Survey of Church History

Survey of Church History CH505 LESSON 06 of 24 Garth M. Rosell, Ph.D. Professor of Church History and Director Emeritus of the Ockenga Institute at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary in South Hamilton, Massachusetts Join me if you would in prayer as we come to our study together today. Let us pray. Eternal God, we ask that You would guide us by Your Spirit, that all that we think and all that we say together would be honoring to You. For it s in the name of Christ that we pray. Amen. I d like for you to think with me today about the nature of discipleship. What does it mean to be a disciple of Jesus Christ? What does it take to be a follower of the Master? What is actually involved in Christian discipleship? Well this is a question which has been asked and answered in virtually every era of the church s history. In the beginning, of course, Christ chose the original disciples: Matthew, Peter, John, and the others, who came to be known as apostles. Apostles were those who had seen the risen Christ, as we learn in Luke 24:28. They were those who had received Christ s mandate to give witness to Christ s resurrection. Disciples in the early years of the church came to signify those who were followers of Christ. Those who had responded positively to Christ s call to discipleship, as we hear it in Mark 2:14, which is the request Follow me. And you have throughout the New Testament documents the use of matheton, a term used some 250 particularly in the Acts and the Gospels. It was simply one who was a follower of Christ, a part of the family. So the disciples were those who were followers of Christ of whatever stripe, of whatever condition. Gradually, however, discipleship came to mean some higher form of commitment of Christian life life on a higher plain, a deeper Christian life, a wider experience in the faith. And several paths tended to emerge which were paths to this special kind of discipleship. The earliest of these was the path of martyrdom which dominated people s thinking in the first three centuries (and to which we want to turn our attention in a moment). Later, following the third century, monasticism came to be one of the responses to this issue of discipleship; and later in the Middles Ages, mysticism and then scholasticism. And we ll talk 1 of 13

about all of these later on in the course as ways of defining and moving toward this process of discipleship. Today however, I want to focus our attention on the growing persecution of the church and the pattern of martyrdom which helped to define the nature of discipleship and which gave it a whole new understanding and meaning. During the nearly three centuries from the founding of the church to the time of Constantine, the Christian community experienced persecution sporadic to be sure, but at times fierce and enormously painful. Christ had, of course, predicted such times of fiery trial: Behold I send you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves But beware of men: for they will deliver you up to councils, and in their synagogues they will scourge you; Yea and before governors and kings shall you be brought in my sake, for a testimony to them and to the Gentiles And brother shall deliver up brother to death, and the Father his child: and children shall rise up against parents, and cause them to be put to death. And ye shall be hated of all for My name s sake: but he that endureth to the end, the same shall be saved (Matthew 10:16-18; 10:21-22). Remember those powerful scriptural words. Such persecutions came quickly, first from the Jewish community and later from the Gentile community. Since the fifth century, it s been customary to list 10 great persecutions and some of you have perhaps read these in various texts: the first under Nero (AD 54-68); the second under Domitian (AD 81-96); then Trajan (AD 98-117); Marcus Aurelius (AD 161-180); and Septimius Severus (AD 193-211); and Maximus (AD 235-237); and Decius (AD 249-251); and Valerian (AD 256-259); and Aurelian (AD 270-275); and Diocletian (AD 284-305). Now the number 10 is significant. Many early Christians saw parallels with the 10 Plagues of Egypt or the 10 Horns of the Roman Beast in Revelation those who made war with the Lamb. This symbolism, of course, is interesting. But unfortunately, the history is weak. The list of 10 is too great for general or empire-wide persecutions and too few for the local ones. The reality is that persecutions broke out sporadically in different parts of the Roman Empire, sometimes very fierce and other times were eras of toleration. There were only two genuine empire-wide persecutions the first of these came under Decius, 2 of 13

