As a fellow of the Westar Institute I recently attended a webcon on Eusebius, as part of their new project Seminar on the history of Christianity, and it was heartening to see their reliance on real historians and not just theologians and biblical scholars (all the lead presenters had serious credentials in ancient history and classics, and only happened to do work on Christianity, rather than the other way around). It was also refreshing to see such a sane take on Eusebius: pretty much we all agree he was a propagandist whose History of the Church can only be understood as deliberately crafted to push an agenda and not as a “reliable history” in our preferred sense.

One example that came up repeatedly was Eusebius’s use of the so-called Therapeutae in his invention of a history for Christianity in Egypt, the province neighboring his own, which was Palestine—Eusebius did most of his work out of the Library he inherited from Origen through Pamphilus in Caesarea. The experts in the seminar highly recommended Eusebius and Empire: Constructing Church and Rome in the Ecclesiastical History by James Corke-Webster (but it’s pricey; if you want to read it, try inter-library loaning it through your local public). I would also recommend Andrew Carriker’s The Library of Eusebius of Caesarea (ditto; and yes, I realize his last name is only one letter away from mine—ironically, he was one of my predecessors in the doctoral program in ancient history at Columbia University; we both worked under the supervision of William Harris).

The Ideal of History in Antiquity

In the ancient world there were standards by which to build, and trust, a reliable history. Those standards were never exactly satisfied, and often flouted; but they existed, and various authors aligned with them to some degree or other. The general notions were that history should be limited to what you were an eyewitness to, could directly interview eyewitnesses to, or get from books meeting either condition. Speeches, it was accepted, could be invented, as long as they at least captured the “gist” of what was said, by the same standards just stated. Documents (inscriptions, state records, and the like) were accepted evidence and used and cited, even quoted, in histories all the way back as far as Polybius and beyond. Even Aristotle collected and quoted state constitutions as part of his project to construct an empirical history of political institutions. It was also understood that if you didn’t cite a source, but generically said things like “they say,” that what comes next is acceptable to doubt. Though the historian might not call attention to that fact (as it might deter from their personal agendas), they usually covertly respected the convention—as opposed to, as sometimes did happen, making up sources.

What we today prefer is to find a fact corroborated independently by two different authors whom we can ascertain were not using each other as a source but, more likely than not, a source meeting the standards just outlined above: an eyewitness, a witness who confirms they got their information from an eyewitness, or a book that demonstrably contains either; and real documents, whenever pertinent and available. That way we can reduce the probability that some claim was made up by one of them, or just a baseless rumor one of them happened upon. (Notice how readily “facts” are being fabricated and believed on the internet lately, and you can rightly be doubtful ancient rumormills were any more reliable.) Needless to say, there is no account of Jesus, anywhere, that meets any of these conditions. Contrast that with what we have for other personages, from Spartacus to Hannibal, and many others therein linked. Take note of this point for later. It will matter to our assessment of what Eusebius attempts for the Alexandrian church.

To offer two examples of ancient historians we can more or less assess the merits of:

• Arrian in his history of Alexander the Great tells us he used only three books, each written by an eyewitness, all of whom he names and explains why they are worth using as sources; he then describes his method as simply: he will run with what they all agree on, but if at any point they disagree, he will point that out. And he sticks to this method inconsistently but observably enough to classify his history of Alexander as far more reliable to us than any account of Jesus.
• Josephus names and describes the merits of numerous sources for his histories. He of course cites himself as an eyewitness or a witness who conversed with an eyewitness many times. But he also mentions, at least once somewhere, some of the written sources he used. For example, he points out he used the historical accounts of Nicolaus of Damascus, the court historian and personal friend of Herod the Great.

Which is not to say we simply trust these guys. Both historians are as dubious as even the best historians of antiquity were, and many things they say we are critical of. For instance, for Josephus’s accounts of the (supposed) mass suicides at Masada and Gamla in each case he names two eyewitnesses (in both cases women) and describes their credentials, usually a marker of a reliable method. But modern historians now suspect he made these sources up; and their accounts (see Making History: Josephus And Historical Method). But this still illustrates Josephus knew what the standards were and was trying to trick his readers into thinking he had met them. The masses were often gullible. But the educated elites reading books like this typically were not. But if one were inclined to need to believe his stories, Josephus provided adequate cover for doing so.

