It is recorded in the Acts of the apostles that Arabians, or Arabian proselytes, were present at the Jewish feast of Pentecost. We must therefore go back to Apostolic times to find the beginnings of Christianity in Arabia. Whether these Arabians were from the northern part of the peninsula bordering on Syria, from the dominions of the Arabian king Hareth (Aretas), or came as Jewish proselytes from distant Jewish colonies of Yemen, must ever remain uncertain. In any case they doubtless carried back to their homes something of the Pentecostal message or blessing. The New Testament references to Arabia are not disconnected and unique, but stand in closest relation to the whole Old Testament revelation of God’s dealings with Ishmael and his descendants.

In Paul’s letter to the Galatians,[114] he writes, “Neither went I up to Jerusalem to them which were apostles before me; but I went to Arabia, and returned again unto Damascus.” What did the great apostle to the Gentiles do in Arabia? A consideration of this question will give us a better standpoint to review the later rise of Christianity not only in North Arabia, but in Nejran and Yemen. “A veil of thick darkness,” says Lightfoot, “hangs over St. Paul’s visit to Arabia.” The particular part of Arabia visited, the length of his stay, the motive of his going, the route taken and what he did there,—all is left untold. We can draw the map and tell the story of all but the first great journey of the apostle. Certainly the first journey of the new Saul of Tarsus cannot have been without some great purpose. The probable length of his stay, which is by some put at only six months, but which may have been two years,[115] would also indicate some importance in the event.

Visions and revelations to this Elijah and Moses of the new dispensation there may have been while he tarried in the desert, but it is scarcely probable to suppose that at this critical juncture in early church history so long a time should have been occupied with these only. Therefore, we find the earliest commentators of the opinion that Paul’s visit to Arabia was his first missionary journey, and that he “conferred not with flesh and blood,” but went into Arabia to preach the gospel.[116] “See how fervent was his soul,” says Chrysostom, “he was eager to occupy lands yet untilled, he forthwith attacked a barbarous and savage people, choosing a life of conflict and much toil.” The idea that Paul went to preach immediately after his conversion is natural; and that he should, as the Gentile apostle, seek first that race which was also a son of Abraham and heir of many Old Testament promises and whose representatives were present at Pentecost, is not improbable.

But if Paul went to Arabia and preached the gospel, where and to whom did he go? A certain reply to these questions is unattainable since revelation is silent, but (1) The place was most probably the Sinaitic peninsula, or the region east of Sinai (Rawlinson). (2) There is more than one reason to hold with Jerome and later writers that he went to a tribe where his mission was unsuccessful as regards visible results. (3) The only people of the desert then, as now, were Arab Bedouin, and of the probability that Paul also knew their life and customs, Robertson Smith gives a curious illustration in an allusion to Galations vi. 17, when speaking of tattoo marks in religion.[117]

Now was there an Arab tribe in the days of Paul, in the region southwest of Damascus, to whom a missionary came with a new and strange message which was not favorably received, and yet whom and whose message those Arabs could not forget?

We find a curious legend taken up with other nomad dÉbris into the maelstrom of Mohammed’s mutterings that may help to answer the question. It is about the Nebi Salih or “good prophet,” who came to the people of Thamud,[118] and whose person and mission is as much a mystery to Moslem commentators as Paul’s visit to Arabia is to us. European critics suggest his identity with Shelah of Genesis xi. 13! but etymology and chronology both afford the most meagre basis. Palmer offers a theory that Nebi Salih is none other than the “righteous prophet” Moses;[119] but the difficulty is that this puts the legend too far back in history. It is not probable that the people of Thamud “hewed out mountains into houses,” such as are found to-day as early as in the days of Moses. Nor does Old Testament indicate a time when Moses went to Arabs with a Divine message. Moreover, the legend is evidently a local one that came to the knowledge of Mohammed, or it would have been better known to him who borrowed so largely from the former prophets; and if it is a local legend, it is not a legend of Moses, for he is mentioned more than seventy-seven times in the Koran, and his story was well known in Arabia, at least as far as Yemen.

The pith of the legend underlies the bark; what says the Koran? Nebi Salih came as a “brother,”[120] and said, “O, my people, worship God. Ye have no God but Him.[121] There has come to you an evident sign from your Lord.[122] ... And remember how He made you vice-regents after ’Ad, and stablished you in the earth ... and remember the benefits of God.[123] Said the chiefs of those who were big with pride from amongst his people (Pharisees or Jews from Damascus?) to those who believed amongst them: Do ye know that Salih is sent from his Lord? (i. e., his Lord is not your true God). They said, We do believe in that with which He is sent, (gospel?) “Said those who were big with pride, Verily, in what ye do believe we disbelieve.” The passage is again significant: “And he turned away from them (back to Damascus?) and said, O, my people, I did preach unto you the message of my Lord,[124] and I gave you good advice, but ye love not sincere advisers.” Does not this story have points of contact with what might have been the experiences of a man like Paul among such a people?