from AD 245-251, and the second under Diocletian, from AD 284-305. These were indeed empire-wide persecutions. Even though Christianity was an illegal religion, from the time of Trajan in the late first century up to the time of Constantine, persecution actually varied in practice. Some of the persecuting emperors, in fact, were real tyrants (like Nero and Domitian). Others were, however, among the best of the emperors (folk like Trajan, Marcus Aurelius, Decius, and even Diocletian). These last ones were prompted not so much by hatred for Christians, as for a zeal to maintain law and order in the empire which was rapidly breaking down as the centuries passed. In fact, some of the most worthless emperors were the ones that were most favorable to Christians (people like Commodus and Caracalla and others). And they had their own reasons for taking that action. We find then the movement back and forth from peace to persecution to peace to persecution, so that Christians were never quite certain when they were going to come under the attacks from the outside, from whatever quarters. We do have these two genuine persecutions, however, empire-wide under Decius and Diocletian. Let me say just a word about those and the nature of those persecutions. Under Decius, at the middle of the third century AD, there was adopted a policy of one empire and one religion. Christianity, therefore, must go! Not only were Christians to be individually punished, as had been very normal before, but Christianity itself was to be crushed. And we see that in the Edict of AD 250, where everyone in the Empire was required to sacrifice to the state gods (these heathen gods) and get a certificate that they had actually done so. Now of course, many Christians complied and renounced their faith (and this became an enormous problem for the church as to how to handle those who had denied the faith under persecution should they be readmitted or shouldn t they? And this was an ongoing debate which we ll pick up later on). Others like Fabian (the bishop of Rome) and Origen (a biblical scholar) and many additional ones were martyred when they refused to comply with this Edict of 250. Later on, an edict was promulgated which forbade Christians to hold ordinary meetings and worship. And then an additional edict codified the penalties: (1) the clergy were to suffer death if they were convicted, (2) senators and knights would be degraded from their rank if they were found to be Christians, and (3) imperial employees would be sent to forced labor camps. 3 of 13

Now this series of actions put the screws on Christians and became a matter of enormous difficulty for the Christian community. This was picked up again under Diocletian in a series of actions which almost replicated those which had come under the Decian Era. So Christians were, in various places and in different periods of time, severely persecuted because they were Christians. And those persecutions then began to define one of the elements of the nature of discipleship, for under persecution many of them faced the prospect and ultimately the reality of death. Now persecutions came to the Christians from various directions. The two primary sources were in the Jewish community itself, with a growing hostility between Christians and Jews; and within the Roman government, which was the more general persecution. Let me say just a brief word about Jewish persecution. From the earliest years, the Christian church was persecuted by the Jewish community. We see that described not only in the biblical materials but in many of the early Christian writings. Even the destruction of the temple in AD 70 didn t end this hostility. And you see that reflected in the martyrdom of Polycarp (which we ll come back to later) and in the Jewish insurrection called Bar- Kochba after this interesting figure who led a rebellion against Rome in AD 132-135. Christians were called upon to join in the cause, and many of them refused to and because of that, were put under great persecution. It s interesting to note as well that when Christians came into prominence and, in fact, gained control in the fourth century under Constantine and his successors, they turned around and put the same kind of pressure upon the Jewish community. So that one of the sad parts of the stories of church history is this growing tension and animosity between the Jewish community (out of which Christianity came and to which it owes such a great debt) and the Christian community. And we know that all too well in the devastations of the Holocaust and some of the struggles which have continued on between Jews and Christians. Happily in our day, we are beginning to see the openness toward genuine dialogue and discussion, one with the other. And we ought to rejoice in that openness and that friendly dialogue which has begun to emerge in more recent times. The greater persecution, however, came not from the Jewish community but from the state, from the Roman government itself. Now ironically, the general policy of the Roman government was 4 of 13