Indeed, like Eusebius, Josephus was very much composing propaganda (see, e.g., Out-Heroding Herod: Josephus, Rhetoric, and the Herod Narratives and Historiography and Self-Definition: Josephos, Luke-Acts, and Apologetic Historiography); he just was better at it, and more typically honest about it. A lot of his history checks out; it has corroboration and reliable sourcing. Nicolaus of Damascus, for example, really did exist and really did compose an eyewitness account of Herod, and Josephus is unlikely to have gotten away with lying much about its contents (he was, after all, in a perpetual public battle with rival historian Justus of Tiberias precisely over such matters). And yet if even the “honest” Josephus could make shit up, we can hardly expect Eusebius wouldn’t—whose own reputation today among experts who study him is still as, shall we kindly say, less than honest.

The Therapeutae of Egypt

We know of the Jewish sect called “the therapeutae” (more or less meaning “the therapists”) from Philo of Alexandria, our only source on them…and evidently the only source on them—Eusebius cites no other. Philo was one of the most renowned Rabbinical scholars at the time, an inhabitant of Alexandria, Egypt, who wrote copiously in the 20s-to-40s A.D. We have most (but not all) of his extensive collection of works. Among them is a treatise On the Contemplative Life, which begins:

Having mentioned the Essenes [a prominent sect of the Jews also documented in Josephus—ed.] who in all respects selected for their admiration and for their especial adoption the practical course of life…I will now proceed, in the regular order of my subject, to speak of those who have embraced the speculative life.

Philo thus indicates he is comparing two sects of the Jews, one practical and one contemplative. Hence the Therapeutae, Philo tells us, “serve the living God,” the “superior” and most “ancient” of gods, and are the most pious of peoples on the earth. Philo then goes on to lambaste pagans as by comparison worshiping made-up, inferior deities and demigods or mere idols, animals, or celestial objects. The Therapeutae by contrast worship only the one, living God, and do so on their own, “not because they are influenced to do so by custom, nor by the advice or recommendation of any particular persons,” meaning they are not evangelized or cajoled or acting out of habit; they voluntarily seek out the community to contemplate God.

The Therapeutae, we are told, live as monks, surrendering personal possessions to their families and leaving to live communally with their peers, separated from worldly interests. They have communities all over the world, but “the greatest number” are in Egypt, in every district there, and “especially around Alexandria,” where Philo lived and wrote—so he would have had direct information to base his account on. The most devout retreat to “study the laws and oracles of God enunciated by the Holy Prophets” and to sing the Psalms, basing their lives on “the most sacred admonitions and precepts of the prophet Moses,” and “the Sacred Scriptures” as a whole, albeit reading them allegorically, “as they look upon their literal expressions as symbols of some secret meaning” instead (a practice Philo approved of). The sect also has its own body of literature, “the writings of ancient men,” who are the “founders of one sect or another.” They observe the Sabbath. They eschew all decoration, of house or self. They ban slavery; accordingly no slaves are found among them. They drink no wine at services. And they separate men and women (even by a wall during sermons, and by a table at meals).

Philo might have assumed the Qumran sect(s) were a community of Therapeutae, as his description fairly well matches what we know from their cache of documents, and what Pliny the Elder likewise wrote of them (see Goranson and Loeb). Pliny identifies them as a sect of the Essenes, but we know from other sources there were at least nine different competing sects of Essenes (see my discussion and sources in The Empty Tomb, pp. 107-10), and these were of such a contemplative kind as to more closely match whom Philo calls the Therapeutae. Philo appears to have reserved “Essene” more for people more active and in-the-world; as he says, “who in all respects selected for their admiration and for their especial adoption the practical course of life.”

Eusebius Lies about the Therapeutae

Eusebius inherited the library of Origen, through Pamphilus who inherited it from Origen, and Origen established that school and library in Caesarea after having accumulated his fame, education, and probably already a sizable collection of books in Alexandria, Egypt. Eusebius very much wants to connect himself with what he believes to be the venerable traditions of Christianity in Alexandria, and he already has part of the desired pedigree: Eusebius was tutored by Pamphilus, Pamphilus was tutored by Origen, and Origen was tutored in Alexandria by the renowned Clement of Alexandria (or so Eusebius says; scholars doubt this), who was in turn tutored there by the Christian Pantaenus (all according to Eusebius), who possibly founded (?) or took charge (?) of the first Christian catechetical school there in the late second century. Eusebius’s evidence dries up at this point; he can trace no further pedigree. And he was already stretching the evidence.

Eusebius claims that Mark, the author of the Gospel, founded and governed the Alexandrian church; and then Eusebius appears to have used some list of “bishops” who succeeded Mark up to his own time. But Eusebius cites no sources for any of these claims, and evidently knows exactly nothing about any of these men or the Alexandrian church in the first hundred plus years—all he has to relate is a bare list of names and dates of accession (that someone may well have simply fabricated). Notably he can describe no writings, not even letters or sermons or edicts, nor even anecdotes or stories, of any of these men. Nor is he willing to tell us where his mere “list” comes from or why we should trust it.

