Contents
« Prev | Chapter XXII. Ignatius of Antioch. | Next » |
CHAPTER XXII.
IGNATIUS OF ANTIOCH.
Antioch had its part, and a very violent one, in those cruel measures which proved to be so absolutely inefficacious. The Church of Antioch, or, at least, the fraction of that Church which attached itself to St Paul, had at this moment a chief, regarded with the most profound respect, who was called Ignatius. This name is probably the Latin equivalent of the Syriac name Nourana. The reputation of Ignatius had spread through all the Churches, especially in Asia Minor. Under circumstances which are unknown to us, probably as the result of some popular movement, he was arrested, condemned to death, and, as he was not a Roman citizen, ordered to be taken to Rome to be delivered to the beasts in the amphitheatre. For that fate the noblest victims were reserved, men worthy to be shown to the Roman people. The journey of this courageous confessor from Antioch to Rome along the coasts of Asia, Macedonia, and Greece was a sort of triumphal progress. The Churches of the cities at which he touched flocked around him, asking for his counsels. He, on his part, wrote letters full of instruction, to which his position, like that of St Paul, prisoner of Jesus Christ, gave the highest authority. At Smyrna, in particular, Ignatius found himself in communication with all the Churches of Asia. Polycarp, Bishop of Smyrna, saw him, and retained a profound memory of him. Ignatius had from that place an extensive correspondence: his letters were received with almost as such respect as the apostolic writings. Surrounded by couriers of a sacred character, who came and went, he was more like a powerful personage than a prisoner. The spectacle impressed the very 250Pagans, and served as the foundation for a curious romance which has been handed down to us.
Almost the whole of the authentic epistles of Ignatius appear to have been lost. Those which we possess under his name addressed to the Ephesians, to the Magnesian, to the Tralliens, to the Philadelphians, to the Smyrniotes, to Polycarp, are apocryphal. The four first were written from Smyrna; the two last from Alexandria-Troas. The six works are more or less feeble reproductions of the same original. Genius and individuality are absolutely wanting. But it appears that amongst the letters which Ignatius wrote from Smyrna, there was one addressed to the faithful at Rome, after the manner of St Paul. This piece, such as we have it, impressed all ecclesiastical antiquity. Irenæus, Origen, and Eusebius cite it and admire it. Its style has a harsh and pronounced flavour, something strong and popular; pleasantry is pushed even to playing upon words; as a matter of taste, certain points are urged with a shocking exaggeration, but the liveliest faith, the most ardent thirst for death, have never inspired such passionate accents. The enthusiasm of the martyr who for six hundred years was the dominant spirit of Christendom, has received from the author of this extraordinary fragment, whoever he may be, its most exalted expressions.
After many prayers I am permitted to see your holy faces; I have even obtained more than I asked; for if God give me grace to endure to the end, I hope that I shall embrace you as the prisoner of Jesus Christ. The business has begun well, seeing that nothing prevents me from awaiting the lot which has been appointed to me. Verily it is for you that I am concerned. I fear lest your affection should be hurtful to me. You would risk nothing, but I should lose God himself if you succeed in saving me . . . Never again shall I find such an opportunity, and you, if you will have the charity to remain quiet, never will you have taken part in a better work. If you keep silence, in short, I shall belong to God; if you love my flesh, 1 shall again be cast into the conflict. Let me suffer whilst 251the altar is ready, so that, united in chorus by love, you may sing to the Father in Christ Jesus,—“Oh, great goodness of God who hath deigned to bring the Bishop of Syria from the rising to the going down of the sun!” It is good to lie down from the world with God that we may rise with him.
You have never done evil to any; why then begin to-day? You have been masters to so many others! I ask but one thing; do what you teach, what you prescribe. Ask only for me strength from within and from without, so that I may be not only called Christian but really a Christian, when I shall have passed away from this world. Nothing that is visible is good. What thou seest is temporal. What thou seest not is eternal. Our God, Jesus Christ, existing in his father, appears no more. Christianity is not only a work of silence; it becomes a work of splendour when it is hated of the world.
I write to the Churches: I inform all that I am assured of dying for God, if you do not prevent me. I beg you not to prove yourselves by your intemperate goodness my worst enemies. Let me be the food of beasts, thanks to whom it shall be given me to enjoy God; I am the wheat of God, I must be ground by the teeth of beasts that I may be found the pure bread of Christ. Rejoice therefore that they shall be my tomb, and that nothing shall be left of my body, that my funeral shall thus cost no man aught. Then shall I be truly the disciple of Christ, when the world shall see my body no more.
From Syria to Rome, upon land, upon sea, by day and by night, I fight already against the beasts, chained as I am to ten leopards (I speak of the soldiers who guard me, and who show themselves the more cruel the more good is done to them). Thanks to their ill-treatment, I am formed, “but I am not thereby justified.” I shall gain, I assure you, when I find myself face to face with the beasts which await me. I hope to meet them in good temper; if needs be, I will caress them with my hands, that they may devour me alone, and that they may not, as they have done to some, show themselves afraid to touch me. If they do it unwillingly, I will force them.
Forgive me. I know which is best for me. It is now that I begin to be a true disciple. No! no power, visible or invisible, shall prevent me from rejoicing in Jesus Christ. Fire and cross; troops of beasts; broken bones; limbs lopped off; crushing of the whole body, all the punishments of the devil, may fall upon me, if only I may rejoice in Jesus Christ . . . My love has been crucified, and there is no longer in me ardour for the material part; there is within me only a living water which murmurs and says to me, “Come to the Father.” I take pleasure no longer in corruptible food, nor in the joys of this life. I desire the bread of God, the bread of life, which is the flesh of Jesus 252Christ, the Son of God, born in the end of time, of the race of David, and of Abraham; and I desire to drink his blood, which is incorruptible love and life eternal.
