July 10 - Great Transformation: The Peasant Who Conquered the Byzantine Empire
When Faithful Living Trumps Formal Learning
This is the day a former peasant was proclaimed as Byzantine Emperor Justin I in the Hippodrome of Constantinople in 518.
In today's lesson, we will explore how an illiterate peasant became emperor and accomplished what educated theologians could not—ending a decades-long division in Christianity through humble obedience rather than scholarly brilliance. What does God's choice of the unlikely Justin I reveal about His criteria for spiritual authority? How might our modern obsession with credentials be causing us to overlook the very people God has been quietly preparing to speak His truth?

"Who is wise and understanding among you? Let them show it by their good life, by deeds done in the humility that comes from wisdom." - James 3:13 (NIV)
This Date in History
The torches flickered across the vast arena as thousands of voices roared approval. In the center of the Hippodrome of Constantinople, a weathered man in his late sixties stood motionless as the Patriarch of Constantinople placed the imperial crown upon his head. Justin, the former swineherd from a remote Thracian village, had just become the most powerful ruler in the Christian world.
Hours earlier, Emperor Anastasius I had died childless in the Great Palace. By dawn, word had spread through the capital's winding streets and crowded markets. Senators, palace officials, and military commanders gathered in emergency session while citizens filled the Hippodrome, waiting to learn who would rule their empire. Several candidates emerged from Anastasius's extended family. His brother Paulus had served as consul. Nephews and other relatives pressed their claims through networks of supporters and gold.
Yet none commanded the loyalty that truly mattered. In the imperial guard barracks, soldiers spoke of their commander with respect earned through decades of faithful service. Justin had risen from absolute obscurity through merit alone. Born around 450 in Bederiana, near the fortress town that protected Thrace's vulnerable frontier, he had witnessed his homeland devastated by Hun and Ostrogoth raids. Poverty had driven him and two companions to walk hundreds of miles to Constantinople, carrying only dried bread for sustenance.
The capital offered opportunities for strong young men willing to fight. Emperor Leo I was recruiting a new palace guard, the Excubitors, designed to counter the growing influence of Germanic troops in the army. Justin enlisted immediately. His companions vanished into historical anonymity, but Justin possessed qualities that caught his superiors' attention. Physical strength, tactical intelligence, and unshakeable loyalty propelled him through the ranks over thirty years.
Under Emperor Anastasius, Justin had commanded the Excubitors for nearly two decades. He controlled access to the emperor and held responsibility for palace security. His position made him influential but not wealthy. He remained a simple soldier who spoke Greek with a thick Latin accent and struggled with reading. Court intellectuals dismissed him as an uneducated barbarian.
The morning of July 10 proved them catastrophically wrong. When senators and high officials debated succession in the Great Palace, Justin moved decisively. His guards controlled strategic positions throughout the complex. Other candidates possessed aristocratic bloodlines and scholarly credentials, but they lacked the military force to claim the throne. Palace guards answered to Justin, not to philosophers or bureaucrats.
Negotiations lasted hours. Various factions promoted their preferred candidates while rejecting rivals for political or religious reasons. Some wanted to continue Anastasius's moderate theological policies. Others demanded Orthodox reform. As arguments intensified, Justin's supporters emphasized practical realities. The empire faced Persian threats in the east and barbarian pressure along the Danube. Military leadership mattered more than theological sophistication.
By afternoon, consensus emerged around the grizzled commander. Justin represented stability and strength without the dangerous ambitions that aristocratic candidates might harbor. His humble origins actually worked in his favor, suggesting he would govern pragmatically rather than pursue personal vendettas. The senators agreed to present his name to the people.
The Hippodrome ceremony confirmed what palace negotiations had already decided. Patriarch John of Cappadocia performed the coronation while tens of thousands cheered their approval. Justin's first acts demonstrated wisdom that surprised his critics. He immediately named his nephew Justinian as chief advisor, acknowledging his own educational limitations while securing succession for his family. He also signaled his intention to heal the religious divisions that had plagued Anastasius's final years.
The new emperor moved quickly to consolidate power and address the empire's challenges. Unlike previous rulers who had tried to balance competing theological factions, Justin firmly supported Chalcedonian orthodoxy. This decision ended the eighteen-year Acacian Schism with Rome and restored unity between eastern and western churches. He also began planning military reforms to strengthen frontier defenses.