that of tolerance. There was little censorship. Education was left to the agreement between teachers and students. Armies were on the frontier largely for protection not at home for repression. The basic policy was that those who were conquered by Rome would be tolerated along with their religious practices, unless they interfered with the state. In fact, the persecution of Christians began to emerge out of a perception that Christianity was a threat to the state; and in fact, a threat to the civil religion of the state and ultimately to the economic stability of the Roman Empire itself. Let me try to describe a little bit of this to you. Many came to see Christianity as a danger to the order of the state because Christians seemed to be so uncooperative. Christianity was often seen as a kind of conspiracy against the state because Christians regularly refused to pay divine honor to the emperor and to his statue. They often refused to participate in, what Christians considered, idolatrous ceremonies at public festivities. They had a deep aversion to military service (and I ll say more about that in a bit). And they had a real disregard for politics. Common people, moreover, who had worshiped polytheistic gods, saw Christian monotheism as a threat to them and to their religious practices. They began to spread rumors, in fact, that Christians were guilty of atheism, cannibalism, and incest. Now it s fascinating to think of that, and we see that reflected in our little collection of writings from Cyril Richardson. If you want to turn in that volume to Athenagoras Plea, you have Athenagoras (who was a philosopher from Athens) writing in the late second century, about AD 176 or 177. And if you turn to page 334 and following, you ll see Athenagoras arguing with these folk that Christianity is neither atheistic, cannibalistic, or incestuous. Now let s look at a couple of these, because they re kind of intriguing. Why would you imagine that Christians would be accused of cannibalism? Well if you think back to the practice of the Lord s Supper, you have the eating of the body and the drinking of the blood of our Lord. And many on the outside looked at that as a rather strange practice and, in fact, what appeared to them to be a cannibalistic practice. Furthermore, charges are brought against Christians because they re atheistic. Not that they don t believe in their own Christian God, but the fact that they don t believe in the pagan state gods which were part of public ceremony and part of normal living in the communities in the Roman Empire. One of the most interesting of the accusations is that the Christians are guilty of incest. Athenagoras writes on page 336 5 of 13

and following: It is nothing surprising that our accusers should invent the same tales about us that they tell of their own gods. They present their sufferings as mysteries. And had they wanted to judge shameless and indiscriminate intercourse as a frightful thing, they should have hated Zeus, for he had children from his mother Rhea and his daughter Koré and married his own sister. [He talks essentially about some of these practices of the old mythology which they re following and then add this interesting paragraph]. But we as Christians, on the contrary, are so far from viewing such crimes with indifference that we are not even allowed to indulge a lustful glance. For the Scripture says, He who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart. We feel it is a matter of great importance that those whom we think thus as brothers and sisters and so on should keep their bodies undefiled and uncorrupted. For the Scripture says, again, If anyone kisses a second time because he found it enjoyable, he is guilty of sin. Thus the kiss, or rather the religious salutation, should be very carefully guarded for it is defiled by even the slightest evil thought. And this excludes us from eternal life. Then it goes on to talk about marriage, about the Christian s enormous aversion to prostitution, to homosexuality, to abortion and the readings of this (and some of you will want to look through that in more detail) are very detailed; and in fact, very contemporary in their sound. Because what he s arguing is that Christians are committed to holy living and that the charges of incest are absurd. Certainly the charges of cannibalism and atheism are absurd. And in fact, Athenagoras takes great pains to argue to those contemporaries the true nature of Christianity and its allegiance to holiness and to righteous living. In North Africa, a proverb arose: If God does not send rain, blame it on the Christians. And in other places: Away with the atheists, to the lions with the Christians. The charges came again and again. And Christians found themselves having to defend the faith against even these remarkable attacks and accusations. Furthermore, there were a good many in the empire which considered Christianity a threat to its economic stability. 6 of 13

