges Peterson's claims of Eusebius's non-Trinitarian monotheism.

³⁹ Baynes writes that the “basis of [Byzantine] political philosophy is to be found in the conception of the imperial government as a terrestrial copy of the rule of God in Heaven: there is one God and one divine law, therefore there must be on earth but one ruler and a single law” (“Eusebius,” 168). While this preserves a Hellenistic notion of impersonal and abstract law, it does not do sufficient justice to the person of the Logos, who, while called Law, cannot be reduced to a principle. The binary correspondences between God and king, on one hand, and Logos-Son and civic law, on the other, are tenuous at best. As we will see in Eusebius, such a model will not stand, for the Logos at times assumes authority over the emperor and cannot correspond structurally to subordinate civic law.

⁴⁰ Peterson, Theological Tractates, 94 [italics in original].

⁴¹ Stringer, “Political Theology of Eusebius,” 142. See also Cranz, “Kingdom and Polity,” 53.

⁴² Stringer, “Political Theology of Eusebius,” 138.

⁴³ Williams, George Huntston, “Christology and Church-State Relations in the Fourth Century,” CH 20 (1952) 3–33Google Scholar, at 18 [italics added].

⁴⁴ Drake, In Praise of Constantine, 57. Consider also: “Although Eusebius theoretically establishes a hierarchy of God-Logos-Emperor, in practice he treats Constantine and the Logos as relatively equal coordinates” (ibid., 75).

⁴⁵ “Christus wird in der Stufenfolge Gott—(Logos=)Christus—Kaiser doch hin und wieder übersprungen und der Kaiser das unmittelbare Abbild Gottes genannt.” Eger, Hans, “Kaiser und Kirche in der Geschichtstheologie Eusebs von Cäsarea,” ZNW 38 (1939) 97–115, at 113CrossRefGoogle Scholar.

⁴⁶ Ibid., 114.

⁴⁷ Eusebius explicitly criticizes those who confuse or elide the specific roles and identities of the Supreme God and the Logos. See, e.g., Sep. Chr. 11.17.

⁴⁸ Grillmeier, Christ in Christian Tradition, 1:253–54. He continues: “By virtue of this twofold mimesis, the emperor enters into a kind of triadic relationship with the Father and the Logos. He occupies the position of a ‘third person.’ It follows almost automatically that the emperor also participates in the functions of the Logos before the Father” (254).

⁴⁹ On Eusebius's understanding of image in terms of his Christology see DelCogliano, Mark, “Eusebian Theologies of the Son as the Image of God before 341,” JECS 14 (2006) 459–84Google Scholar. See also Robertson, Jon M., Christ as Mediator: A Study of the Theologies of Eusebius of Caesarea, Marcellus of Ancyra, and Athanasius of Alexandria (Oxford Theological Monographs; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007)CrossRefGoogle Scholar.

⁵⁰ Laud. Const. 1.2. See also Theophania (Theoph.) 1.37.

⁵¹ Wallace-Hadrill, Eusebius of Caesarea, 184.

⁵² Sep. Chr. 11.17.

⁵³ Laud. Const. 6.2.

⁵⁴ Ibid., 4.1.

⁵⁵ Ibid., 1.6.

⁵⁶ Ibid.

⁵⁷ Ibid., 6.9.

⁵⁸ Ibid., 1.6. Immediately after this Eusebius claims that the “Only-Begotton Logos of God endures with His Father as co-ruler from ages that have no beginning to ages that have no end” (2.1). Had he not clearly just stated that the Logos is second in rank, such language of co-ruling might convey an equality of authority. Rather, the point here is an emphasis on the eternity of rule, possibly to counteract Arian claims to (a time) when the Son was not. The Son as delegated governor has always administered the Father's kingdom.

⁵⁹ Ibid., 3.6.

⁶⁰ Ibid. The many titles ascribed here to the Logos include: “Supreme Commander and Chief High Priest, Prophet of the Father and Carrier of Great Counsel, Radiance of the Paternal Light and Sole-Begotten.”

⁶¹ “Tout le chapitre 1 est consacré à la royauté universelle de ce Dieu suprême, qu’Eusèbe désigne aussi plusieurs fois comme le Père. Mais si le Père règne, il ne gouverne pas: sa royauté est exercée par son fils, le Logos.” Maraval, Pierre, Eusèbe de Césarée. La théologie politique de l’empire chrétien: louanges de Constantin (Triakontaétérikos) (Sagesses chrétiennes; Paris: Cerf, 2001) 53Google Scholar [italics added]. See also Jourdan, Fabienne, “Le Logos et l’empereur, nouveaux Orphée ‘Postérité d’une image entrée dans la littérature avec Clément d’Alexandrie’,” VC 62 (2008) 319–33Google Scholar, at 322–23.

