Calumny and Pope Callistus I

Calumny, according to the glossary of the Catechism of the Catholic Church, is a “false statement which harms the reputation of others and gives occasion for false judgments concerning them.” The sin of calumny is as old as Adam and Eve, who famously blamed everyone except themselves for the events of the third chapter of Genesis. Modern technology simply makes it easier for their descendants (including us, of course) to spread our falsehoods faster and more efficiently.

Few saints’ lives epitomize the dangers of calumny more perfectly than does the life of Saint Callistus. According to a fourth century tradition, October 14, 2022, marks the 1800^th anniversary of the death of Callistus I, the sixteenth pope of the Church. Beyond those facts, just about everything else we know about Callistus is open to debate because our information comes from hostile contemporaries.

If the only biographies of your life were written by two people who hated you, could subsequent generations piece together the truth about your life? Perhaps that would be possible if they examined your life in reverse chronological order, trying to understand how you lived your life, but starting first with how you ended it. This approach is certainly helpful in coming to a better understanding of Saint Callistus.

Some of the earliest lists of the popes name Callistus as a saint and a martyr. Since the practice of the Catholic faith was considered treason in the Roman Empire from the first pope to the thirty-third pope, martyrdom was always near at hand for Christ’s Vicar on earth, even during relatively quiet periods. There was apparently no widespread persecution of Christians during Callistus’ time under the reign of the Roman emperor Severus Alexander. But it is plausible, as some records say, that Callistus was killed during a riot. Presumably his death occurred at the hands of a mob in the city of Rome; Christians were always a convenient scapegoat during times of plague, famine, or other disasters.

Knowing that the people of the early Church considered Callistus to be a saint helps us re-interpret the accounts of his papacy by the only contemporary sources we have: the writings of early Church leaders Tertullian and Hippolytus.

After all, we know how those two men’s lives ended. Both Tertullian and Hippolytus were brilliant men and faithful Catholics for many years, but at some point, their faith in Christ’s Church faltered. They strenuously objected to Callistus’ decisions as pope, claiming that he was being far too lenient. Tertullian eventually left the Church and became a follower of the Montanist heresy; Hippolytus set himself up as the first anti-pope and only repented when a later pope (Saint Pontian) brought him back into the Church while both men were in prison. (This is why Hippolytus is called Saint Hippolytus by the Church.)

Knowing how far Tertullian and Hippolytus strayed from the faith—and in what direction—it becomes easier to back out the truth about Saint Callistus. They were furious that Callistus dared to make changes—any changes—to the disciplinary practices established by previous popes. They were outraged that the pope would allow Christian marriage in situations prohibited by Roman law, such as allowing noble women to marry slaves. They were irate that he allowed murderers and adulterers to return to the Church after they had performed public penance. To Tertullian and Hippolytus, there were limits to God’s mercy.

While these two men clearly thought that Callistus was being far too lenient with sinners, his decisions appear to us to be orthodox, merciful, and moderate. Callistus acted within his rights and duties as pope, but Tertullian and Hippolytus thought that they (literally) knew better than the pope.

No one seems to contest that Callistus served as a deacon before he was elected pope. Ancient sources agree that he was given the responsibility of superintending what was probably the first piece of land owned by the Church: a cemetery. He presumably negotiated with private owners of adjacent properties to create one communal property for the Catholics of Rome. The Catacomb of Saint Callixtus, as it is now generally known, once contained the remains of several early popes. Callistus’ real estate venture gave Catholics some privacy (from the authorities and from nosy neighbors) when they buried their dead, unlike their pagan neighbors, who cremated their dead before burial.

Callistus’ enemies also claim that he was a slave before he became a deacon. According to them, Callistus lost the money that his master had deposited with him, tried to drown himself out of despair, and was condemned to spend the rest of his life working at a mill. He was then arrested for brawling and only escaped a short and brutal life spent working in Sardinian mines when the emperor’s mistress (who was a Christian) coaxed the emperor into releasing some of his Christian prisoners.

But knowing the end of Callistus’ story, it’s not hard to pick out pieces of truth from these distorted claims. Yes, Callistus was almost certainly a slave. His enemies pointed this out to disgrace him, but our Lord did not treat slaves as any less human than those who were not enslaved. Yes, Callistus was probably a Christian servant of a Christian master. Since Hippolytus doesn’t say that Callistus lost his master’s money through dishonest activities—which he surely would have loved to say—it’s more likely that Callistus lost the money through no fault of his own. It also seems more likely that Callistus tried to run away from his angry master on a boat and was caught, rather than that he boarded a boat merely to try to kill himself. His arrest for brawling in a Jewish synagogue was probably the result of him trying to recover his master’s money from his Jewish creditors, not a random desire to get in a fight. And Callistus’ decision to return to Rome after his release from the mines, no longer as a slave but as a free man, shows that he believed he still had friends in that city, not enemies.

Callistus’ life story demonstrates that not much has changed in human nature over eighteen centuries. It is all too easy to assume the worst about those with whom we disagree and distort every aspect of their life to make them appear less credible. Or, more often, we do so because it is easier to be angry than it is to love and understand our opponents.

The entire section of the Catechism of the Catholic Church which deals with telling the truth in love (nos. 2464-2513) would be an excellent section for every Catholic to read and ponder, particularly before going to Confession. But no. 2477 is a particularly relevant passage for those of us who are tempted to type and speak faster than we should:

Respect for the reputation of persons forbids every attitude and word likely to cause them unjust injury. He becomes guilty:
– of rash judgment who, even tacitly, assumes as true, without sufficient foundation, the moral fault of a neighbor;
– of detraction who, without objectively valid reason, discloses another’s faults and failings to persons who did not know them;
– of calumny who, by remarks contrary to the truth, harms the reputation of others and gives occasion for false judgments concerning them.

If Pope Callistus’ life can teach us anything, it is that we Christians can and should aim for more Christ-like standards when we speak about others, particularly those who think of us as their enemies.