We have been reviewing the life and writings of Polycarp of Smyrna, a First and Second Century Christian and bishop, an Apostolic Father, and student of the Apostle John. In our study, we have seen that Polycarp described the Church as a hierarchical, authoritative institution which derives its teaching power from God. According to Polycarp, we owe our allegiance to the Church as we owe obedience to Christ - this despite the imperfections of the humans who make up the Church. Polycarp acknowledged that the ordained clergy sometimes fall into sin and may need to be removed from office when they are unfit to serve (he offers an example of this in the person of Valens, a presbyter in his own time who was removed for matters of personal sin). Nonetheless Polycarp insisted that the laity must obey their bishops and all properly ordained ministers of the Church because they receive their authority through Apostolic Succession.
Polycarp was not alone in this view of the Church. He recommended the writings of his friend and fellow bishop Ignatius of Antioch (also a student of John) as a source for sound teaching and edification in the faith. Polycarp and Ignatius were part of a network of bishops who held authority over local church communities in the First and Second Centuries. Ignatius referred to this world-wide Church organization as the “Catholic” (or “universal”) Church.
Within the ancient “Catholic Church” the local bishops were united to one another through a succession of bishops going back the Apostles and the thus to Jesus Himself. A further source of unity was the unique honor and respect given to the Bishop of Rome, successor of Peter and head of the Church on earth. The Bishop of Rome possessed an authority recognized by the other bishops within the universal Church. Earlier we saw how Clement, a bishop of Rome in the mid-to-late First Century, exercised an authority over the other churches as he wrote to the Corinthians to clarify a dispute over proper ordination of clergy. And again with Polycarp we saw how the Bishop of Rome was respected for his authority to set the date for the celebration of Easter. Ignatius cited the Roman Church above all others as being “worth of praise” and “worthy of honor.”
These are only a few points of interest which we have explored in past installments. As we proceed in this study of Patristic writing a more complete picture of early Christian doctrine and ecclesial life will emerge. We have thus far examined only three Fathers of the Church, with many more available for our consideration. But for now, we must take one last look at Polycarp, and for that we turn to a text written not by Polycarp but about Polycarp, specifically his martyrdom.
“The Martyrdom of Polycarp” was written shortly after the great bishop’s death by an unnamed author (or authors) in his home church of Smyrna. It was addressed to the whole Catholic Church, as a tribute to their fallen leader:
“The Church of God which sojourns at Smyrna, to the Church of God sojourning in Philomelium, and to all the congregations of the Holy and Catholic Church in every place: Mercy, peace, and love from God the Father, and our Lord Jesus Christ, be multiplied.”
The text tells of Polycarp’s arrest and subsequent trial before the multitudes in the local arena. Polycarp heroically testified to his Christian faith as he faced certain death:
“Then, the proconsul urging him, and saying, ‘Swear, and I will set you at liberty, reproach Christ;’ Polycarp declared, ‘Eighty and six years have I served Him, and He never did me any injury: how then can I blaspheme my King and my Saviour.’”
Polycarp was eventually burned at the stake. But first his crime was announced to the crowds gathered there to watch the spectacle:
“…the proconsul was astonished, and sent his herald to proclaim in the midst of the stadium thrice, Polycarp has confessed that he is a Christian. This proclamation having been made by the herald, the whole multitude both of the heathen and Jews, who dwelt at Smyrna, cried out with uncontrollable fury, and in a loud voice, ‘This is the teacher of Asia, the father of the Christians, and the overthrower of our gods, he who has been teaching many not to sacrifice, or to worship the gods.’”
Ironically, in this passage, those gathered to condemn Polycarp bestowed on him the title by which he is now known within Christianity: “father of the Christians.” His preaching made him a “father” of the faith just as Paul’s preaching had earned him that title as well: “…for I became your father in Jesus Christ through the gospel.” (1 Corinthians 4:15) The use of the term “father” to describe a spiritual leader is a Christian tradition that is clearly Biblical and that continued into the early Church. The term “father” in this text is a testament to Polycarp’s great spiritual influence, recognized even by his enemies.