Priests, merchants, jugglers, all of those who made their living from idolatrous worship felt that their very living was being undermined by Christian growth and the spread of the faith, which was drawing people away from those idolatrous practices and which was undermining their living. So for these reasons, and perhaps a good many more, there grew up an attitude of animosity toward the Christian community. And this helped to prompt from place to place, and in various times, severe persecutions against the Christians. Now it s interesting to look at the accounts of some of these early martyrs, those who suffered as a result of this persecution. And I want to look with you at three accounts of martyrdom: (1) Ignatius, (2) Polycarp, and (3) Perpetua and Felicitas. These three will give us some flavor of the nature of martyrdom and how it came to be understood increasingly as a means of discipleship. Take our Cyril Richardson collection once again, if you re following along in your books, and turn to page 103. This is Ignatius Letter to the Romans. Now Ignatius, you will recall, was the leader of the church in Antioch at the beginning of the second century. He s writing the letter in AD 117. And he is currently chained to a series of Roman soldiers and is being hauled across Asia Minor to meet his death before the lions in Rome. Now while he is being carried across Asia Minor, he writes a series of seven remarkable letters (I ve read you portions of those before, but I ve not read you the sections from the Letter to the Romans). Now he s not yet been in Rome, but he s writing ahead to the Romans, and he s talking about his impending martyrdom. Now listen to him as he writes: Since God has answered my prayer to see you godly people [these are the Christians in Rome], I have gone on to ask for more. I mean it is as a prisoner for Christ Jesus that I hope to greet you, if indeed it be God s will that I should deserve to meet my end. Things are off to a good start, may I have the good fortune to meet my fate without interference. What I fear is your generosity, which may prove detrimental to me [see, what he s worried about is that the folk in Rome are going to intervene, and he ll not have his chance to be a witness for Christ through his death]. For you can easily do what you want to; whereas, it is hard for me to get to God unless you let me alone. I shall never again have 7 of 13

such a chance to get to God [you see, he s getting old and he realizes that this may be his last opportunity to give that ultimate sacrifice, indeed his own life]. But if you are enamored of my mere body, I shall on the contrary be a meaningless noise. Here he served God faithfully in leading the church in Antioch. He s been a well-revered, an able leader of the church there. He s reaching his latter years. And he s come to see martyrdom as something which is an avenue to genuine witness for Christ and to genuine discipleship. Remember Dietrich Bonhoeffer s famous phrase: When God bids you become a disciple, He bids you come and die. Then he goes on to talk about his experience as a prisoner: Even now as a prisoner I am learning to forego my own wishes. All the way from Syria to Rome I m fighting with wild beasts, by land and sea, night and day, chained as I am to 10 leopards [here he s using imagery to talk about the detachment of soldiers that has him in chains and is bringing him to Rome]. They only get worse the better I treat them. But by their injustices I m becoming a better disciple [isn t that an interesting phrase], though not for that reason am I acquitted. What a thrill I shall have from the wild beasts that are ready for me. I hope that they will make short work of me. I shall coax them on to eat me at once and not hold off as sometimes happens through fear. And if they are reluctant, I shall force them to it. Forgive me, I know what is good for me. Now is the moment I am beginning to be a disciple. May nothing seen or unseen begrudge me making my way to Jesus Christ. Come fire, cross, battling with wild beasts, wrenching of bones, mangling of limbs, crushing of my whole body, cruel tortures of the devil. Only let me get to Jesus Christ, I would rather die. And then he says later on, If when I arrive I make a different plea, pay no attention to me. Rather give heed to what I am writing to you. You see, he is afraid that by the time he gets there, he may not feel quite so brave and may ask to be let off. But his real heart and desire, his yearning, is to be a public witness for Christ. Now in listening to these words, modern day ears are very often 8 of 13

troubled because it sounds masochistic. It sounds as if he devalues life, as if he has no interest in the flesh. And you say, he certainly must be a Docetist. He must be one who devalues the fleshly nature of the creation and only wants to emphasize the spirit. But you must remember that in his other letters he writes strongly against the Docetists. And in fact, he argues for the importance of the whole person, flesh, and spirit. So he s not devaluing life. He s not devaluing flesh. What he is saying, I think, is that he deeply and passionately desires to be a disciple of Christ. And he finds martyrdom an appropriate means of trying to do that. Now we see another example in Polycarp. Polycarp is the leader of the church in Smyrna. And his martyrdom takes place a generation later in AD 155. Ignatius had died in AD 117. We see the account of Polycarp s death in our collection of readings, page 152 and following. Polycarp seems less determined to die, but he is equally determined not to deny the faith. And here you have him brought before the authorities. He is an old man, 86 years old. He s served faithfully. He s a revered leader of the church. And no one in the town wants to put him to death. But he is violating the law. And in fact, they try to get him to find some way of recanting. Let me read from the bottom of page 152, from The Martyrdom of Polycarp, this fascinating account which we have here: But the proconsul was insistent and said, Take the oath, Polycarp, and I ll release you curse Christ! Polycarp said, 86 years I have served Him and He never did me any wrong. How could I possibly blaspheme my King who saved me? And upon persisting still, the proconsul said, Swear, then, by the fortune of Caesar. Find something that you can say in order to meet our laws and save yourself from death. Polycarp said, There is no way that I can compromise and deny Christ. He s been faithful to me and I will be faithful to Him. The proconsul said, I have wild beasts, I will throw you to them if you don t change your mind. Polycarp said, Call them! For repentance from the better to the worse is not permitted us. But it is noble to change from what is evil to what is righteous. Then the proconsul said, I shall have you consumed with fire if you despise the wild beasts unless you change your mind. And Polycarp said, The fire you threaten burns but an hour and is quenched after a little for you do not know the fire of the coming judgment, an everlasting punishment that is laid up for the impious. But why 9 of 13