When we see how extensively Eusebius cites documents, works, and sources for so much else across his history, the complete absence of any of that here is a clue: Eusebius knew nothing about the first hundred and fifty or so years of the Alexandrian church. He had no sources. No books. No letters. No documents. No stories. Nothing. And yet Origen surely would have brought some of that into the library at Caesarea if he had had any such materials. So…evidently, he didn’t either. The history of Christianity in Egypt before Pantaenus was simply forgotten; no one preserved it, no one knew anything about it. Which entails it was quite small and tenuous; and that the truth of it became long forgotten.

Which is one obvious reason we can doubt Eusebius’s claim that “Mark” founded the church there. Not least because we have no evidence any such person existed—he appears to be entirely legendary, a fabrication of the late second century to fill an annoying hole in tradition and to tender renewed authority to what actually began as an anonymous Gospel. But also because Eusebius can cite no source for this. Guess how he identifies the information? “They say that this Mark was the first that was sent to Egypt” and “proclaimed the Gospel which he had written, and first established churches in Alexandria” (Eusebius, History of the Church 2.16). Ah. The proverbial “They.” Right. Remember? That’s code for “I have no citeable source; you might want to be skeptical.” This historian who loved citing and quoting books and documents and sources everywhere he could…and the best he could do here is “they” say. Who? How do they know? Never mind.

It’s worse than that. Because of course it is. Immediately after claiming “they” say Mark started the Alexandrian church (and, Eusebius later asserts, without even citing a “they,” governed it all the way into the 60s A.D.), Eusebius goes on to pull this stunt:

And the multitude of believers, both men and women, that were collected there at the very outset, and lived lives of the most philosophical and excessive asceticism, was so great, that Philo thought it worth while to describe their pursuits, their meetings, their entertainments, and their whole manner of life.

That’s right. Not only does Eusebius in fact have no sources saying Mark was ever even there, much less running the church there for decades, he fills his chapter with a bogus source: he tries to pass off Philo’s description of a pious Jewish community as a Christian community—and not only that, but as Mark’s Christian community. Which means Eusebius literally did not know Mark was ever there or had anything to do with it. He had no writings from Mark or that community about it; nor had he any outsiders writing about it. So he had to fake up some evidence even of there being a church there at the time, by misrepresenting Philo’s treatise.

And not only that, but Eusebius then lies about Philo. For he immediately claims “it is also said” (so not even a “they” this time, just a neuter “it”) that “Philo in the reign of Claudius became acquainted at Rome with Peter, who was then preaching there.” This of course is just made up. Not only because Eusebius again can cite no source for it (he even tries to shyly defend the statement by saying “it’s not improbable,” something someone who actually had a source wouldn’t say), but also because it’s obviously a Christian invention based solely on a coincidence they want to exploit: Philo never once mentions Christians (at all, much less as individuals) but does describe his embassy to Rome during the reign of Caligula, whose reign ended with the accession of Claudius. Since Christian mythology put Peter there maybe around that same time, they just “assumed” that they had met (because “surely they must have!”), and evidently fabricated legendary tales of it (just as Christians would eventually fabricate an entire correspondence between Paul and Seneca, another prominent denizen of Rome at that time). Christians often co-opted real history this way to “insert” themselves into it where no Christians really existed (as just a few examples: The Rain Miracle of Marcus Aurelius, the tales of Jude & Domitilla, and again the Seneca correspondence—note that Augustine, in City of God 6.10, admits Seneca’s elaborate treatise against superstition lambasted both pagans and Jews yet never once mentioned Christians).

Why does Eusebius think “it is not improbable” that Philo met Peter?, Because, he says, “the work of which we have spoken,” meaning Philo’s treatise on the Jewish Therepeutae, “and which was composed by him some years later, clearly contains those rules of the Church which are even to this day observed among us.” It contains no such thing. Yet Eusebius lies with a straight face to his audience, claiming that in his essay Philo “describes as accurately as possible the life of our ascetics” such that “it is clear that he not only knew, but that he also approved, while he venerated and extolled, the apostolic men of his time,” who were, after all, “as it seems,” Jews (Eusebius, History of the Church 2.17). Hence Philo’s describing a Jewish sect is “explained” as really describing “Christians.”