In committing to writing “The Martyrdom of Polycarp” the Church of Smyrna hoped to encourage other Christians in the empire who faced persecution and to offer a tribute to a man who had provided a valuable link to the Apostles, transmitting the faith for the next generation. As such, this loving portrayal of Christian martyrdom was not originally written as a source for doctrinal study or as a textbook to explain Church teaching. Nonetheless woven into the account there are glimpses of Christian doctrine which reflect First and Second Century Christian belief, and that sketch out some intriguing theological points. For our own purposes of reflection, we will take into consideration a few individual passages…
“And when the funeral pile was ready, Polycarp, laying aside all his garments, and loosing his girdle, sought also to take off his sandals,— a thing he was not accustomed to do, inasmuch as every one of the faithful was always eager who should first touch his skin. For, on account of his holy life, he was, even before his martyrdom, adorned with every kind of good.”
This passage seems to suggest a “power” or spiritual significance attached to the body of Polycarp. Perhaps God worked miracles through Polycarp. He certainly was revered as a great teacher and a direct link to the Apostles; perhaps he had gifts of healing as the Apostles did. Whatever the case, the faithful Christians obviously attributed some religious significance to the body of this man who lived such a good and holy life. This recalls what was said of Paul in Scripture:
“God was performing extraordinary miracles by the hands of Paul, so that handkerchiefs or aprons were even carried from his body to the sick, and the diseases left them and the evil spirits went out.” (Acts 19:11-12)
According to the Bible, even the “shadow” of an Apostle could have miraculous powers: “…people brought the sick into the streets and laid them on beds and mats so that at least Peter's shadow might fall on some of them as he passed by.” (Acts 5:15)
This also brings to mind the familiar story in Mark 5:24-34 of the woman cured by touching Jesus’ garments. We are told that this was a common occurrence: “And wherever he went, into villages or cities or farms, they laid the sick in the marketplaces, and begged him that they might touch even the fringe of his cloak; and all who touched it were healed.” (Mark 6:56)
So, physical contact with a holy person, with his body or clothing or something else closely associated with his person, was a Christian practice that dates from the time of Jesus and continued through the Apostles and into the First and Second Century.
This brings us to another passage from the Martyrdom…
“…we afterwards took up his bones, as being more precious than the most exquisite jewels, and more purified than gold, and deposited them in a fitting place, whither, being gathered together, as opportunity is allowed us, with joy and rejoicing, the Lord shall grant us to celebrate the anniversary of his martyrdom, both in memory of those who have already finished their course, and for the exercising and preparation of those yet to walk in their steps.”
Even in death, a saint’s bones retained a spiritual significance for ancient Christians. They were “more precious than the most exquisite jewels, and more purified than gold” according to this Second Century account. Christians gathered around the burial places of saints to commemorate the person’s life and death in Christ: “both in memory of those who have already finished their course, and for the exercising and preparation of those yet to walk in their steps.” Obviously, saints and martyrs offered a concrete example of how to live out the faith. Polycarp stood as a first rate example of this as a witness to Apostolic teaching. Certainly this honor shown to saints presents the danger of over-emphasizing human persons and removing the focus from God. The Christians who wrote this account of Polycarp’s martyrdom were well aware of this concern and spoke directly to it...
The official who oversaw Polycarp’s trial “…did his utmost that not the least memorial of him should be taken away by us, although many desired to do this, and to become possessors of his holy flesh. For this end he suggested…to go and entreat the governor not to give up his body to be buried, lest… forsaking Him that was crucified, they begin to worship this one.”
People who do not understand the Christian practice of honoring and revering saints (such as this pagan official) often assume that we “worship” saints as though they are gods. But this ancient text goes on to correct this fallacy…
“…it is neither possible for us ever to forsake Christ, who suffered for the salvation of such as shall be saved throughout the whole world (the blameless one for sinners), nor to worship any other. For Him indeed, as being the Son of God, we adore; but the martyrs, as disciples and followers of the Lord, we worthily love on account of their extraordinary affection towards their own King and Master, of whom may we also be made companions and fellow-disciples!”