Justin's remarkable rise from peasant to emperor reflected the Byzantine Empire's unique character. Unlike western kingdoms where birth determined destiny, Constantinople rewarded talent and loyalty. A Thracian swineherd could become Caesar through courage and service. His reign would establish the Justinian dynasty and lay groundwork for his nephew's later achievements in law, architecture, and territorial expansion.
Historical Context
The Byzantine Empire that Justin inherited in 518 represented the eastern continuation of the Roman Empire, centered in Constantinople since Emperor Constantine's founding of the city in 330. While the western Roman Empire had collapsed in 476, the eastern empire maintained Roman law, administration, and military traditions while embracing Greek culture and Orthodox Christianity. By Justin's time, the empire controlled modern-day Turkey, the Balkans, parts of the Middle East, and Egypt, serving as the primary defender of Christian civilization against Persian and barbarian threats.
The religious crisis Justin faced stemmed from centuries of theological conflict over Christ's nature. The Council of Chalcedon in 451 had declared that Jesus possessed both fully divine and fully human natures united in one person, rejecting both Nestorianism (which emphasized Christ's two separate natures) and Monophysitism (which taught that Christ had only one divine nature). However, Emperor Zeno's Henotikon decree in 482 had attempted to reconcile these factions by avoiding precise theological language, inadvertently creating the Acacian Schism when Pope Felix III excommunicated Patriarch Acacius of Constantinople for supporting the compromise. For thirty-six years, the churches of Rome and Constantinople remained divided, with eastern emperors caught between appeasing Monophysite populations in Egypt and Syria while maintaining relations with the Latin West. Justin's decisive support for Chalcedonian orthodoxy not only healed this breach but established a theological foundation that would define Byzantine Christianity for centuries. His reign launched the Justinian dynasty, which would produce some of Christianity's most significant legal, architectural, and theological achievements, including the Corpus Juris Civilis law code and the magnificent Hagia Sophia cathedral that proclaimed Christian triumph to the world.
Did You Know?
Born Latin-speaking and functionally illiterate, Justin I reportedly needed a stencil to sign his name and spoke Greek with a thick accent, leading some courtiers to mock him as uneducated—yet he defied expectations by resolving the decades-long Acacian Schism with Rome around 519 AD.
Justin I's wife Lupicina changed her name to Euphemia upon becoming empress, because "Lupicina" was associated with prostitution in some languages, and she chose "Euphemia" after a Christian martyr from Chalcedon to emphasize orthodox affiliation.
Despite being around 68 years old when proclaimed emperor, Justin I ensured his nephew Justinian received a top‑tier education in law, theology, and administration, effectively training the future great Byzantine ruler.
The gold given by palace official Amantius during the succession crisis was repurposed by Justin to secure loyalty for himself—demonstrating how he outmaneuvered more sophisticated courtiers with decisive action.
Today’s Reflection
The coronation ceremony must have felt surreal to those who witnessed it. Here stood a man who needed a stencil to sign his name, speaking Greek with such a thick accent that palace intellectuals snickered behind his back.
Yet as Patriarch John of Cappadocia placed the imperial crown upon Justin's weathered head, something extraordinary occurred—not merely political, but spiritual. A former peasant, widely dismissed as unqualified and unlearned, was about to succeed where scholars and statesmen had failed for decades.
"Who is wise and understanding among you? Let them show it by their good life, by deeds done in the humility that comes from wisdom." James 3:13 (NIV)
James understood what our credential-obsessed age often forgets: true wisdom is not proven in lecture halls but in life. It is not conferred by degrees but cultivated through obedience. Justin I, however unlikely, exemplified this truth in ways that continue to challenge the Church today.
The intellectuals surrounding the Byzantine court expected spiritual authority to flow through traditional channels. Surely God would work through theologically trained elites—those with the intellectual finesse to resolve ecclesiastical conflict. But God, as He so often does, chose differently. Instead of the scholar, He allowed the soldier to rise.
While theologians debated the nature of Christ, Justin had quietly spent thirty years serving with unshakeable loyalty. No sermons, no treatises—just obedience in obscurity. His life testified to the quiet fruit of faithfulness. Not brilliance, but consistency. Not credentials, but character.
Within months of taking the throne, Justin resolved the Acacian Schism—a division between eastern and western churches that had lasted nearly four decades. Not through rhetorical brilliance or academic theory, but through decisive humility and a willingness to act upon truth.
We cannot know for certain whether Justin consciously trusted God in a personal way. But his humility and deference, his decisive actions on behalf of the Church, and his dependence on wise counsel suggest a heart shaped by something far deeper than ambition.