⁶² Laud. Const. 2.1–5.

⁶³ To complicate this, Constantine is also called “God's friend” in Laud. Const. 5.1 and Vit. Const. 1.3.4. He thus apparently enjoys friendship both with God and the Logos. Tracing the implications of such friendship requires consideration of the emperor's relation to both such subjects.

⁶⁴ Laud. Const. 1.6.

⁶⁵ Ibid., 3.5–6.

⁶⁶ Eusebius takes no pains, as Tertullian (Adversus Praxean [Prax.] 3) earlier did, to argue that having and ruling with a Son in no way attenuates the monarchy of the Father.

⁶⁷ The Logos is referred to as a father in Laud Const. 4.3.

⁶⁸ Laud. Const. 5.4.

⁶⁹ Ibid., 3.1. This could provide an answer to our question of with whom precisely Constantine co-rules in parallel to the co-rule of Father and Logos seen in 2.1.

⁷⁰ Ibid., 3.2. Here Drake (In Praise of Constantine, 159 n. 5) notes an ambiguity: “The question whether Eusebius’ subject at a given point is God or Constantine is frequently complicated by his free use of pronouns. Here, the sense of ‘ungrudging’ association indicates Constantine as subject, but grammatically, the subject is God.” This is a good illustration of the slippage between God the Father and Constantine seen in Eusebius. While one might attempt to attribute this to sloppiness or poor knowledge of Greek, it seems that, especially given the ceremonial gravitas of the situation, the learned Eusebius, a master rhetorician, has chosen his words carefully, such that even his ambiguity is calculated. Here there is an intentional mismatching of pronouns such that, while Constantine is the subject, the shadow of divine rule looms constantly, further entrenching the parallels. Thus, Constantine, like the Father, shares power and so augments rather than attenuates his grandeur. Elsewhere Eusebius speaks of Constantine's “general fatherly concern for all . . . bestowing everything on everyone with generosity of heart” (Vit. Const. 4.1.1).

⁷¹ Laud. Const. 9.10. Drake notes that “transmitted” (παραδίδου) “seems intentionally chosen to vest the prayers with divine authority and to convey, once again, Constantine's own close connections with divinity” (In Praise of Constantine, 169 n. 13). See also Sansterre, Jean-Marie, “Eusèbe de Césarée et la Naissance de la Théorie ‘Césaropapiste’,” Byzantion 42 (1972) 131–95, esp. 142–44Google Scholar.

⁷² Laud. Const. 6.2.

⁷³ Ibid., 10.7.

⁷⁴ Constantine is called sovereign (), a term Eusebius frequently ascribes to the highest God. Ibid., 1.6. Compare 8.4; 8.7. See Drake, In Praise of Constantine, 167 n. 6.

⁷⁵ Laud. Const. 4.3.

⁷⁶ Laud. Const. 5.1.

⁷⁷ Constantine's rational capacity is one given to the entire human race by the Logos, but Constantine is singled out as having developed such gifts to an exceptional extent. This evinces his especially elect status and unique proximity to God. Adding to this we learn later that to Constantine “alone of those who have yet been here since the start of time has the Universal All-Ruling God Himself given power to purify human life, to whom he has revealed his own Saving Sign . . .” (ibid., 6.21). Echoing Hellenistic theory, the emperor here has unique power to sanctify his subjects. It is given a Christian transformation by Eusebius by being a power bestowed by God, enabled by the Logos, and undertaken in extension of the Logos's original mission.

⁷⁸ A similar ambiguity emerges in 6.21. Eusebius extols Constantine, “to whom [the Universal All-Ruling God Himself] has revealed even His own Saving Sign,” apparently indicating the labarum. He proceeds: “Setting this victorious trophy, apotropaic of demons, against the idols of error, he has won victories over all the godless foes and barbarians, and now over the demons themselves, which are but another type of barbarians.” Drake indicates textual difficulties here and divergent manuscript traditions that make either Constantine or God the subject, claiming that the stronger tradition favors God (In Praise of Constantine, 165 n. 30). This harmonizes with the talk of subduing demons, a task of the Logos as outlined earlier. Yet, in this context, Eusebius has been describing Constantine, and both language of the saving trophy and barbarians supports this. Here, then, the blurring of roles between Constantine and the Logos has even impacted transcription. Eusebius plays between the two continually, such that, in this case, there is a sense that Constantine is subduing demons as well, as a Christ figure, since demons “are but another type of barbarians.”

