It is well-enough known that Nero was emperor from AD 54 when he was just 16 until his death as a young man of 30 in AD 68, just 14 years later. Paul ministered during most of those 14 years (we are not sure which year he died), accomplishing 3 famous missionary journeys from about AD 47 to AD 57, writing his famous epistle to the Romans in AD 57 near the end of his third journey, and visiting Nero’s Rome under house-arrest from AD 60-62, because when imprisoned in Caesarea from AD 57-59, he had appealed to Caesar for judgment in his case. It is important, then, to consider Nero, for Paul could not have been ignorant about this man — the man who would eventually condemn him to death.

Who was Nero and what kind of a man was he? The traditional understanding has been that he was a tyrant and a murderer, the man who burned the city of Rome and blamed Christians for it, initiating severe persecution of the Christian church.

However, John Drinkwater offers an assessment of Nero that differs significantly, asserting also that the Praetorian Guard was loyal to him.

“Nero, in the background, was far from the deranged, murderous tyrant of the Flavian/Jewish/Christian tradition and Quo Vadis? He never harboured any crazed belief about his own omnipotence or divinity. Indeed, always in touch with reality, he, like his advisers, had no great ideological goals, religious or political. Devoted to sport and art, not administration and war, Nero wanted to be a different sort of princeps, not to establish a different sort of Principate or Empire. Until the very end, he worked tirelessly, if misguidedly, to achieve this goal. He was certainly not habitually lazy, but he was no saint. His self-indulgence, increasing absorption by his own interests and, at times, peculiar, especially populist, behavior, provoked legitimate uncertainty about his character and suspicion of his motives. But this made him no ‘monster’. He was neither vindictive nor indeed, with his great dislike of bloodshed, cruel. He was not morally depraved, not unusually anti-social in his behavior, gluttonous, avaricious or lustful. He did not attempt to deprave others. In particular, he was neither a mad arsonist nor a vicious committed persecutor of Christianity.”¹

We must admit that Nero is difficult to evaluate because he was not the entirely same person for his entire reign. Who does not change from the age of 16 to 30?. As Guy de la Bédoyère explains, “His reign has gone down in history as the template of tyranny and infamy, even though in many ways the worst aspects of his rule really belong only to the last four of his fourteen years as emperor. The first five, and often forgotten, years of Nero’s reign were regarded then and afterwards as the five good years. Even so, Nero’s common touch meant that he enjoyed a remarkable level of popularity amongst the Roman mob.”² From Edward Champlin there is also this: “Explain it as they may, no ancient writer denies that the common people of Rome loved what Nero was doing.”³ Needless to say, from a Christian perspective and given the general depravity of the Roman populace, this does not actually count for much, though it offers insight into the early Christian era.

Nero’s last four years would be from AD 64/65 to 68. But it is undeniable that problems appeared long before then. For example, the first family murder in Nero’s bloody history was that of his step-brother, Britannicus — the full brother of his wife. The murder of Britannicus may or not have been engineered by Nero’s mother, Agrippina, but Nero was certainly at least complicit, for it followed just two months after Britannicus had publicly mocked Nero at his first Saturnalia in AD 54.⁴

Again, long before his last years, Nero had his mother, Agrippina, murdered in March of AD 59 after just about 5 years of rule. Matricide, being what it is, would seem necessarily to be included among the “worst aspects” of his reign. The details of the murder exacerbate it: “Before Nero tries to kill Agrippina, he invites her to a splendid banquet (Tac. Ann. 14.4.1–4; Suet. Ner. 34.2; Suet. Otho 3.1; Cass. Dio 62[61].13.1–2). Although the critical texts differ again in their details, they all agree that this banquet lasted long and that Nero was extremely friendly with his mother. He escorted her when she left, embraced and kissed her. In critical discourse, Nero fulfils the formal requirements of the convivium only when he simulates them for cruel purposes.”⁵

Then, in June of AD 62 — perhaps when Paul was still in Rome — Nero ordered the murder of his step-sister and wife Octavia. She would have been about 22, which means she was about 13 when Nero married her in AD 53, a marriage that enabled him to secure the throne in AD 54, when her father, the emperor Claudius, conveniently died. One would think that uxoricide — wife murder — would normally be counted as a “worst aspect” of a ruler’s life.

It would be tedious to attempt a list of Nero’s murders and to demonstrate in detail his cruelty. Suffice it to say that it is good that Drinkwater reminds us of Nero’s love of sports and music, even though we still find our attention distracted by the smell of blood.