The modern Church desperately needs to reclaim this understanding of spiritual authority. We live in an era where credentials often matter more than character, where eloquence can overshadow authenticity, and where academic achievement frequently serves as a substitute for spiritual maturity. Seminary degrees become badges of authority, while decades of faithful service in obscurity go unnoticed.
"But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise..." 1 Corinthians 1:27 (NIV)
This isn't an argument against education. Knowledge can be a powerful tool in God's hands. But it is a warning against confusing human validation with divine appointment. When we assume that spiritual insight requires institutional certification, we risk dismissing those whom God has been quietly preparing through different means.
Do we give greater credence to the seminary graduate than to the faithful janitor who prays through the night? Are we more likely to trust the eloquent speaker than the humble servant whose life consistently reflects Christ? Have we inadvertently created a system where God's voice can only be heard through officially sanctioned channels?
The danger isn't in honoring education—but in idolizing it. When we equate degrees with divine calling, we may find ourselves rejecting the very people God has chosen to speak into our lives.
Some of the wisest spiritual counsel comes from individuals whose only qualification is a lifetime of walking closely with Jesus through both triumph and hardship. Their words carry the weight of seasons endured, not syllabi completed. My own father, who barely finished the eigth grade and only ever took a few Bible classes early in life, was known for his deep wisdom and scripturally grounded advice. He didn’t speak with academic polish, but with the kind of authority that only comes from prayerful study, tested faith, and a heart tuned to God’s voice.
Becaues true spiritual authority develops in the hidden places. It grows through years of choosing obedience when no one is watching, serving faithfully in unglamorous roles, and allowing God to shape character through circumstances that never make headlines. This kind of wisdom can't be earned through coursework or conferred through ceremony.
"The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, and knowledge of the Holy One is understanding." Proverbs 9:10 (NIV)
Justin's unlikely ascent reminds us that God's measure of leadership is rarely aligned with human systems. Maybe the person best equipped to lead your ministry isn't the one with the most impressive résumé—but the one whose character has been proven through quiet, sustained faithfulness.
We must learn to recognize wisdom that doesn't wear academic robes. We need to make space for voices shaped by intimacy with God rather than institutional recognition. And we must remember: spiritual maturity is measured not by what someone knows, but by how consistently they live what they believe.
Practical Application
Before dismissing someone's spiritual insight because they lack formal theological training, spend a week observing their life rather than evaluating their credentials. Notice how they respond to pressure, treat people in authority, and serve when no recognition is offered. Ask yourself whether their character demonstrates the fruit of genuine wisdom that comes from walking closely with God. Consider whether you've unconsciously created barriers that prevent humble, faithful believers from sharing their spiritual insights in your church or small group, and actively seek opportunities to learn from those whose authority comes from lived experience rather than academic achievement.
Closing Prayer
Heavenly Father, we thank You for the reminder that Your ways are not our ways and Your thoughts are higher than our thoughts. We confess that too often we have valued human credentials over godly character, eloquence over authenticity, and academic achievement over spiritual maturity. Help us to recognize true wisdom wherever You choose to place it, whether in the seminary graduate or the faithful servant who has walked with You through decades of quiet obedience. Give us humility to learn from those whose authority comes not from institutions but from intimacy with You. Transform our hearts to value what You value and to honor those whom You honor. May we never dismiss the voice of someone simply because they lack the credentials we think matter, and may we always remember that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. In Jesus' name, we pray. Amen.
Final Thoughts
The most profound spiritual authority often comes wrapped in the most unlikely packages. In a world that demands impressive credentials and polished presentations, God continues to work through those whose only qualification is a heart surrendered to His purposes. When we learn to recognize wisdom that has been forged in the hidden places of faithful obedience rather than the public halls of academic achievement, we open ourselves to receiving truth from the very people our culture might overlook. True spiritual maturity is not measured by what someone has studied, but by how consistently they have allowed God to shape their character through seasons of both prosperity and hardship.
Also On This Date In History
July 10 - Trailblazing Wyoming: The Remarkable Rise of the Equality State
This is the day Wyoming became the 44th state of the United States in 1890, notably being the first state to grant women the right to vote.
Author’s Notes
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This is very essential.
Time to listen up.
It is not how you APPEAR but how you ARE which counts.
I very much appreciate this text. And will reread it.
Thank you.
East West North South, the 👑 Kingdom is Vast!
Thank you for this little snip of history.
🌐 🌴 🌙 ⛪ ☦️ Saint Joseph of Damascus and companions, pray for us! (7/10/1860+)🕯️🔔