Saints and martyrs are not worshiped in place of Christ, or as equals to God. Rather they are honored for their devotion to Christ, “as disciples and followers of the Lord, we worthily love [them] on account of their extraordinary affection towards their own King and Master;” they are held up as examples to be imitated as fellow disciples of Jesus. This is not unlike Paul’s instruction regarding the example of his own life: “Be imitators of me, just as I also am of Christ.” (1 Corinthians 11:1; and also 4:16)
Paul does not limit this to himself; he says that others who follow this pattern of life are also worthy of imitation: “Brethren, join in following my example, and observe those who walk according to the pattern you have in us.” (Philippians 3:17)
Polycarp fit this model offered by Paul, as The Martyrdom of Polycarp tells us:
“He was not merely an illustrious teacher, but also a pre-eminent martyr, whose martyrdom all desire to imitate, as having been altogether consistent with the Gospel of Christ. For, having through patience overcome the unjust governor, and thus acquired the crown of immortality, he now, with the apostles and all the righteous [in heaven], rejoicingly glorifies God, even the Father, and blesses our Lord Jesus Christ, the Saviour of our souls, the Governor of our bodies, and the Shepherd of the Catholic Church throughout the world.”
(More on Polycarp’s martyrdom in the next installment…)
I will soon post Part III of a series studying the life and writings of Polycarp, a First-Second Century Christian, and bishop of the church in Smyrna in Asia Minor. Polycarp is the third “Father of the Church” I have examined in an ongoing series on “Patristics.”
The series began as a response to a conversation I had at another blog with a non-Catholic Christian who challenged the Catholic claim to an authentic, historic link to the ancient Church. Over the course of this series, I hope to examine many early Christian writings to demonstrate the thoroughly “Catholic” nature of ancient Christian belief. This series will continue to be a recurring element of my blog for the foreseeable future, as I will occasionally add to the series with new posts and new Fathers for consideration and reflection. As always, I welcome any comments or questions.
Because I was absent from my blog for a few months, and since it has been quite some time since I first began this series on Patristics, I thought it worth while to re-post my original introduction to the whole series (which can be found below). All of the subsequent posts in the series can be found in the blog archive…
Patristics: The Church in her own words
The first few centuries A.D. was not an easy time to be a Christian. Some of the earliest Christians paid for their belief with their very lives. Indeed, many were martyred for professing faith in Jesus of Nazareth. These men and women were great witnesses to the faith. (The word “martyr” in fact means “witness.”) The early Christian witnesses were sure in their convictions; they were steadfast in faith. So certain were they in the correctness of their doctrine that they were willing to die for what they believed.
If we were asked to likewise die, could we be as certain as they? How are we to know whether our doctrine is in fact authentic – authentic enough to die for? Do we believe as the first Christians did?
Christianity today offers many competing doctrines; there are many sects and denominations. No two groups teach exactly the same beliefs about God or Jesus or salvation or any other tenet of the faith. Yet all of these various Christian churches, as different as they are, attempt to make an appeal to the early Christians. The churches and denominations of today strive to link themselves to those who first believed. Everyone wants to believe as the Christian martyrs did in the First or Second or Third Centuries, when the faith was young and the Spirit was so clearly at work.
But would these early Christians recognize our brand of Christianity? Can any of our churches today truly be in line with the Christianity of the first centuries? Would we be dying for the same beliefs?
To study this question in depth we must explore what is called “patristics” – from the Latin “pater” or “father.” We must look to what are called the “Fathers” of the Church. These early Christians left behind a written record of their belief. Before they were fed to lions or cast into the flames or finished off in any number of various gruesome methods, these Christian witnesses wrote letters, compiled histories, explained Scripture, and otherwise documented a host of details from this early period of Christianity. This is a vast treasure trove of information from which we can build an idea of what the early Christians thought and believed on a whole host of issues and matters of faith.