But surely, is not Drinkwater correct to assert that Nero was not himself morally depraved and that he did not attempt to deprave others? The outstanding example to consider here does indeed lie within the last four years of Nero’s reign, but it does not represent a sudden conversion from good to evil. “The apogee of Nero’s reign as the King of Saturnalia came in 64 when, with Tigellinus as his entrepreneur, he celebrated the party of the century.”⁶ The banquet of Tigellinus “centered on the Stagnum Agrippae, the great artificial lake or pool in the Campus Martius which had been constructed by Agrippa, the right-hand man and later the son-in-law of the emperor Augustus.”⁷ Champlin describes it for us:

“A great raft was now built for Nero’s banqueters at the Stagnum—not the luxury yacht of a Ptolemy or a Caligula, but planks fixed on empty wine casks and covered with purple carpets and soft bedding. This was towed around the pool by other vessels adorned with gold and ivory. The rowers were male prostitutes, exoleti, who were arranged by their ages and their scientia libidinum, their sexual proficiency. The lake and its surroundings were stocked with exotic birds and beasts imported from distant lands and seas. On the banks of the lake stood taverns and brothels (lupanaria, oikemata, porneia), into which the people crowded while Nero and his companions floated about and dined in splendor. Tacitus suggests that on one side the brothels were filled with noblewomen, while on the other naked prostitutes disported in the open. Dio emphasizes the promiscuous availability of women of all kinds, noble and slave, professional prostitutes, matrons and virgins, all obliged to accommodate every request: here a slave had intercourse with his mistress in the presence of his master, there a gladiator enjoyed a noble maiden before her father’s eyes. When night fell, all the surrounding groves and buildings echoed with songs and shone with lights (Tacitus); or there was chaos, pushing, blows, shouts, and for many, both men and women, death (Dio).”⁸

The climax of the celebration, according to Champlin was this: “A few days later, Nero himself was solemnly given in marriage to one of his band of perverts (uni ex illo contaminatorum grege), Pythagoras by name. The emperor was adorned with a bridal veil; witnesses attended; there were the usual preparations for dowry, marriage bed, and wedding torches.”⁹ Nero, in other words, was the wife in this happy nuptial!

Champlin writes: “The effect of this narrative is stunning: a society collapses in an orgy of sex and violence under an emperor who seems determined to pervert the course of nature.”¹⁰ What is important to note here is that even though this utterly sordid celebration did occur during Nero’s last period, Champlin asserts that “the banquet of Tigellinus was not unique.”¹¹  In other words, Nero’s determination to pervert the course of nature began long before: “When the accounts of Tacitus and Dio are taken together, the shocking banquet of Tigellinus in 64 becomes little more than a repeat performance of the party in 59 — the boats loaded with diners cruising around the lake, the degraded noblewomen, the temporary inns on the banks, crowded with people.”¹²

Much more could be shown, but at least some readers will doubt Drinkwater’s assertion that neither was Nero himself depraved nor did he attempt to lure others into depravity.

But there is more. The most important single issue for Christians rethinking Nero is the great fire of AD 64 and its relationship to the persecution of Christians. Concerning the fire, Drinkwater asserts, “The Fire was almost certainly accidental.”¹³ He argues in some detail against the idea that Nero was guilty of arson.¹⁴

However, Champlin offers a more persuasive interpretation of the Great Fire of AD 64. Consider to begin with, as Champlin wrote, “if he [Nero] had deliberately set the fire, deliberately caused the death of thousands of his people and the deprivation of hundreds of thousands, that would indeed be monstrous.”¹⁵ With this, few would disagree.

But was Nero guilty of such a monstrous deed? After an extended review of the evidence, Champlin concluded, “The abrupt and inexplicable abandonment of foreign travel (after considerable preparation), not once but twice; the suggestion in Nero’s edict that he was needed to cheer his fellow-citizens in adversity; the significant omens of the Temple of Vesta (and perhaps of the collapsing theater in Naples); the fundamental connection between danger to the hearth of Rome and the conceptualization of Rome as a house and her citizens as his close relatives — all these point to one end: that Nero knew what was coming. A senior officer in his guard, a man who had been with him during the fire, accused him nine months afterwards, to his face, of being the arsonist. It looks as if Nero was responsible for the Great Fire after all, as his ancient critics maintained, and his motive can only have been the one alleged, that he wanted to rebuild the city.”¹⁶

What about persecuting Christians? Not even Drinkwater denies that Nero blamed Christians for the fire. Whatever may be said about the details, the fact that he blamed his fire on Christians and persecuted them for it — even burning them in his garden — aggravates the monstrous reality. In so doing, Nero himself was probably not aware of the full meaning of his iniquity, just as the ancient Pharaoh who murdered Israelite children was almost certainly not a self-conscious agent of Satan. But both Pharaoh and Nero had given themselves up to demonic influence and control long before they committed their most horrendous acts.