Sixty years after the death of Ignatius, the characteristic phrase of this fragment, “I am the wheat of God,” was traditional in the Church, and was repeated to sustain the courage of martyrs. Perhaps this was a matter of oral tradition; perhaps also the letter is authentic at bottom—I mean as to those energetic phrases by which Ignatius expressed his desire to suffer, and his love for Jesus. In the authentic narrative of the martyrdom of Polycarp (155), there are, it would appear, allusions to the very text of that Epistle to the Romans which we now possess. Ignatius becomes thus the great master of martyrdom, the exciter to enthusiasm for death for Jesus. His letters, true or superstitious, were the collection from which might be drawn striking expressions and exalted sentiments. The deacon Stephen had by his heroism sanctified the Diaconate and the ecclesiastical ministries; with still great splendour the Bishop of Antioch surrounded with an aureole, the functions of the Episcopate. It was not without reason that writings were attributed to him in which those functions were hyperbolically depicted. Ignatius was really the patron saint of the Episcopate, the creator of the privilege of the chiefs of the Church, the first victim of their redoubtable duties.
The most curious thing is that this history, told more recently by one of the most intelligent writers of the age by Lucian, inspired him with the principal features of his little picture of manners, entitled “Of the Death of Peregrinus.” It is scarcely to be doubted that Lucian borrowed from the narratives of Ignatius the passages in which he represents his charlatan playing the part of Bishop and Confessor, chained in Syria, shipped for Italy, surrounded by the faithful with cares and attentions, receiving from all parts 253deputations of ministers sent to console him. Peregrinus, like Ignatius, addresses from his captivity to the celebrated towns which he finds upon his way, letters full of counsels and of exhortations that they should observe the laws; he institutes, in view of these messages, missions clothed with a religious character; finally he appears before the Emperor, and defies his power, with an audacity which Lucian finds impertinent, but which the admirers of the fanatic represent as a movement of holy liberty.
In the Church the memory of Ignatius was especially exalted by the partisans of St Paul. To have seen Ignatius was a favour almost as great as to have seen St Paul. The high authority of the martyr was one of the reasons which contributed to the success of this group, whose right to exist in the Church of Jesus was still so greatly contested. Towards the year 170, a disciple of St Paul, zealous for the establishment of episcopal authority, conceived the project, in imitation of the pastoral epistles attributed to the Apostle, of composing, under the name of Ignatius, a series of epistles designed to inculcate an anti-Jewish conception of Christianity, as well as ideas of strict hierarchy and Catholic orthodoxy in opposition to the errors of the Docetists and of certain Gnostic sects. These writings, which it was desired should be regarded as having been collected by Polycarp, were accepted with enthusiasm, and had in the constitution of discipline and dogma a commanding influence.
By the side of Ignatius we may see, in the oldest documents, two persons figure who appear to have been associated with him, Zozimus and Rufus. Ignatius does not appear to have had travelling companions; Zozimus and Rufus were perhaps persons well known in the ecclesiastical circles of Greece and of Asia, and recommended by their high devotion to the Church of Christ.
About the same time another martyr may have 254suffered, to whom his title of head of the Church of Jerusalem and his relationship with Jesus gave great notoriety. I mean Simeon, son, or rather great-grandson, of Cleophas. The opinion decided amongst the Christians, and probably accepted by those around them, according to which Jesus had been of the race of David, attributed this title to all his blood-relations. Now in the state of effervescence in which Palestine was, such a title could not be borne without risk. Already under Domitian we have seen the Roman authority entertain apprehensions apropos of the pretensions avowed by the sons of Jude. Under Trajan the same disquietude came to light. The descendants of Cleophas, who presided over the Church of Jerusalem, were too modest to boast much of a descent which non-Christians might perhaps have disputed, but they could not hide it from the affiliated of the Church of Jesus; from those heretics—Ebionites, Essenes, Elkasaïtes—some of whom were hardly Christians. A denunciation was addressed by some of those sectaries to the Roman authority, and Simeon, son of Cleophas, was brought to judgment. The Consular Legate of Judea at this moment was Tiberius Claudius Atticus, who appears to have been the father of the celebrated Herod Atticus. He was an obscure Athenian, whom the discovery of an immense treasure had suddenly enriched, and who by his fortune had succeeded in obtaining the title of surrogate consul. He showed himself, in the circumstances of this case, extremely cruel. During many days he tortured the unhappy Simeon, without doubt to force him to reveal pretended secrets. Atticus and his assessors admired his courage, but he finished by crucifying him. Hegesippus, from whom we have these details, assures us that the accusers of Simeon were themselves convinced that they were of the race of David, and perished with him. We ought not to be too much surprised by such denunciations. We have already 255seen that the internal rivalries of the Jewish and Christian sects had the greatest share in the persecution of the year 64, or at least in the deaths of the Apostles Peter and Paul.
Rome at that period appears to have had no martyrs. Among the Presbyteri and Episcopi who governed that capital Church are reckoned Evarestes, Alexander, and Xystus, who appear to have died in peace.
« Prev | Chapter XXII. Ignatius of Antioch. | Next » |