These records are not complete. That is, they do not present a concise summary of all doctrines and dogmas that early Christians held. They were never meant to be an all-in-one reference guide to the faith. But they do give us priceless gems of insight scattered throughout centuries of writing, which when taken together, give us a broad view of what Christianity was truly all about in the first few hundred years. By studying what these Church Fathers had to say we can survey the landscape of today’s Christianity and come to see which church, if any, can truly claim an authentic relationship with the Apostolic Church.
I propose to examine several of the earliest Fathers, one by one, to examine their lives, sample some of their writings, and explore their doctrine, in an attempt to better understand the Church as she was from the beginning.
Both the Anglican (Episcopal) Church and the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America denominations have faced some internal strife in the past several months concerning openly homosexual clergy. Certain governing bodies within each of the denominations have voted to allow openly gay members to serve as pastors or even as bishops within their respective denominations. Obviously, this has caused an uproar among the more traditionally minded members. Some of those concerned Christians have begun seeking other denominational bodies with which to associate. Whole parishes or even whole dioceses are seeking to realign themselves with other factions within their own Protestant tradition.
This is really nothing new, of course. There are already a plethora of churches and denominations within Protestantism which have broken ties with one group and then merged with another, only to sometimes undo that association and move on to yet another body of Christians. Within Protestantism the lines that separate one sect from another are not always distinct nor are they solidly fixed. There is a constant splintering and realignment within Protestantism that begs the question: What is “church”?
Most Protestants (and I use that term loosely to include most non-Catholic Christians who would associate themselves with the teachings of the Protestant Reformers) describe “church” in very vague terms. The most common response I get when I ask non-Catholics this question goes something like this: “The ‘church’ is the invisible body of believers here on earth. It is all those who believe that Jesus Christ is Lord and died for our sins.” That’s a rather vague definition, but it does fit the rather vague delineations and constant shape-shifting that one sees among Protestants. I suppose it shows consistency.
I have also asked non-Catholics whether I might be included in that vague ‘church,’ since I as a Catholic believe in Jesus and in what He did for us. And the answers are mixed. Some say yes, because my belief in that simple formula of faith is enough. Others say no, because my other beliefs as a Catholic are superstitious and even idolatrous. Once again, ‘church’ is not clearly defined.
And again, I have asked Protestants why they find it necessary to associate with one another within denominations if all that is really required to be ‘church’ is a vague belief in Jesus. Why have a Lutheran Church Missouri Synod that is distinct from the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America and why are these Lutheran sects then separate from Anglicans, Baptists and so on, who also have their divisions. If all we need is a belief in Jesus and THERE is the Church, then why are there so many churches?
“Well, these are the various ‘traditions’ within Protestantism,” I am told. “Different men and women have read Scripture and discovered different ways to live out the Gospel Truth.” ….Hmmm, sounds an awful lot like the “traditions of men.” Catholics get that one pounded over our heads quite frequently. (But Catholics only accept ONE Tradition; anyone who wants to read the Bible and come up with their own tradition can go join the Protestant fold.)
And so the questions continue: What about these differing methods of governing the churches – councils, synods, congregationalism? What about bishops – why do some have them and others do not? What about the role of the laity – why do some play an active role in determining doctrine and others do not? What about the sacraments – how many are there, what significance do they have, what do they do for us?
So then, finally I must ask my Protestant friends: why is it that Jesus did not clearly define the Church? What guide do we have from Jesus to show us what teachings are correct?
“Well, the BIBLE, of course. The New Testament gives us a description of the Church and what it should look like.”
So I search the pages of Scripture to see what it is that Jesus literally said on this matter. Strangely, He never said to the Apostles, “I will command some among you to write a New Testament, and this will teach you how to form a Church. From this you will form various denominations and associate with fellow Christians within these differing traditions.” No. He did not leave it up to us to go thumbing through the Bible to find out how to do this thing called “church.” He did not intend for us to form thousands of separate churches that squabble over doctrinal and moral issues and perpetually realign themselves as doctrines change.