And yet despite Eusebius claiming Philo “accurately” described this supposedly “Christian” sect, not a single distinctively Christian teaching is in Philo’s account. Indeed, it’s likely Philo wrote that account before Christianity even existed; and he describes it as then already ancient, with many sects and long-dead leaders whose writings were cherished. He also makes statements incongruous with early Christianity. Not only is no persecution mentioned (the Therapeutae were clearly widely revered and respected, not hunted and attacked), no crucified and resurrected messiah (nor even imminent expectations of an apocalypse and resurrection), no Christ whatever, nor even baptism; but also, Philo says they did not evangelize (so much for the entire concept of original Christianity), they banned slaves (Paul attests slaves were fully integrated into Christian churches, not banned from them), they drink no wine at services (so much for the Eucharist); they gave their property to their friends and family (whereas Christians were expected to tender it to their congregation); and they separated men and women (whereas Paul makes clear Christian congregations were integrated).

So Eusebius has taken a treatise that has nothing to do with Christians and used it to fake a history of early Alexandrian Christianity. Moreover, he connects it to Christian history through a series of unsourced fabrications (that “it is said” Philo met Peter; that “they say” Mark founded the community Philo writes about; and so on). So out of exactly zero sources, Eusebius has “invented” a quoted “source” and multiple unsourced “facts.” All to get his own pedigree to extend all the way back to the legendary (and probably apocryphal) “Mark the Evangelist,” author of the famed Gospel (and through him, according to another improbable legend Eusebius repeats, Peter, and thence to Jesus himself). Of course, all Eusebius can do after that is cite an unsourced list of bishops to even connect “Mark” up to himself, which he accomplishes by awkwardly connecting two of those bishops to Origen (by one of whom Origen was ordained, while the other was his student). This is how Eusebius invents a history where there was none. The Alexandrian church preserved no sources, no documents, nothing whatever Eusebius could use. It abandoned its own history entire. Leaving Eusebius to invent one.

Amusingly Eusebius says “we need not discuss” why Philo never calls them Christians, while having just offered the brief apologetic that “the name of Christians was not yet everywhere known.” Eusebius tries to link Philo’s account of what they did with their property to the claim “in the Acts of the Apostles, a work universally acknowledged as authentic” (yes, Eusebius actually said that—could he sound more like a liar?) “it is recorded that all the companions of the apostles sold their possessions and their property and distributed to all according to the necessity of each one, so that no one among them was in want.” Note, this is the exact opposite of what Philo says the Therapeutae did. Eusebius is such a shameless liar, he expects his readers not to notice these accounts contradict each other.

Eusebius then mentions how their principal commune was located above Lake Mareotis (which he fudges to sound Christian by calling it Lake Maria…in fact the word is Egyptian and has no connection with that mythical Jewish heroine). Yet notably, he has no sources to cite of there ever being any Christian community there, in his time or ever before. (Gosh. Where did it disappear to? How did no one notice its decline or destruction?) Eusebius then claims “it is highly probable” (is it?) “that the works of the ancients, which [Philo] says they had, were the Gospels and the writings of the Apostles” and things “contained in the Epistle to the Hebrews” and “Paul’s Epistles.” There is no evidence of that, obviously. Nor could any of these things have then been “ancient” writings. The one thing Philo does not attest to (that any of those writings were venerated there), Eusebius has converted with a mere “probably” into his attesting to—a “probably” based on no evidence (just as there was “probably” widespread election fraud this November of 2020).

Eusebius is aware someone might catch him out here. So he adds a preemptive apologetic:

If anyone thinks that what has been said is not peculiar to the Gospel polity, but that it can be applied to others besides those mentioned, let him be convinced by the subsequent words of the same author, in which, if he is unprejudiced, he will find undisputed testimony on this subject. Philo’s words are as follows:

So, Eusebius uses the rhetorical device of accusing his reader of being “prejudiced” lest he believe him, and of hyperbolically asserting his conclusion is indisputable. By what statement of Philo are we to find the indisputable fact that he is discussing a Christian community? Nothing. Just a really long quote from the treatise in which nothing peculiarly Christian is ever mentioned. Eusebius wants us to believe that by discussing their Jewish communion ceremonies “these statements of Philo we regard as referring clearly and indisputably to those of our communion.” They do not “clearly” or “indisputably” refer to any such thing. To the contrary, they refute any such association: the ceremony described lacks wine, involves no ritual breaking of bread, no recitations of remembrance—nothing Christian whatever. Eusebius is thus trying to shame his readers into overlooking this. Which establishes Eusebius himself was shameless. Eusebius subtly reminds his readers that Christian authorities (“we”) regard it to be as he says, then implies it would be bigoted and crazy to gainsay it. Yet a plain look at his own evidence refutes his every contention. This is not a history he is composing. This is FOX News, 4th century style.