The fact that there is a so-called tomb of Nebi Salih at El Watiyeh (Palmer) does not weigh much for or against any theory as to the identity of the prophet. Arabia has tombs of Job on the Upper Euphrates, of Eve at Jiddah, of Cain at Aden, and of other “prophets” where there is a demand for it. But it is interesting to learn from the learned author of The Desert of the Exodus: “The origin and history of Nebi Salih is quite unknown to the present Bedouin inhabitants, but they nevertheless regard him with more national veneration than even Moses himself.” If revered more than Moses, why not was he later than Moses—greater than Moses—even Saul of Tarsus? Whether this theory be only far-fetched or whether it has confirmation in the early spread of Christianity in North Arabia the sequel may show.

Historical Christianity in Arabia had two centres, so that the study of its early rise and progress takes us first to the tribes furthest north, in the kingdoms of Hirah and Ghassan and then to fertile Yemen and Nejran.

Despite the growth of the Roman Empire eastward in the days of Pompey, the Arabs of Syria and Palmyra retained their independence and resisted all encroachment. Under Odenathus the Palmyrene kingdom flourished, and reached the zenith of its power under his wife and successor, the celebrated Zenobia. She was defeated by Aurelian, and Palmyra and its dependencies became a province of the Roman Empire. It is natural therefore to expect that Christianity was introduced into this region at an early period. Such was the case. Agbarus, so celebrated in the annals of the early church, was a prince of the territory of Edessa and Christianity had made some progress in the desert in the time of Arnobius.[125] Bishops of Bostra, in Northwest Arabia (not to be confounded with Busrah), are mentioned as having been present at the Nicene council (325 A.D.) with five other Arabian bishops.[126] The Arabian historians speak of the tribe of Ghassan as attached to the Christian faith centuries before the Hegira. It was of this tribe that the proverb became current: “They were lords in the days of ignorance and stars of Islam.” They held sway over the desert east of Palestine and of Southern Syria. The name of Mavia or Muaviah is mentioned by ecclesiastical writers as an Arab queen who was converted to the faith and in consequence formed an alliance with the emperor and accepted a Christian Bishop, named Moses, ordained by the primate of Alexandria. Her conversion took place about A.D. 372. Thus we find that the progress of Christianity increased in proportion as the Arabs became more intimately connected with the Romans.

An unfortunate circumstance for the progress of Christianity in North Arabia was its location between the rival powers of Rome and Persia. It was a sort of buffer-state and suffered from both sides. The Persian monarchs persecuted the Christian Arabs and one of their Arab allies, a pagan, called Naaman, forbade all intercourse with Christians, on the part of his subjects. This edict we are told[127] was occasioned by the success of the example and preaching of Simeon Stylites, the pillar saint, celebrated in Tennyson’s picture-poem. This desert-friar who was himself an Arab by birth, was a preacher after the heart of the stern, austere, half-starved Bedouin. His fame spread even into far-off Arabia Felix.[128] The stern edict of Naaman was withdrawn, however, and he himself was only prevented from embracing the faith by his fear of the Persian king.

Among the first monks to preach to the nomad tribes was Euthymius who seems to have been a medical missionary working miracles of healing among the ignorant Bedouins. One of the converted Arabs, Aspebetus, took the name of Peter, was “consecrated” by Juvenal, patriarch of Jerusalem, and became the first bishop of the tribes in the neighborhood of Southern Palestine.

The progress or even the existence of Christianity in the kingdom of Hirah seems to have been always uncertain as it was dependent on the favor of the Khosroes of Persia. Some of the Arabs at Hirah and Kufa were Christian as early as 380 A.D. One of the early converts, Noman abu Kamus, proved the sincerity of his faith by melting down a golden statue of the Arabian Venus, worshipped by his tribe, and by distributing the proceeds among the poor. Many of the tribe followed his example and were baptized.[129] To understand the importance of this spread of Christianity in North Arabia we must remember that this was the age of caravans and not of navigation. Palmyra, the centre of the trade from the Persian Gulf, owed its importance and power to the trans-Arabian traffic with Persia and the East. Irak and Mesopotamia were then a part of Arabia and were ruled by Arabian dynasties.