Rather than allow such confusion and vagueness when it comes to the question of “church,” Jesus established, once and for all, a single Church, when He said, “…on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hell will not overcome it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven; whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.” (Matthew 16:18-19)
A Church with this authority to “bind and loose” could never be questioned on matters of faith and morals. Such a Church, established by Jesus Himself, could never be viewed as an optional ‘tradition of men’ added on after the fact. A Church that can withstand the “gates of Hell” could never be a wishy-washy, vague denomination or an invisible, undefined throng, who disagree on doctrine and meet in separate houses of worship. A house divided against itself cannot stand…how could the Protestant vision of ‘church’ stand up to the very gates of Hell?
The head of the Anglican Communion has suggested a solution to the problem of ordained homosexual clergy. He suggests that two distinct bodies of Anglicans could co-exist within one larger denomination. One group can maintain the traditional view, that open homosexuality is a sin and objectively disordered and thus precludes one from ordination. The other group could accept homosexuality as a valid expression of Christian sexuality and so allow gays into the priesthood and episcopal office. It seems to me that this only temporarily puts off an inevitable schism. How can one church believe two opposing things regarding such a serious sin and ordination? How can anyone endorse the idea of a house divided against itself, and call it the Christian “Church”?
But then again…Isn’t that the foundation of Protestantism – Christianity torn by schism, first from Catholicism and then from one another? Haven’t Protestants always, on the one hand, defended their diversity of belief, yet on the other, ripped apart their houses of worship and shattered their unity because of the diversity they so loudly proclaim?
Is this God’s plan for His Church?
I have always considered the naming of a child an important responsibility for parents. One ought to approach this task seriously and, dare I say, even religiously - with a mind toward one’s faith. God calls each of us by name…it is the parents’ duty to select the name that will be uttered by the Good Shepherd as “he calls his own sheep by name.” (John 10:3) As parents we are responsible for the development of new souls created by God as unique individuals and meant for eternal life. The name given each child is the first official act parents take in guiding that soul to heaven, where his or her name will be written in the Book of Life.
In Scripture names often describe a person’s vocation or personality or relationship to others, including a relationship to God. A change in a person’s status or a special call from God often included a change of names: Abram became Abraham, Jacob became Israel, Saul changed to Paul, and Simon was named Peter. God’s own name was so sacred that the ancient Jews were forbidden to utter it. So, in this ancient Judeo-Christian tradition, the name of a newborn child ought to bear with it great significance, marking the child for a special purpose, reminding him or her of God’s call to holiness.
Needless to say, my wife and I thought carefully and prayerfully about the names of our children. Our most recent addition to the family, Elizabeth Gianna, has been perhaps the most significant of these name selections, both in the way her name came about and hopefully in the way her name will shape our future and hers. Specifically the name “Gianna” carries with it a deep spiritual meaning for us.
While four months pregnant with Elizabeth my wife had a stroke. She awoke one night with one side of her body in paralyzed – her fist clenched tight, one side of her face drooping, and one leg heavy and difficult to move. I immediately called 911; the ambulance arrived and rushed her to the hospital. I stayed behind at our house with our two oldest children (both of whom had been sick and were sound asleep through the whole event). I reluctantly agreed, at my wife’s insistence, to stay home until the hospital called with more information. Obviously it was a sleepless night.
Our son awoke shortly after the ambulance drove away. He came to me and asked where Mom had gone. I explained everything and tried to prepare him for what might be a changed life – a mother who needs our help and care, a parent who once labored for her family but might now need her family to make sacrifices for her. I tried not to imagine the worst case scenarios, but these things have a way of creeping into your head when you lie awake not knowing what the morning will bring.
Our son asked, “What can we do for Mom now?”
“Pray.” I replied. And so I led him through some prayers. He prayed silently for awhile until he drifted off to sleep again.
I could not sleep…but worst of all, I could not pray. Oh, I mouthed the words and meditated on mysteries, but half of me wasn’t there. Half of me was in the hospital, and I didn’t know if she was going to be the same after that night.
As I lay awake, alone and in the dark, I remembered Saint Gianna Molla. She was an Italian doctor, wife, and mother who died in the 1960’s. While pregnant with her fourth child, she developed a tumor on her uterus. She was told that if she aborted her child the tumor could be removed and she would be cured. But if she continued with the pregnancy there would certainly be risks and she could very likely die. Gianna refused to kill her own child. She insisted that if the doctors had to choose which life to save they should save the life of her unborn baby. Eventually, after a difficult pregnancy she gave birth to a healthy baby girl. A short time later Gianna died from complications. She was declared a Saint in 2004 and is a model of self-sacrifice and motherhood.
