By Ian Maphet
As he reined his war steed to a stop and regally dismounted, one could be forgiven for thinking here was a man fresh to the battlefield and ready to engage with his enemy, if only one could ignore the blood, mud, and gore caked across his magnificent armor. Constantine’s eyes shone with ecstasy and focus as he took in his generals’ reports, his relative youth still making its presence known in his eagerness to take in all the details of his victory. His confident assurances from the start of the battle until now had buttressed his generals’ own certainty of the outcome of this war and his delight in the outcome was reflected in each one’s eyes as they examined the maps and took in the results. Even now, as confident as they had been before the battle, they marveled at winning against all odds.
The sight of the dead, dying, and wounded pierced Constantine’s heart, as it always did, but he reminded himself there would be time for mourning later. Word had just reached him that his arch-rival, Maxentius, emperor of Italy and North Africa, had drowned in the Tiber River in his desperate attempt to escape Constantine’s army. The temptation to exult in Maxentius’ death was near at hand to Constantine, but he resisted and focused on the most important aspect of today’s outcome. The sight of the cross in the sky and the words “in this sign thou shalt conquer” (in latin, “in hoc signo vinces”) were still fresh in his mind from the day before, and he knew his dream of speaking with the Christ Himself was no mere dream. Jesus had told him that the sign of the cross would lead him into victory, so he had not delayed that morning in making sure that every soldier had the Chi-Rho (a typical sign for Christianity) on his shield before the coming battle. His generals had warned him of the risks of fighting a larger battle force, but Constantine knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that God was with him in that battle and the results proved his faith right.
Since he was a child, his mother had taught him the principles of the Christian faith, something his father tolerated as emperor of the western lands of the Roman Empire. Constantine would never forget the fire in his mother’s eyes when speaking of this Jesus who changed the world, and he knew from an early age that despite the cultural taboo he believed that this man was truly the Son of God and the pantheon of gods in the Roman temples were mere fantasies. His faith had guided him when lost, encouraged him when beset by troubles and betrayals, and it now showed him what happened when God guided your hand against a rival superior in numbers and acclaim.
Many had displayed little faith in one as young as him ascending to the throne of emperor when his father had died. Halfway into his third decade of life, politics in the empire were wielded against him without mercy. Those who resisted his ascension the most used the excuse of objecting to one just out of his teen years taking on the mantle of emperor. Looking back now, Constantine didn’t think he could blame them, but he still remembered the anger at those who fought against his father’s deathbed wishes. Six years later he thanked the Creator God that those who had fought so ferociously against him, in the halls of legislation as well as the battlefield, had given him the opportunity to learn and grow as a leader and commander. Without his father’s guidance in Britain, those short, but brutal campaigns with political enemies, and the experience of improving and administering the city of York, he wondered if he would have the political acumen to stand where he did now.
After yesterday’s vision and dream, he knew that he had been guided the whole time by a Hand far stronger than his own. He marveled at so many of his mother’s encouragements and reminders of the Creator God’s faithfulness and guidance being proven true and wondered how she would react when he told her so. He imagined it would be her usual humble acceptance of the truth and a timely piece of scripture. Constantine smiled, thankful that his mother had never faltered in her training of The Way.
While lost in these thoughts, one of his generals cleared his throat and began, “My lord, should we march on Rome?”
“Do not call me lord,” Constantine replied. “For there is only one Lord, but yes, let us march to Rome and see how we fare in that city.”
The usual process of calling the troops back to formation and arranging the prisoners and taking care of the wounded was immediately begun, but they finally began to make their way the few miles to Rome.
“Behold,” Flavius, one of his most loyal generals remarked. “The glory of Rome!”
Constantine knew what he meant; Rome would be theirs and the wonder of the best soldiers in the world marching in perfect formation would soon belong to Rome. He never tired of the sight of the legions marching forward, their glory reflecting in some small way the glory of the God who had just given them an amazing victory.
Unsure of what to expect with Rome, Constantine made sure his men were ready for anything. He imagined either a resigned acceptance of their faith or a drawn-out fight, but as they approached the city, he realized his preparations were not necessary. Constantine knew Maxentius was less than loved, but he was not expecting the welcome he received when he arrived at that glorious city of myth and legend, Rome. The gates stood open, flags and banners waved, and people crowded the walls and roadways, cheering the hero conqueror Constantine. Tears filled his eyes as he regally acknowledged the cheering crowds. He did not know what was to come, but he knew his God was with him.
He watched the politicians around him as he was crowned emperor of the West. he trusted in His God, but he also knew his God expected him to use the wisdom instilled in him by so many. He made mental notes of those who cheerfully and seemingly genuinely cheered his ascension and those who ground their teeth while trying to look happy about the ceremony. He knew now, no thanks to those who had tried to overthrow or assassinate him before, what to watch out for and how to dodge the traps those who made a show of things would no doubt lay for him.
More importantly, he wanted to move forward with laws he had already instituted in his own regions and was eager to establish in his expanded realm. For nearly 300 years Christians had endured persecutions of all kinds, many inflicted by Roman Law, and Constantine desired to end such persecution. So before almost any other laws were put into place or removed, Constantine made it the law of the West Roman Empire that all religions were to be free to practice their faith, but he also openly promoted Christianity.
This was met with a response that was as expected as it was interesting. A few of the men he originally thought he could rely on objected, on the grounds of often held, but easily disproven myths of atheism and cannibalism (For since the Christians did not worship anyone from the Pantheon, surely they worshiped none at all; and why did they claim to consume the blood and body of the one they also claimed to worship?), but the ones he had already noted as being potential problems displayed their colors.
