THE memory of St. Clement has been surrounded with a peculiar
glory from the very beginning of the Roman Church. After the death of
the Apostles, he seems to eclipse Linus and Cletus, although these
preceded him in the pontificate. We pass, as it were, naturally from
Peter to Clement; and the East celebrates his memory with no less
honour than the West. He was in truth the universal pontiff, and his
acts as well as his writings are renowned throughout the entire Church.
This widespread reputation caused numbers of apocryphal writings to be
attributed to him, which, however, it is easy to distinguish from his
own. But it is remarkable that all the falsifiers who have thought fit
to put his name to their own works, or to invent stories concerning
him, agree in declaring that he was of imperial descent.
With only one exception, all the documents which attest Clement's
intervention in the affairs of distant churches have perished with
time; but the one that remains shows us in full action the monarchical
power of the bishop of Rome at that primitive epoch. The church of
Corinth was disturbed with intestine quarrels caused by jealousy
against certain pastors. These divisions, the germ of which had
appeared even in St. Paul's time, had destroyed all peace, and were
causing scandal to the very pagans. The Corinthians at last felt the
necessity of putting an end to a disorder which might be prejudicial to
the extension of the Christian faith; and for this purpose it was
requisite to seek assistance from outside. The Apostles had all
departed this life, except St. John, who was still the light of the
Church. It was no great distance from Corinth to Ephesus where the
Apostle resided: yet it was not to Ephesus but to Rome that the church
of Corinth turned. Clement examined the case referred to his judgment
by that church, and sent to Corinth five commissaries to represent the
Apostolic See. They were bearers of a letter, which St. Irenæus
calls potentissimas litteras.
It was considered at the time so beautiful and so apostolic, that it
was long read in many churches as a sort of continuation of the
canonical Scriptures. Its tone is dignified
but paternal, according to St. Peter's advice to pastors. There is
nothing in it of a domineering spirit; but the grave and solemn
language bespeaks the universal pastor, whom none can disobey without
disobeying God Himself. These words so solemn and so firm wrought the
desired effect: peace was re-established in the church of Corinth, and
the messengers of the Roman Pontiff soon brought back the happy news. A
century later, St. Dionysius, bishop of Corinth, expressed to Pope St.
Soter the gratitude still felt by his flock towards St. Clement for the
service he had rendered. Brought up in the school of the apostles,
Clement had retained their style and manner. These are visible in his
two 'Letters to Virgins,' which are mentioned by St. Epiphanius and St.
Jerome, and were found in the eighteenth century translated into
Syriac, in a manuscript brought from Aleppo. As St. Cecilia reminded us
yesterday, the principle of vowing chastity to God was, from the very
beginning, one of the bases of Christianity, and one of the most
effectual means for the transformation of the world. Christ Himself had
praised the superior merit of this sacrifice; and St. Paul, comparing
the two states of life, taught that the virgin is wholly taken up with
our Lord, while the married woman, whatever her dignity, is divided. [1
Cor. vii.] Clement had to develop this doctrine, and he did so in these
two letters. Anticipating those great doctors of Christian virginity,
St. Athanasius, St. Ambrose, St. Jerome, St. John Chrysostom, St.
Augustine, he developed the teachings of St. Peter and St. Paul on this
important subject. 'He or she,' he says, 'who aspires to this higher
life, must lead like the Angels an existence all Divine and heavenly.
The virgin cuts herself off from the allurements of the senses; not
only does she renounce the right to their even lawful use, but she
aspires to that hope which God, Who can never deceive, encourages by
His promise, and which far surpasses the natural hope of posterity. In
return for her generous sacrifice, her portion in Heaven is the very
happiness of the Angels.'
Thus spoke the disciple chosen by St. Peter to set his hand to the task
of renovating Rome. It needed no less than this strong doctrine in
order to combat the depraved manners of the Empire. Had Christianity
been satisfied with inviting men to honour, as the philosophers had
done, its efforts would have been to no purpose. Stoicism, by exciting
great pride, could bring some men even to despise death; but it was
utterly powerless against sensuality, which we must own to have been
the strongest auxiliary to the tyranny of the Cæsars. The ideal
of chastity, thrown into the midst of that dissolute society, could
alone arrest the ignominious torrent that threatened to submerge all
human dignity.
Happily for the world, Christian morality succeeded in gaining
ground; and, its maxims being followed up by striking examples, it at
length forced itself upon the public notice. Roman corruption was
amazed to hear of virginity being held in honour and practised by a
great many followers of the new religion; and that at a time when the
greatest privileges and the most terrible chastisements could scarcely
keep to their duty the six vestals upon whose fidelity depended the
honour and the safety of the city. Vespasian and Titus were aware of
the infringements upon their primary duty committed by these guardians
of the Palladium; but they considered that the low level at which
morals then stood forbade them to inflict the ancient penalties upon
these traitresses.
The time, however, was at hand, when the emperors, the senate, and all
Rome, were to learn from the first Apology of St. Justin the marvels of
purity concealed within that Babylon of iniquity. 'Among us, in this
city,' said the apologist, 'there are many men and women who have
reached the age of sixty or seventy years: brought up from infancy
under the law of Christ, they have persevered to this day in the state
of virginity; and there is not a country where I could not point out
many such.' Athenagoras, in a memorial presented a few years later to
Marcus Aurelius, was able to say in like manner: 'You will find among
us a multitude of persons, both men and women, who have passed their
life up to old age in the state of virginity, having no ambition but to
unite themselves more intimately to God.'
Clement was predestined to the glory of Martyrdom; he was banished to
the Chersonesus, on the Black Sea. The Acts, which relate the details
of his sufferings, are of very great antiquity; we shall not here enter
into discussions concerning them. They tell us how Clement found in the
peninsula a considerable number of Christians already transported
there, and employed in working the rich and abundant marble quarries.
The joy of these Christians on seeing Clement is easily conceived; his
zeal in propagating the faith in this far-off country, and the success
of his apostolate, are no matter for surprise. The miracle of a
fountain springing from the rock at Clement's word, to quench the
thirst of the confessors, is a fact analogous to hundreds of others
related in the most authentic Acts of the Saints. Lastly, the
apparition of the mysterious lamb upon the mountain, marking with his
foot the spot whence the water was to flow, carries back the mind to
the earliest Christian mosaics, on which may still be seen the symbols
of the lamb standing on a green hillock.
In the ninth century St. Cyril, apostle of the Slavs, discovered near
Cherson the precious remains of the Martyr-Pontiff. Clement was brought
back to Rome; and the great church which had hitherto, according to St.
Jerome, 'preserved the memory of his name,' henceforth possessed a
still richer treasure. The very memory, however, was of great value
for; science no less than for piety: on the testimony of ancient
traditions, this church was built on the site of St. Clement's old home
in the region of Monte Cœlio, which we know from other sources to have
been the quarter preferred by the Roman aristocracy of the period.
Modern archaeological investigations have discovered beneath the apse
of the primitive basilica, and forming a sort of underground confession
or crypt, the rooms of a private dwelling, the style and ornaments of
which are of the Flavian period.