My wife read about Saint Gianna more than a year ago - long before her most recent pregnancy and before her own medical scare. She was immediately drawn to this woman who lived so close to our own time and who dedicated her life so profoundly to her family, sacrificing her own life for the life of her child. When I heard the story of Gianna I was impressed, but not particularly dawn to the saint in the same way my wife had been. It was one of those things you store away in your mind but seldom revisit. I knew who Gianna was, but beyond that I had simply a vague admiration of her.
That changed the night of my wife’s stroke.
As I lay in bed, I prayed all the usual prayers that every Catholic learns from childhood, but my mind was elsewhere. I tried praying silently, without words, placing myself in God’s presence, but my focus was gone. I tried to find words of my own, but I found none. None of it felt like “real” prayer. My mind raced and anxiety crept in. This went on for more than an hour.
Then I remembered Gianna. I knew my wife had felt a connection to her even before this night. But now she faced an unknown illness as she bore within her our unborn daughter. Her relationship to Gianna seemed more intimate than before.
So I said, “Gianna, I can’t seem to pray right now. If you could just say some prayers for me, while I try to get some sleep, maybe I’ll be able to face whatever the morning brings.” Immediately I felt at peace and I drifted off to sleep.
I awoke only a couple of hours later. With very little sleep, I still felt refreshed and ready for whatever news I would receive from the doctors. I didn’t have to wait long. While feeding the kids their breakfast, I got a call from the hospital. My wife was ready to be discharged. There were no lasting signs of the stroke – the paralysis had gone away, her vital signs were normal, and most importantly, the baby was fine.
She had actually been ready for release a few hours before, but as my wife later recalled, she had heard the doctor say, “Don’t call her husband just yet. She has young ones at home – let them sleep.” And I had slept, thanks to Gianna. It was about the same time the doctor had said these words (some time in the middle of the night) that I had whispered my request to Saint Gianna and finally found peace. And I am sure it was thanks to Gianna that my wife had made a full recovery so quickly.
Months later (and after several more doctors visits that offered us no further explanation as to what had happened that night) we celebrated the birth of our daughter. The ob-gyn who delivered her asked us, “What are you naming her?”
Years before, we had settled on “Elizabeth” (my wife’s Confirmation name) as the name of our next daughter. Of course, Elizabeth was a woman who also bore a child (John the Baptist) under miraculous circumstances, and is a model for mothers. But we had not settled on a middle name until that night of worry and prayer when Gianna had come to our aide. It seemed fitting that Gianna should be honored as our child’s namesake. So we replied to the doctor’s question: “Elizabeth Gianna.”
The doctor raised his eyebrows, “Interesting. Where did you get Gianna?”
Of course, he already knew of my wife’s medical history, having been her physician. So we explained who Gianna Molla was, and all about my prayer that night. We told him that Gianna is an important patron saint of the pro-life cause and that we wanted to pass on to our daughter the same love of life and willingness to sacrifice for others. Prompted by this reply, we had a brief but engaging conversation with him and the attending nurse about life and parenthood, the significance of names and the sometimes profound meaning of names, and how the culture seems to have lost sight of these things.
Many times, when people are asked, “Where did you get your child’s name?” I hear the reply: “I just thought it sounded nice.” When my wife and I are asked about Elizabeth’s name we can respond: “Let me tell you a story about a woman who gave her life for her own child. And let me tell you why I value each human life, especially the unborn…” Our daughter’s name gives us the opportunity to witness to our faith and to speak out about the horror of abortion and the sanctity of human life. I don’t know how many people we may affect in this way. I don’t know how many people Elizabeth will encounter who will ask her the same question and give her the chance to offer her own testimony. But I do know that in choosing her name we have pointed her in the right direction for a strong relationship with God and a deep appreciation for her faith.