do you delay? Come, do what you will. So it says on page 154: They did not nail him, but tied him. And with his hands put behind him and tied like a noble ram out of a great flock ready for sacrifice, a burnt offering ready and acceptable to God. He looked up to heaven and he prayed [And it s one of the most wonderful prayers, you ll want to read that if you haven t seen that before]. And when he had concluded the Amen and finished his prayer, the men attending lighted the fire. And when the flame flashed forth, we saw a miracle. We to whom it was given to see. And we are preserved in order to relate to the rest what happened: For the fire made the shape of a vaulted chamber, like a ship s sail filled by the wind and made a wall around the body of the martyr. And he was in the midst, not as a burning flesh but as bread baking or as gold or silver refined in a furnace. And we perceived such sweet aroma as the breath of incense or some other precious spice. Isn t that an interesting description? What you have here is one who, under the pressure of the Roman Law, is asked to recant and deny his faith. But out of faithfulness to his beliefs was not able to do so, and went to his death nobly and willingly to be a public witness to the faith that had sustained him and which gave him life. The story of the martyrs, a story which goes across the whole of church history, is one of the most inspiring chapters of all of church history. For tens of thousands of men and women across the centuries have gone to death rather than deny the faith. There s something important for all of us, I think, to learn about discipleship and that willingness to die. Not the desire to die, not to be anxious to leave this life, we value and treasure life. God has taught us to value it and to use our time wisely and to treasure those moments God gives us. But there are things that are worse than death. And one of those is denying the faith that sustains us. And the great martyr tradition is a tradition of discipleship which will go to the limits in faithfulness to our God and to that which has claimed us. I read recently in the Covenant Companion, in the July issue, 1987, 10 of 13

a report from David Barrett (the statistician who is responsible for the World Christian Encyclopedia). And Barrett has suggested that an average of 330,000 Christians a year are now martyred for their faith around the world. Martyrdoms did not only happen in the first few centuries. Today perhaps there are more martyrs annually than there have been in any period of the church s past. And often we forget that, those of us who live in the relative comforts of North America. And we need to be reminded that many around the world today suffer for their faith. And in fact, they are examples to us of that ongoing martyr tradition which should inspire us and give us new hope. One additional account that I would like to at least point you to is not in the collection that we have in our text, but is included in the Ante-Nicene Fathers. I ve talked about this collection reproduced in the 1980s by Eerdmans. In volume III, you have Tertullian s account of the martyrdom of Perpetua and Felicitas these two women, who died in the early part of the third century, in AD 202 and 203, in Carthage in North Africa. The accounts of these are fascinating and you can read those on pages 699 and following. Let me just give you a little flavor of this: Perpetua was born, educated, a married matron, having a father and mother and two brothers [one of whom, like herself, was a catechumen] and she had an infant son at her breast, she herself was about 22 years of age. And it talks about: (1) her experience of being pressed by the authorities to deny her faith and her unwillingness to do so, (2) her baptism in the church, and (3) ultimately, the fact that she was thrown into prison, and (4) the fact that she had to give up her own child to her parents to care for it. And they talk about her experience in the dungeon where she was anxious at first in the darkness of that place. And then gradually, she grew strong and was relieved by God s grace from her distress and anxiety about her infant. And the dungeon became to her as it were a palace, and she preferred being there to anywhere else. And the reason for this, of course, is that she realizes that she is a public witness to her faith. And she is glad to do that even though the dungeon is a difficult and frightening place to be. Along with Perpetua is another young lady, Felicitas, who has also just given birth to a child. These two are brought into the arena, and the description is very vivid of how they are put upon by the beasts and ultimately killed by the thrust of a sword. These young ladies, young mothers, who along with accounts of these older men, Ignatius and Polycarp and others, are examples of early martyrs. They were individuals who, rather than deny the faith, 11 of 13