It was in Southwestern Arabia, however, that Christianity exerted even greater power and made still larger conquests. We cannot but wish that the story of its success, trials and extinction had been given us in some purer form with more of the gospel and less of ecclesiasticism. Had that early Christianity been gold instead of glitter it would not have perished so easily in the furnace of persecution or disappeared so utterly before the tornado-blast of Islam.

The picture of the Christian church of this period (323-692 A.D.) as drawn by faithful historians is dark indeed. “More and more the church became assimilated and conformed to the world, church discipline grew lax, and moral decay made rapid progress. Passionate contentions, quarrels and schisms among bishops and clergy filled also public life with party-strife, animosity and bitterness. The immorality of the court poisoned the capital and the provinces. Savagery and licentiousness grew rampant.... Hypocrisy and bigotry took the place of piety among those who strove after something higher, while the masses consoled themselves with the reflection that every man could not be a monk.... The shady side of this period is dark enough but a bright side and noble personages of deep piety, moral earnestness, resolute denial of self and the world are certainly not wanting.”[130] Not only was religious life at a low level in all parts of christendom but heresies were continually springing up to disturb the peace or to introduce gigantic errors. Arabia was at one time called “the mother of heresies.” The most flagrant example was that of the Collyridians, in the fourth century, which consisted in a heathenish distortion of mariolatry. Cakes were offered to the Holy Virgin, as in heathen times to Ceres.

At what time Christianity was first introduced into Arabia Felix is uncertain. This part of Arabia was in a measure shut off from the world of the Romans until the expedition of Ælius Gallus. Before the coming of Christianity the Yemenites were either idolaters or Sabeans. The large numbers of Jews in Yemen was an additional obstacle to the early spread of the faith as they were always bitterly hostile to the missionaries. The legend that St. Bartholomew preached in Yemen on his way to India need not be considered; nor the more probable one of Frumentius and his success as first bishop to Himyar. In the reign of Constantius, Theophilus, the deacon of Nicomedia, a zealous Arian, was sent by the emperor to attend a magnificent embassy to the court of Himyar and is said to have prevailed on the Arabian king to embrace Christianity. He built three churches in different parts of Yemen, at Zaphar, Aden and Sana, as well as at Hormuz in the Persian Gulf. No less than four bishoprics were established and the tribes of Rabia Ghassan, and Kodaa were won to the faith. Ibn Khalikan, the Arabian historian, enumerates as Christian tribes, the Bahrah, Tanoukh and Taglab. In Nejran, north of Sana, and Yathrib there were also Christians.

Arabian idolatry was very tolerant and afforded throughout the third and fourth centuries an equally safe asylum to the persecuted Zoroastrians, Jews and Christians who settled in various parts of the Peninsula. The kings of Himyar were themselves idolaters but allowed every other sect great freedom, including the Christians. But no sooner did the followers of Judaism gain power than persecution began. About the year 560, Dzu Nowass, ruler of Himyar, revolted against his lord the Abyssinian king, Elesbaan, and, instigated by the Jews, began to persecute the Christians. All who refused to renounce their faith were put to death without respect of age or sex, and the villages of Nejran were given over to plunder. Large pits were dug, filled with fuel, and many thousands of monks and virgins were committed to the flames.

Speedy punishment, however, overtook Dzu Nowass when the Abyssinian hosts invaded Yemen. The Christian conquerors avenged the massacre on its perpetrators, the Jews, with heathen fury. The whole fertile tract was once more a scene of bloodshed and devastation. The churches built before the days of Dzu Nowass were again rebuilt on the site of their ruins and new bishops were appointed in place of the martyrs. A short, though desperate, civil war, resulting in the proclamation of Abraha as king of Yemen, did not disturb the steady growth of Christianity. Paying tribute only to the Abyssinian crown, and at peace with all the Arab tribes, Abraha was loved for his justice and moderation by all his subjects and idolized by the Christians for his burning zeal in their religion. Large numbers of Jews, convinced by a public dispute and a miracle at Dhafar, were baptized. Many idolaters were added to the church; new schemes of benevolence were inaugurated; the foundations were being laid for a magnificent cathedral at Sana; in short Christian Yemen seemed at the dawn of its Golden Age in the year 567 A.D.

What delayed its coming and how did the power of Abraha lose its prestige? The story is gleaned from Moslem and Christian writers; it is the last sad chapter in the short history of early Christianity in Arabia and the preface to the chronicles of Islam. So important is it considered that the synopsis of it is embodied in the Koran for the perpetual delight of Moslems. (Surah of the Elephant.)

