Flavian battled a eunuch named Chrysaphius throughout much of his adult life (all of this being quite long ago–in the 5th century). [As a general rule, when perusing ancient histories, sexual minorities never fare well, and eunuchs are no exception (perhaps only the Candace’s Ethiopian eunuch, mentioned in the Bible in Acts 8, who converts to Christianity gets a positive notation from ancient historians). Eunuchs often wielded great influence, were not segregated from women or men at court, and, like the best of drag queens and Beyonce’s Sasha, were Fierce.

Chrysaphius and Flavian became enemies because when the eunuch was working for the Roman Emperor and went to Constantinople to collect tribute from the church there, Flavian did not wish to pay–instead he offered three loaves of bread, insisting that the church would not be taxed and that its riches were for it to dispense (to the glory of God or to help the poor). Chrysaphius told Flavian that bread, literal bread, would not be satisfactory (after all, how well would it hold out by the time the eunuch got back to Rome, among other reasons) and Flavian told Chrysaphius to get lost.

So Butler tells us of the many ways over the years that Chrysaphius sought his revenge–by trying to get the Emperor’s sister made a deaconess in Flavian’s church (the Saint would have none of that!), by criticizing Flavian for being overtly harsh toward others who did not meet his (Flavian’s) high standards and doctrinal purity, by siding with a subsequent heretic in a theological battle with Flavian, and by taking no steps to stop a fight from breaking out among bishops and prelates and Asian soldiers and “a confused multitude with chains, clubs, and swords”–during which melee, Flavian was trampled to death.

Not long afterwards, Chrysaphius fell into disgrace (alongside the women in the Emperor’s life–another long saga), and he was executed.

Flavian is celebrated as a martyr to “correct doctrine”–that is, he is celebrated because he died in the process of publicly arguing on the side of (eventual) orthodoxy. Chrysaphius died because he ceased to be effective at his job of keeping the Emperor happy. Each contributed, directly or indirectly, to the other’s demise: Flavian, by not sending the tribute put Chrysaphius in an untenable position with his employer; Chrysaphius goaded Flavian and Flavian’s enemies into conflict then stood back and let the sparks (and kicks) fly.

How to assess any of this, knowing that it is the orthodox (i.e., the victors) who have written this history? Reading between the lines, if integrity means adhering strongly to a set of principles, even under pressure, then Flavian has it all over the pragmatic, even vindictive Chrysaphius. If being a stuck-up, intransigent, holier-than-every-other-thou is to be faulted, Flavian loses big. Flavian, for example, would not accept one fellow priest’s simple statement of “here’s what I believe–I am not saying you are wrong, but I am simply saying I believe differently on this point”–Flavian would not rest until he had gotten that priest excommunicated, thereby cutting him off from the graces and sacraments of his faith.

The question here for me in examining today’s saint (Flavian, in case you forgot) is this: why does “being in the right” count for so much more than “cutting others a break”…a direct corollary of the Golden Rule? Is it that there’s a higher calling in making others submit to orthodoxy (thereby saving their souls?) than in finding common ground with them? It’s a Big Question that haunts the history and the present-day aspirations of Christianity.