Eusebius isn’t done. “But if after these things,” he goes on to say, “any one still obstinately persists in denying the reference, let him renounce his incredulity and be convinced by yet more striking examples, which are to be found nowhere else than in the evangelical religion of the Christians.” What examples? That the Therapeutae often counted among their number virgin women, and read scriptures allegorically. Wow. Proved! Can’t possibly have been anything but Christians. Or rather, obviously could have been. Eusebius literally has no evidence. So he browbeats his reader, calling them “obstinate” and demanding they “renounce” such foolish incredulity and just agree with him already. Eusebius wants us to believe that because such a “mode of life has been preserved to the present time by us alone” (he offers no evidence of that being true), that therefore the Therapeutae can’t have been a past sect of Jews as Philo describes them to be. That isn’t even a logical argument. That it is also founded on no evidence, even contradicted by the evidence (as the Therapeutae’s practices, as I noted, are multiply contrary even to early, much less later Christianity), only makes it worse.

“In addition to this,” Eusebius tries to conclude, “Philo describes the order of dignities which exists among those who carry on the services of the church, mentioning the deaconate, and the office of bishop,” but those terms are generic terms used in all ancient societies (deacon just means “minister, servant”; bishop just means “overseer, supervisor”). They were not peculiar to Christianity at all. And yet, Eusebius then insists, “that Philo, when he wrote these things, had in view the first heralds of the Gospel and the customs handed down from the beginning by the apostles, is clear to every one.” Which for all we can tell is another claim Eusebius is making up—that Philo was talking about Christians appears not to have been clear to anyone until Eusebius tried inventing the notion right here and selling it as what “everyone” agrees is the case.

Thus we have an extended, illogical, absurdist apologetic for believing this treatise of Philo’s discusses Alexandrian Christianity—by the end of which we have been presented absolutely no sources whatever on Alexandrian Christianity. Which evinces the fact that there were no sources for him to consult. Since that complete lack of information was evidently quite embarrassing, Eusebius tried to fabricate a history that doesn’t exist.

Conclusion

When we look where Eusebius quotes sources, and where he just makes claims backed by no sources, we get a more accurate picture of what Eusebius didn’t know—and of what he wanted, and needed, to invent. He isn’t doing history. He is fabricating history. When he has no sources, no evidence, he cites anonymous hearsay, which we can’t even tell really existed; claims Eusebius himself was making up he could readily just attribute to an unidentified “they” or a pretentious “we.” Or else he takes a treatise that has no connection whatever to Christianity, and attempts by lengthy browbeating to argue must really have one, and how dare you doubt him.

By contrast, if there actually were a Christian tradition in Alexandria that went that far back and still survived for Eusebius to know of it, he should have had access to it. He should have many texts from that tradition to quote—documents, letters, treatises, memoirs. Yet it’s all gone. Eusebius had nothing. It was all lost. The history of his own pedigree, the first century-and-a-half of Alexandrian Christianity, was invisible to him; lost in the fog of whatever on earth happened to the vast quantity of records and texts there must have been, had a church ever been there so long as he claims. And his own attempt to hide this fact, is precisely how we know it. Thus we can learn true things even from liars.

It doesn’t follow, of course, that there wasn’t Christianity in Alexandria all those years. Only that it was so scant, so tenuous, so fragile, that it was never noticed in any surviving text or record and couldn’t even muster the resources or continuity to preserve anything of its records and correspondence, not even a memory. For instance, Acts mentions the Apostle Apollos came from Alexandria, but doesn’t actually say he preached there—or was converted there or ever even went there after his conversion. Indeed, the omission of any references to missions in Alexandria in Acts is peculiar. Likewise, only unverifiable legends in the late second century imagined Christian activity there. For instance, the “heretic” Basilides supposedly was converted there and spun up his own sect there sometime in the early second century, but we have no actual sources confirming this; there’s no particular reason to assume this wasn’t just one more telephone game of transmission error, for instance confusing his hailing from Alexandria as his flourishing there.

It’s inherently probable Christians were evangelizing there already by the time of Paul. And certainly Eusebius didn’t invent Alexandrian Christianity; Origen clearly thrived in a Christian community there that already predated him. But prior to the late second century, we have no references to there even being one there, much less telling us anything about it. And it’s clear by the late second century, when for the first time on record Christians start talking about Alexandrian Christianity even having a history, they had no sources to cite on the matter either. This dovetails with my growing impression that the Christianity we have in sources is a later retooling of a long-past religion that had practically died out in the West, thus preserving next to nothing of its past (see, for example, How Did Christianity Switch to a Historical Jesus? and Did Polycarp Meet John the Apostle? and Three Things to Know about New Testament Manuscripts).