In the early fall of the year 568, the caravans of Arabs, which came along the level road leading from Rhoda, bordered with rich vineyards and fig-orchards, stopped, on entering Sana, because of a crowd that stood gazing at a large piece of parchment nailed on the side wall of the entrance to the city. It was a royal proclamation written in large Himyaritic letters. A townsman in the long dress of a public teacher stood before it and read aloud to the motley crowd that paused as they came to morning market from the neighboring villages. Stately camels, bearing huge loads of dates, were urged by their drivers, who good-humoredly exchanged greetings with their Christian brethren; donkeys, nearly hidden between baskets of luscious grapes, jostled a group of Jewish money-changers sitting in the gate; a score of women, dark-eyed and in picturesque peasant dress, were carrying their empty gerbies to the wells—but one and all moved with curiosity, stood for a moment to listen.

The presbyter, for such he was, read as follows:

“I, Ibraha, by the grace of God and Jesus Christ our Saviour, king of Yemen, taking counsel and advice of the good Gregentius, bishop of Dhafar, and having completed the building of the cathedral to the glory of God and in memory of our victory over the idolaters, do now and hereby proclaim that all the Arab tribes who annually visit the heathen shrine at Mecca, are expected to cease going thither and to come with their caravans of merchandise to worship the true God, on a shorter and more convenient journey to our magnificent church at Sana, the capital, on penalty of a levy to be put by me on all caravans of tribes that refuse to obey this proclamation. And be it furthermore known to all the tribes of Koreish....” The reader was rudely interrupted by a party of Bedouin who drove their dromedaries right through the gate and up the street with such fury that some of the crowd barely escaped being run over.

“It is a troop of those accursed Kenanehs,” said Ibn Choza to his companion. “They were born without manners—wild asses of the desert.” “Yes,” answered the other; “and who insult our good king with their nickname of El Ashram,—the split nosed,—because of the scar that remains since his encounter with the heathen Aryat.” “If such as these, Abood, do not obey this latest order from our Christian king, we’ll try the spears of my Modarites, and then woe betide their caravans of semn and their fertile palms. Not all the three hundred gods of the Kaabeh could save them from the righteous wrath of Abraha.”

The new cathedral, whose ruined foundations yet testify as to its size and solidity, had been completed for some months, and on the morrow the good bishop was expected from Dhafar to preach to the crowds that thronged Yemen’s capital at the feast. This year more strangers than ever before crowded the markets; many were come, in obedience to the proclamation, even from distant Yathrib and from beyond Nejran, to engage in commerce and religion at once,—the universal custom of the Arabs. The autumn rains were over and a fresh breeze from Jebel Nokum increased the cold, felt by such strangers especially, as came for the first time from the hot coast to an elevation of 9,000 feet.

Night fell on the towers and palaces of Sana, and there was no light in the streets except that of stars shining with northern brilliancy from between drifting clouds. Just before midnight, a solitary Arab hurried along one of the narrow paths, too narrow to be called a street, which led from the caravanseri to the church. His face and form were wrapped in a long sheepskin cloak, but his erect bearing, vigorous step, and the carved silver handle of the curved dagger, half hidden in his belt, betrayed one of the Kenaneh tribe. Stealthily looking around, he stopped before one of the windows of the cathedral; lifted himself to the granite ledge, dextrously used his dagger to remove one of the large panes of talc-stone (still used in all Sana), and jumped inside. He lingered only a few moments, came out as he went in, and hurried off toward the way of the North gate.

On the morrow a cry arose from the early worshippers, carried on the lips of every Christian in Sana, till it echoed through market and street: “Abraha’s church has been defiled! Dung is on the altar, and the holy cross is smeared with ordure! ’Tis the work of the accursed Kenaneh—the signal of revolt for the idolaters of the North!” There was tumult in Sana. In vain Gregentius endeavored to quiet the populace by his eloquence. Adding fuel to the flame, came the news on the same day of the defeat of the Modarites and the death of Ibn Choza, whom the king had sent on an expedition to a rebellious tribe in Wady Dauasir. Abraha’s wrath was doubly inflamed by the profanation of his church and the death of his captain. He publicly vowed to annihilate the idolatrous Koreish, as well as the Kenaneh, and to demolish their temple at Mecca. Before nightfall that vow was the rallying-cry in the soldiers’ quarter and the toast in every Jewish wine shop of Sana.