What does all of this have to do with Paul? First, Paul knew all we know about Nero and more. Knowing Paul’s environment helps us understand his situation when he was in house-arrest in Rome. Surely Paul had heard general rumors about Nero’s depravity. Reports of Nero’s celebrations and the gross immorality that attended them could have also come to Paul through the firsthand witness of Praetorian Guards who were chained to him, some of whom might well have found Nero offensive. The public nature of Nero’s profligacy would have provoked enough attention that Paul might have asked a guard about the emperor. After all, there is no reason to assume that Paul never asked them any questions, and even if some or many guards were reluctant to answer him, much of what they could have reported would have been common knowledge among the Praetorian Guard and the larger household, with whom Paul also seems to have had direct contact (Philippians 4:22).

More than anything else, Paul would have known and realized that Nero’s unspeakable depravity was typical of the age and therefore popular. Paul’s lists of sins and his teaching about righteousness, especially in his prison epistles, might have the corruption of Nero and Rome specifically in mind.

Second, we need to remember that Paul saw his situation in the light of Jesus’ promise that he would testify in Rome, just as Paul and the Christians of his day saw the imminent coming of the end, when Jesus’ words in the Olivet Discourse would be fulfilled. The temple would be destroyed, along with the whole city. For the Jews, it was the end of their era. Israel was divorced finally and there would be no more temple. For the church, the fulfillment of Jesus’ prophecies meant vindication of Jesus Himself, but also the vindication of His bride. Her era began with a public manifestation of the truth of her Lord.

Third, there is the matter of the relevance of Paul’s teaching for our day. One of the things that strikes me about the history of Nero and his gross depravity is how much it resembles modern day Hollywood and elite American society — think of Jeffrey Epstein and his clientele. Nero thought of himself as an artist and an actor. Much of what he did seems to have been alluding to ancient myths, acting out the stories of the gods and heroes. Hollywood is hardly less depraved than Nero. Though perhaps matricide, uxoricide, and fratricide are not common, every sort of sexual sin, including the abuse of children, is rampant. We live in an almost “Neronic” era, but since it is a post-Christian era which is self-consciously rejecting the light of Christ, the sin is actually greater.

Drinkwater’s attempt to mitigate the gross immorality of Nero and his reign, especially the persecution of Christians, is hard to swallow, but it fits with the spirit of our own age in which the most egregious perversions — drag-queens, for example — are treated not merely as light-wight sin, but even more as examples of tolerance and love to be emulated and taught to children. Nero would be happy to be an artist and musician in our day!

On our part, with Paul, we are called to proclaim the truth that Jesus is the One True Lord and to seek the growth of His kingdom in a world of sin.

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Notes

1. John F. Drinkwater, Nero: Emperor and Court (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2019), p. 418. ↩︎
2. Guy de la Bédoyère, Praetorian: The Rise and Fall of Rome’s Imperial Bodyguard (New Haven: Yale University, 2017), p. 122. ↩︎
3. Edward Champlin, Nero (Cambridge, MS: Harvard University Press, 2003), p. 67. ↩︎
4. Champlin, p. 151. ↩︎
5. Verena Schulz, Deconstructing Imperial Representation: Tacitus, Cassius Dio, and Suetonius on Nero and Domitian (Leiden: Brill, 2019), pp. 27-28. ↩︎
6. Champlin, p. 153. ↩︎
7. Ibid., p. 153. ↩︎
8. Ibid., p. 154. ↩︎
9. Ibid., p. 154. There was also the boy, Sporus, that Nero had castrated so that he could marry him. But, as Edward Champlin says, “It may not be to everyone’s taste, but calling a boy Sporus after cutting off his testicles was meant as a joke.” p. 150. Even after 2000 years, it is hard to contain one’s laughter. ↩︎
10. Ibid., p. 154. ↩︎
11. Ibid. ↩︎
12. Ibid., p. 155. ↩︎
13. Drinkwater, p. 416. ↩︎
14. Ibid, pp. 234-243. ↩︎
15. Champlin, pp. 180-82. ↩︎
16. Ibid., p. 191. Italics added. Tacitus records the testimony of Subrius Flavus : “Questioned by Nero as to the motives which had led him on to forget his oath of allegiance, ‘I hated you,’ he replied; ‘yet not a soldier was more loyal to you while you deserved to be loved. I began to hate you when you became the murderer of your mother and your wife, a charioteer, an actor, and an incendiary.’ I have given the man’s very words (ipsa rettuli verba).” One of the most loyal members of Nero’s guard hated him because, among other things, he set fire to Rome. ↩︎