So many of today’s parents choose their child’s name to be “different,” to be “unique,” to set them apart from the crowd. I hope that my own children’s names teach them that they are a part of something bigger, that they are dependent on others, and that others depend on them. I hope that their names point to a larger Communion of Saints that reaches beyond earth, beyond the here and now, and draws them into one Body in Christ.
So many of today’s parents choose their child’s name for the beauty of the word. But the beauty of a name is not found only in the way it rolls off the tongue or melodically dances in the air when we call out to our child. Names carry stories, and symbols, and messages of faith, hope, and love. A name carries with it the richness of a person’s life. The beauty of the word should point to the beauty of the Word - our names should point us to Christ.
When I began this blog a year ago I had planned to post every week, or at least every other week, as time allowed. However, with the birth of our third child at the end of May, my wife and I have been understandably busy and I have been unable to blog. Now that things have settled down at home, I hope to get back into a more regular schedule of writing.
I have decided to not answer any questions or comments that were left in my absence. I came to that conclusion, not to be rude to any readers, but as a matter of simple practicality. Since I cannot be sure of who is still following this blog, or who might still have any interest in what I have to say after an absence of over two months, I thought it more prudent to ask that any questions or comments be re-posted and attached to this entry so that I can address them as fresh comments. That way, I can save time by not responding to people who may not even be reading, and also people’s comments will be bumped up to this more current date.
In short, I am starting fresh you might say. Sorry about the long absence. Hopefully I will be writing more regularly in the future…
My wife recently gave birth to our third child. Both are doing great, but obviously I have been rather busy, which has caused me to neglect this blog. Hopefully I'll be posting again this week, and then getting back to a more routine schedule.
Sorry if I left any comments unanswered, but the birth was a couple of weeks sooner than expected, so we were not as prepared as we might have been.
Having examined the life of Polycarp including his journey to Rome concerning the date of Easter, we now turn to the epistle written by this Apostolic Father. Although history suggests that Polycarp wrote many letters during his time as bishop, only one survives down to our present time. Polycarp wrote this letter to the church in Philippi, prompted by their request to send to them words of encouragement as well as copies of letters in his possession from his friend, Ignatius of Antioch:
“The Epistles of Ignatius written by him to us, and all the rest [of his Epistles] which we have by us, we have sent to you, as you requested. They are subjoined to this Epistle, and by them you may be greatly profited; for they treat of faith and patience, and all things that tend to edification in our Lord.”
Further Polycarp seems to indicate that he had not yet received confirmation of Ignatius’ martyrdom, and hoped to learn from the Philippians more news of Ignatius and his companions: “Any more certain information you may have obtained respecting both Ignatius himself, and those that were with him, have the goodness to make known to us.”
Thus this letter to the Philippians dates to around the same time period of Ignatius’ letters and subsequent death, or shortly after, which places it a decade or so after the turn of the Second Century.
Polycarp’s letter consists primarily of exhortations to live moral lives in obedience to the commands of God. While the text is shorter than most of Ignatius’ writings, it is filled throughout with quotes from Scripture, especially the writings that would later become known as the New Testament. Polycarp is a wonderful early witness to the Christian use of these books for instruction and discipline.
However, the above passage concerning the writings of Ignatius – “…by them you may be greatly profited; for they treat of faith and patience, and all things that tend to edification in our Lord” – testifies to the fact that there was not an established norm defining which writings ought to be used by Christians for the purpose of instruction and formation in the faith. Indeed while Polycarp bears strong witness to the writings that would later form the New Testament, he seldom mentions them specifically by name, but instead points to Ignatius’ letters as a source for Christian “edification.”
It must be understood that the Bible was not clearly defined by this time in the Second Century, and many of the writings of the Church Fathers (including Ignatius, and Clement of Rome) were read at Christian worship services then copied and passed along to other churches in the same way that we would expect the New Testament to be preserved and cherished. For this reason, Polycarp also includes Ignatius as one who is worthy of imitation, along with Paul and the other Apostles:
“I exhort you all, therefore, to yield obedience to the word of righteousness, and to exercise all patience, such as you have seen [set] before your eyes, not only in the case of the blessed Ignatius, and Zosimus, and Rufus, but also in others among yourselves, and in Paul himself, and the rest of the apostles. [This do] in the assurance that all these have not run in vain, but in faith and righteousness, and that they are [now] in their due place in the presence of the Lord, with whom also they suffered.”