⁷⁹ Laud. Const. 7.12.

⁸⁰ Here Drake notes Baynes's invocation of a Hellenistic mimesis theory of kingly imitation of God (In Praise of Constantine, 166 n.13). While acknowledging such dynamics are at play, he claims that “this passage indicates a much more intimate and personal , according not only with the theory of the sovereign as likeness of God . . . but also with Constantines's own concept of his relationship to his deity.” The ambiguities of Constantine's personal beliefs notwithstanding, any theory of Eusebius's supposed transmittal of a Hellenistic model of mimesis would also need to account for the Christian articulation of a personal and proximate God with whom the emperor might have a relationship.

⁸¹ Laud. Const. 7.13. As becomes clear in the following section (8.3), the “corpses” refer to the pagan idols that Constantine stripped of precious metal and jewels.

⁸² Laud. Const. 3.6.

⁸³ Vit. Const. 4.29.4. Consider also Constantine's delegation of the administration of his imperial treasury to his mother Helena (Vit. Const. 3.47.3).

⁸⁴ Laud. Const. 5.5.

⁸⁵ This need not be as problematic as it might initially appear, or at least no more so than the already controversial Christian scriptural injunctions to submit to governing authorities (Rom 13:1–8), as well as Christ's own apparent passivity before political power in the passion accounts. While explicit justification for Christian submission is that such powers are under God's authority, the implicit claim is that submission is what Christ would do. Christ being the model and standard for discipleship, his acts are taken as paradigmatic. Here, then, submitting to Constantine's authority is justified because it is Christ-like behavior, i.e., following the pattern of the Logos incarnate. Such dynamics are gestured to, e.g., in Laud. Const. 2.1, with the idea of the Logos preparing and leading the world toward the Father's kingdom. Such preparation involves submission and conformity to God's earthly kingdom ruled by Constantine, and thus the Logos as leader/model sets out the example of submission for all of humanity. We also get a sense in Laud. Const. 3.6 of the pervasive presence of the Logos in all peoples, providing the rational capacity for worship of God and submission to Constantine. That the Logos can forge in humanity the model of submission to this emperor implies the presence or capacity of such submission in the Logos. Furthermore, if, as we have seen, Constantine's governors and administration find as correlate the Logos at times when Constantine is correlated to the Father, Constantine's authority over his governors can undergo conceptual elision and transferral to the Logos as their representative. Such subtle dynamics of a Logos submissive to empire may explain why those protective of church authority and independence vis-à-vis the state have been wary of Eusebius's theology. An interesting thought experiment would be to consider the Eusebian directions of submission if Christ were contemporaneously present in the flesh during Constantine's reign. Would Christ submit to Constantine's political leadership, or would the latter abdicate his throne in deference to the former?

⁸⁶ Particularly worthy of further consideration is the specific relation of Constantine to the bishops in light of the God-Logos structure. This might shed light on the perceived relation between church and state in terms of lines of representation and legitimation from above. See, e.g., Sansterre, “Eusèbe et la Théorie ‘Césaropapiste’”; Dvornik, Francis, “Emperors, Popes, and General Councils,” DOP 6 (1951) 3–23Google Scholar; Straub, Johannes A., “Constantine as ΚΟΙΝΟΣ ΕΠΙΣΚΟΠΟΣ: Tradition and Innovation in the Representation of the First Christian Emperor's Majesty,” DOP 21 (1967) 37–55Google Scholar; Bowersock, G.W., “From Emperor to Bishop: The Self-Conscious Transformation of Political Power in the Fourth Century A.D.,” CP 81 (1986) 298–307Google Scholar; Woods, David, “Eusebius on Some Constantinian Officials,” ITQ 67 (2002) 195–223Google Scholar; Rapp, “Eusebius on Constantine as ‘Bishop’.”