“How dare you!” One politician screamed at him in the assembly. “This is a cult that has no business being supported by the glory of Rome and her gods! This is a cult that must die!”
“Tell me then,” Constantine calmly replied from his throne. “Why has this so-called cult survived almost three centuries of Roman and Jewish efforts to wipe it out?”
The man stuttered for a moment, then regained his composure to point a finger at the sitting emperor. “No one has had the guts to do what was necessary and make sure the gods ruled supreme!”
“So then Nero,” Constantine quietly began as he stood and took a step toward the speaker. “Celebrated for using Christians as torches for his lavish parties, did not have the guts to do what was necessary?”
The man began to turn white as Constantine continued, “Tell me why the One this so-called cult worships appeared to me in a dream if it were merely a cult? Tell why this Creator God we had no name for gave me a victory over a superior military might?
“You cannot and thus must experience the fruit of your lack of faith and insight,” Constantine gestured to one of his generals. “Make sure this man’s titles are removed. Do not physically injure him or his family, but the Empire has no need of such cowards and he is not allowed within these grounds again.”
The entire assembly sat in silence as the cries of one of their own faded into the distance, then one by one they turned toward their emperor. Expressing gratitude inside to Jesus, Constantine knew the path had been set; he would be able to pull Christianity out of the brutal cycle of persecution and allow it to really flourish everywhere.
A year later his fellow emperor, Licinius messaged Constantine with questions about his policies toward the followers of The Way. He imagined he had misunderstood what he had heard about Constantine’s laws for the West Empire and wanted clarification. Constantine was eager to let Licinius know exactly what his laws and policies regarding Christianity and other religions in the Empire were. Though later it would come to be known as the Edict of Milan, it was merely a letter in which one emperor of an empire explained his established policy to the other emperor and greatly encouraged him to adopt the same policies. Of course, the implication was that the might of his now renowned armies was fully in support of his colleague’s following his example.
Licinius took the hint and responded with eager acceptance of Constantine’s policies. At least for a year he adopted those policies. Word soon reached the West Empire that Licinius had not only tossed out the toleration of religions and was actively persecuting Christians, but was also conspiring against Constantine himself.
Not long after receiving this news Constantine was looking at the might of his armies drawn up in perfect formation against Licinius’ armies. As they went out to meet each other before battle began, Constantine looked up at the sky and for a moment thought he saw a cross outline against the sun. He smiled as he drew up across from Licinius, something that clearly unnerved the other man, and he let Licinius (or rather his representative) lay out terms of surrender. Constantine let the silence linger after the man finished, looking unblinkingly at Licinius. He wondered in his heart if there could be another outcome aside from the one that was clearly unfolding on this field of battle as he rejected the terms of surrender and laid out his own. Licinius, oddly unnerved for one who had held the title of emperor for as long as he had, spat at Constantine in reply, turned his horse and galloped back to his army with his retinue trying to keep up. Constantine sat for a minute, taking in the other army, then let go of the hope that there could be any other outcome.
Soon the screams of men and horses, the agonizing groans of the wounded, and the clash of steel upon steel filled the air. For a moment Constantine wondered if this was one battle the Lord would let him lose, but his attention was soon drawn to his right flank. They were beginning to make progress forward. Slow, painful progress, but progress nonetheless! He watched as the enemy’s line shifted back, stretched thin already, then broke, chaos becoming the standard for the men as one army began to turn and run as the other chased them. Constantine watched as the chaos made its way down the entire line, as each successive legion realized what was happening and sounded the retreat or just turned and scrambled to get away from the blood lust that was overtaking Constantine’s men.
“There, my emperor,” one of his men shouted. “Their standard has fallen; you have won the day!”
Immediately, as his men celebrated their victory, Constantine dismounted and knelt down in the mud. Quickly the men around him realized what was happening and followed suit. Constantine made the sign of the cross on his forehead, his men imitating him in this action, and prayed, “Thank you, oh Lord, for this victory! May you be pleased to grant your servant wisdom in the administration of your great empire to the glory of your name and the good of your Church. Amen.”
He rose up, followed by his men, each one watching him closely for his next orders. He took in the battlefield, once again reminding himself that mourning the dead and wounded will have its own time, and noticed Licinius and his retinue being led toward him by a centurion and his men.
“Flavius,” he said to the man at his side, never taking his eyes off the sight of the last co-emperor of the Roman Empire being led in shame to accept his judgment. “Make sure that centurion and his men are rewarded generously for their discipline and focus, and that any widows made today among them will never want for sustenance.”
“It will be done immediately, my emperor,” Flavius replied.
As Licinius was thrown to his knees in front of him, Constantine knew what this meant for him and the Roman Empire. Because of his treason, Licinius would have to be executed, and Constantine would become the sole emperor of the entire Roman Empire, something that had not happened in many years. Eager to press forward for the cause of Christ and to make changes for the betterment of Roman society as a whole, Constantine was also grateful and humbled by the task. He had many dreams and plans for the Empire, but never did he forget the Hands that had given him all of these things.
Constantine would be a huge advocate for the Christian Church, even offering his palace for the use of the Council of Nicea. He would commission bibles (expensive investments at the time), end pagan sacrifices, abortion, and infanticide, seeking justice in all things. What he would never imagine would be that he was merely the first of a long line of emperors and kings who embraced Christ and His Kingdom as preeminent over their own. One thing he could never imagine would be the crowning of a king in a beautiful church building, under the authority of God, in a time in which personal truth and preference trumped all else. One can only imagine his reaction to such a thing!
This piece first appeared in Fellowship & Fairydust’s issue Happy & Glorious: A Royal Celebration.