The Bible was not compiled into one book during Polycarp’s lifetime; he therefore does not distinguish between these writings as we would today. Nor does he rely on the Bible "Alone” (as some Christian denominations insist on today) as a guide for Christian doctrine and morals. Rather than the “Bible Alone” as guarantor of Christian unity and fidelity to Apostolic teaching, Polycarp points to the hierarchy of the Church. He strongly encourages the Philippians to avoid evil and sin and then he tells them to obey the ordained clergy:
“Wherefore, it is needful to abstain from all these things, being subject to the presbyters and deacons, as unto God and Christ.”
Just as we saw with Ignatius, Polycarp insists that the priests (presbyters) and deacons derive their authority from “God and Christ,” and to them we owe our allegiance. The Church, through her ordained ministers, ensures sound teaching, moral guidance, and protects the unity of all believers.
However, Polycarp also tells us of a presbyter named Valens who fell from grace through disobedience and sin:
“I am greatly grieved for Valens, who was once a presbyter among you, because he so little understands the place that was given him [in the Church]. I exhort you, therefore, that you abstain from covetousness, and that you be chaste and truthful. Abstain from every form of evil. For if a man cannot govern himself in such matters, how shall he enjoin them on others?”
Here Polycarp confronts an issue that many today would charge against the Catholic Church throughout the centuries. How can a church lead by sinners tell others not to sin? How can a church whose leaders are guilty of immorality be the same vehicle through which God exercises His own authority?
Polycarp’s letter demonstrates that even at this early date the Church grappled with this problem. Already they had encountered leaders who did not live up to their vocation. Polycarp realizes that if a man cannot “govern himself in such matters” it would be difficult for him to expect obedience from those under him. It seems that for this reason Valens was then removed from his office.
But Polycarp does not use this presbyter’s sin as an excuse to abandon the authoritative, hierarchical structure of the Church. To the contrary, he strongly insists on obedience to the clergy, even while in the same letter mentioning the disobedience of one of the presbyters. Polycarp recognized the sinfulness of some ranking members of the clergy, and yet continued to insist that God works through the Church leaders despite their sins. Polycarp calls for Valens to be reconciled with the Church:
“I am deeply grieved, therefore, brethren, for him (Valens) and his wife; to whom may the Lord grant true repentance! And be then moderate in regard to this matter, and do not count such as enemies, but call them back as suffering and straying members, that you may save your whole body. For by so acting you shall edify yourselves.”
There are many today who reject Catholicism based on the sins committed by members of the hierarchy. It must be admitted that these sins do occur and cause great scandal for the Church. In this matter we would do well to heed Polycarp. He sees here an opportunity for reconciliation and a healing of the Body of Christ. Some Christians down through the ages have called for rebellion and schism when faced with the sins of bishops, priests, and popes – but the early Church reacted with pity and an eye toward forgiveness, and always desirous to maintain unity among all believers. Because the Church is divinely instituted (established by Jesus and guided by the Spirit), the authority of the Church remains intact in spite of the sins of her members.
We have been reviewing the life and writings of Polycarp of Smyrna, a First and Second Century Christian and bishop, an Apostolic Father, and student of the Apostle John. In our study, we have seen that Polycarp described the Church as a hierarchical, authoritative institution which derives its teaching power from God. According to Polycarp, we owe our allegiance to the Church as we owe obedience to Christ - this despite the imperfections of the humans who make up the Church. Polycarp acknowledged that the ordained clergy sometimes fall into sin and may need to be removed from office when they are unfit to serve (he offers an example of this in the person of Valens, a presbyter in his own time who was removed for matters of personal sin). Nonetheless Polycarp insisted that the laity must obey their bishops and all properly ordained ministers of the Church because they receive their authority through Apostolic Succession.