⁸⁷ Arguably, the orthodox synthesis of both poles of supreme reign and delegated governance into one divine being eases the transposition onto a singular leader, thereby supporting the person of the emperor and his administration, which is a figurative extension of his body. This works against the widespread, specious claim that Arianism inherently favors imperial ideology, seen in, e.g., Peterson, Theological Tractates, 102; Runciman, Byzantine Theocracy, 24. Hardy, too, speaks of Eusebius's “imperialist Christianity which came so easily to Arians and Semi-Arians” (Edward R. Hardy, Christology of the Later Fathers [The Library of Christian Classics; Philadelphia: Westminster, 1954] 336). Yet, just as Constantine, the first Christian emperor, presided over the orthodox formulation at Nicaea (whatever hermeneutic of suspicion we wish to cast upon his sincerity), the majority of ensuing Christian emperors upheld what is taken as orthodox Trinitarianism, with notable, intermittent lapses into Arianism or paganism. As many, if not more, historical examples can be found of Christian rulers supporting orthodox faith while continuing to draw legitimation for their authority from this triune God, as can be gathered from emperors relying on a monistic God. This historical correlation alone should trouble the claim that Arianism is imperial theology and orthodoxy is not.

⁸⁸ I employ auctoritas here to signal the ways this discussion may tie into later debates about the auctoritas and potestas of the sovereign in medieval political theology. See, e.g., Muldoon, James, “Auctoritas, Potestas, and World Order,” in Plentitude of Power: The Doctrine and Exercise of Authority in the Middle Ages: Essays in Memory of Robert Louis Benson (ed. Figueira, Robert; Church, Faith, and Culture in the Medieval West; Aldershot, U.K.: Ashgate, 2006) 125–40Google Scholar, and Lester Field Jr. “Christendom before Europe? A Historiographical Analysis of ‘Political Theology’ in Late Antiquity,” in ibid., 141–70.

⁸⁹ For one take on how such divine legitimation of the administrative and bureaucratic elements of government has resulted in their proliferation, see Agamben, Kingdom and the Glory.

⁹⁰ One might explore how the dual imperial mimesis established by Eusebius influences the medieval debates about investiture, for the Norman Anonymous declares the king as both “God and Christ.” Such dualities may prefigure eventual construals of the king's two bodies. See Kantorowicz, Ernst, The King's Two Bodies: A Study in Medieval Political Theology (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1957) 48Google Scholar.

⁹¹ While we can certainly claim that Hellenistic thought was more complex than Peterson presented it, and subject to a multiplicity of positions beyond that which we can here review, it can be maintained that such thought lacked a theory of the Logos as authoritative personal agent. On the other hand, Middle Platonic ideas of a demiurge or other intermediary powers, while ascribed personal agency, were set at remove from full divine status, and were not correlated to the king. There is something unprecedented emerging in the Christian articulation of multiple, fully divine figures existing in a plural singularity, which are then correlated to the emperor. While scholarship on Hellenistic thought has progressed since Peterson, my point in reviewing the material as he sets it out is to show the problems within his own presentation, that his conclusions about Eusebius and political theology—which continue to bear out in contemporary scholarship, despite progress in other areas—do not necessarily follow from his premises.

⁹² The ongoing contemporary debate about whether the Trinity can be used to fund certain ecclesio-political programs is genealogically related to Peterson's claims. See, e.g., Fletcher, Disciplining the Divine; Tanner, Kathryn, “Trinity,” in The Blackwell Companion to Political Theology (ed. Scott, Peter and Cavanaugh, William T.; Malden, Mass.: Blackwell, 2004) 319–32Google Scholar. A central figure in this debate, Jürgen Moltmann, expresses great admiration for Peterson and acknowledges his debt to him, calling Monotheismus a “magnificent treatise.” See Moltmann, Jürgen, “Political Theology,” ThTo 28 (1971) 6–23Google Scholar. Interestingly, much of Moltmann's oeuvre is devoted precisely to showing how the Trinity informs Christian politics, as if attempting to demonstrate how wrong Peterson was. In fairness, Moltmann does not seek a Christian political theology that supports governmental regimes, but one that questions hierarchy and totalization. Yet this highlights the ambiguity that Peterson's essay bequeaths, for it remains unclear how one might use ideas of God to assess contemporary politics, given the absolute disjunction inserted by Peterson.

⁹³ One of the few studies devoted to his rhetoric is Gerald S. Vigna, “The Influence of Epideictic Rhetoric on Eusebius of Caesarea's Political Theology” (Ph.D. diss., Northwestern Univeristy, 1980). See also Cameron, Averil, Christianity and the Rhetoric of Empire: The Development of Christian Discourse (Sather Classical Lectures 55; Berkeley: University of California Press, 1991)Google Scholar.

⁹⁴ See, e.g., Cameron and Hall, “Introduction,” in Life of Constantine, 13. See also Johnson, Ethnicity and Argument in Eusebius, 195.

⁹⁵ Drake, In Praise of Constantine, 11 [italics added].