The expedition was soon on its way. Abraha rode foremost, seated on his milk-white elephant, caparisoned with plates of gold. On his head was a linen cap covered with gold embroidery, and from which descended four chains. He wore a loose tunic covered with pearls and Yemen akeek stone, over his usual dress; while his muscular arms and short neck were almost hidden with bracelets and chains of gold in the Abyssinian pattern; for arms he had a shield and spears. After him came a band of musicians, and then the nobles and warriors, under command of the valiant Kais. Than him no better leader could have been chosen. Mourning the untimely death of his brother, Ibn Choza, slain by the treacherous arrow of Orwa, he sought a personal revenge even more than the honor of his religion and his king, and was prepared to risk all in fulfillment of the expedition. The army, increased by volunteers at every village on their route, by forced marches over two hundred miles of mountain road, reached Jebel Orra, weary and footsore. What is only a usual journey to the Bedouin of the North, was a succession of hardships to the Yemen troops, accustomed as they were to mountain air, plenty of water and the rich fertility of their native valleys. No less did the herd of elephants suffer from the fatigue of distance and the scarcity of pasturage and water. Every day the advance was made with increasing difficulty.

Meanwhile the Koreish had not been idle. Rumor never runs faster than in the desert. All those who loved Mecca, that oldest historic centre of all Western Arabia, rallied to the standard of the Koreish. It was the Kaaba, with its three hundred and sixty idols, against the Cross. No sooner was Abraha’s approach known, than Dzu Neffer, Ibn Habib and other chiefs at the head of the tribes of Hamedan and Chethamah gathered to oppose the advance. A desperate conflict followed, but the camels were frightened at the sight of the elephants, nor could the desert Arabs withstand an assault of such large numbers.

The news of defeat struck the Koreish with the greatest consternation, and Abd-ul-Mutalib, grandfather of the future prophet, who was guardian of the Kaaba, took council with all the chiefs of the allies. A swift messenger was sent to Abraha offering a third part of the wealth of all Hejaz as a ransom for the sacred Beit Ullah. The king, however, was inflexible, and his followers cried: “Vengeance for the desecrated Cross in our sanctuary! No ransom from the idolaters! Down with the Kaaba!” Finally Abd-ul-Mutalib himself came to seek audience. He was admitted to Abraha’s presence and honored with a seat by his side; but Arab tradition says he came only to ask about the loss of some camels, and told Abraha that the Lord of the Kaaba would defend it himself! (Such sublime faith does Moslem tradition put into the mouth of the prophet’s ancestors, even though the anachronism proves its falsehood.)

On the following day Kais led the advance through the narrow valley that leads into the city. Here a grievous surprise awaited the host of The Elephant. To supplement the faith of Abd-ul-Mutalib, the Arabs laid in ambush, and before day-dawn every one of the Koreish had occupied his place on the heights on either side of the pass, hidden behind the rough masses of boulder and trap that to this day make the whole hillside a natural battery. No sooner had the elephants and their riders entered the defile, than a shower of rocks and stones was incessantly poured upon them by their assailants. The unwieldly animals, mad with fright and pain, trampled the wounded to death, and confusion was followed by headlong flight, although the unequal contest lasted until sunset. It was the ThermopylÆ of Arabian idolatry, forever after celebrated in the Koran chapter of The Elephant. The battle affords a miracle, however, to the Moslem commentator by the easy change of a vowel, which makes “miraculous birds” with hell-stones in their beaks God’s avengers, instead of the “camel-troops” of the Koreish. Two months after the victory that prophet was born whose character and career sealed the fate of early Christianity in Arabia, already decided on the fatal day when Abraha mounted his elephant and left Sana for revenge.

The division of the Northern tribes between the Persians and Romans, followed by the defeat of the Yemen hosts, brought anarchy to all central Arabia. The idolaters of Hirah and Ghassan overran the south, and the weak reign of Yeksoum, son of Abraha, could not stay the decay of the Christian state. Even the Persian protectorate only delayed its final fall. The sudden rise of Islam, with its political and social preponderance, consummated the blow. “With the death of Mohammed,” says Wright, “the last sparks of Christianity in Arabia were extinguished, and it may be reasonably doubted whether any Christians were then left in the whole peninsula.”[131]

In 1888, Edward Glaser, the explorer, visited nearly every part of Yemen and among his discoveries were many ancient inscriptions. From Mareb, the old Sabean capital, he brought back over three hundred, one of which dates from 542 A.D., and is considered by Professor Fritz Hommel the latest Sabean inscription. It consists of one hundred and thirty-six lines telling of the suppressed revolt against the Ethiopic rule then established in Yemen. The inscription opens with the words: “In the power of the All-merciful, and His Messiah and the Holy Ghost.” This and the scarcely recognizable ruins of the cathedral at Sana are the only remnants of Christianity that remain in Arabia Felix.