were willing to go to their death. Now these inspirational accounts are ones that have been picked up by the church over the centuries, celebrated and rejoiced in. We have accounts in picture form on the catacombs (those cavernous tunnels which run under many of the cities of Rome and Naples and Sicily and Alexandria and so on), where many of the early Christians were buried. On the walls and in the pictures and in the epitaphs we have the accounts of those who died in the faith, who died professing the faith and giving account of their witness publicly in this way. The frescoes which we find pictured on the walls and ceilings often have not only Christian symbols and scenes from Bible history, but also have pictures of the accounts of those martyrs. There are a variety of epitaphs which we have some 15,000 have been located from the first six centuries in Rome alone. And generally these are cheerful and hopeful. The person died in peace, live in God, live forever. God quicken the spirit. Weep not my child. Death is not eternal. Alexander is not dead [another read], but lives above the stars though his body rests in this tomb. And another: Here Gordian, the courier from Gaul, strangled for the faith, with his whole family, rests in peace. The maid-servant, Theophila, erected this. There are some beautiful accounts of those who died in the faith and who are celebrated. Now part of the difficulty of this whole practice is that many times these martyrs came to be venerated, almost worshiped, in the place of God. We have accounts of the Smyrna church, for example, who counted the bones of Polycarp more precious than gold or diamonds. The same was true for Ignatius remains by the Christians in Antioch. The friends of Cyprian gathered his blood in handkerchiefs and built a chapel over his tomb. And many came inappropriately to worship at the altars of those places where the great martyrs had died. One of the areas that we need to remind ourselves of as we look at these accounts of the martyrs, and as we think of the tens of thousands of martyrs who have died (many of their stories told by people like Foxe in his Book of Martyrs which comes out of a later period, but which is no less inspiring), is that these people are not folk who become worship substitutes for us. Worship belongs to the true God alone. And we should worship Him only. The martyrs, however, ought to inspire us to rethink our whole understanding of discipleship. What does it mean to be a follower of Christ? What does it mean to be one who identifies in this way 12 of 13

with the Master? Well it can mean faithful service certainly, but it may mean faithfulness even to death. And our willingness to open ourselves up to that possibility to ask ourselves the question: If we were pressed to either affirm or deny our faith at peril of life, would we be willing to do so? Would we follow Christ even to death? It seems to me that that question highlights an element of basic discipleship which, in our relatively easy lifestyle in the West, we have often forgotten. Christ calls us to genuine discipleship a discipleship which is absolute obedience to the faith which has claimed us and which has made us its own. So we look back to the martyrs. And later in our series we are going to be looking at: (1) the monastics, who found some different patterns for the understanding of discipleship; (2) the great mystics - the wonderful hymn writers such as Bernard of Clairvaux and others, who found yet a different path and new insights in terms of discipleship; and (3) even the scholastics with their emphasis upon the mind and the processes of thinking, who found yet another enlargement and enrichment of the nature of discipleship. We re going to find in all of these that we are pressed back to that original question with which I started this lecture: What does it mean to be a disciple of Christ? What does it mean to be a genuine follower of the Master? What is involved for us today? And as we ask ourselves that question, it seems to me that we can gain a great deal of insight by looking back at this remarkable martyr tradition; not so that we divide ourselves into levels of spirituality or substitute the martyrs for the true worship of God. We don t need worship substitutes today. What we need, it seems to me, are models of humility and strength in the face of adversity. We rightly remember and celebrate the martyrs. But we worship only the one true God, Who alone is worthy of that worship. Amen! Christ-Centered Learning Anytime, Anywhere 13 of 13