'In him one single link connected the earthly life of Christ
with the close of the second century, though five or six
generations had intervened. St. John, Polycarp,
Irenaeus--this was the succession which guaranteed the
continuity of the evangelical record and of the Apostolic
teaching. The long life of St. John, followed by the long
life of Polycarp, had secured this result. What the Church
towards the close of the second century was--how full was
its teaching--how complete its canon--how adequate its
organization--how wise its extension--we know well enough
from Irenaeus' extant work. But the intervening period had
been disturbed by feverish speculation and grave anxieties
on all sides. Polycarp saw teacher after teacher spring up,
each introducing some fresh system, and each professing to
teach the true Gospel. Menander, Cerinthus, Carpocrates,
Saturninus, Basilides, Cerdon, Valentinus, Marcion--all
these flourished during his lifetime, and all taught after
he had grown up to manhood. Against all such innovations of
doctrine and practice there lay the appeal to Polycarp's
personal knowledge. With what feelings he regarded such
teachers we may learn not only from his own epistle (Sec. 7),
but from the sayings recorded by Irenaeus, "O good God, for
what times hast Thou kept me, I recognize the firstborn of
Satan." He was eminently fitted, too, by his personal
qualities to fulfil this function as a depositary of
tradition.... Polycarp's mind was essentially unoriginative.
It had no creative power. His Epistle is largely made up of
quotations from the Evangelical and Apostolic writings, from
Clement of Rome, from the Epistles of Ignatius.... A
stedfast, stubborn adherence to the lessons of his youth and
early manhood, an unrelaxing, unwavering hold of "the word
that was delivered to him from the beginning"--this, so far
as we can read the man from his own utterances or from the
notices of others, was the characteristic of Polycarp. His
religious convictions were seen to be "founded," as Ignatius
had said long before (Polyc. 1) "on an immovable rock." He
was not dismayed by the plausibilities of false teachers,
but "stood firm as an anvil under the hammer's stroke."
(_ib._ 3).'
The Church has ever claimed for her Saint not so much the reverence paid
to the martyr, or the deference due to the ruler, or the teachableness
powerful in the writer, as the attention obligatory to an 'elder.' Why?
We may give the reason in the Bishop's words:
'While the oral tradition of the Lord's life and of the
Apostolic teaching was still fresh, the believers of
succeeding generations not unnaturally appealed to it for
confirmation against the many counterfeits of the Gospel
which offered themselves for acceptance. The authorities for
this tradition were "the Elders." To the testimony of these
Elders appeal was made by Papias in the first, and by
Irenaeus in the second generation after the Apostles. With
Papias the Elders were those who themselves had seen the
Lord, or had been eye-witnesses of the Apostolic history:
with Irenaeus the term included likewise persons who, like
Papias himself, had been acquainted with these
eye-witnesses. And among these Polycarp held the foremost
place.'
The existing letter to the Philippians is now recognized as a genuine
work of the Saint; and this on the testimony of internal evidence, quite
as much as on the direct testimony of Irenaeus, his own disciple. The
arbitrary method of a Daille, the interpolation-theory of Ritschl, and
the wholesale rejection of the Epistle by Schwegler, Zeller, and
Hilgenfeld, have ceased to command attention or demand refutation. The
Epistle is too closely confined to the letters and martyrdom of Ignatius
to warrant our looking for much refutation in it of existing error; but
the spirit and counsel of the 'elder' is truly there warning against
false and hypocritical brethren, and impelling his readers to turn unto
the word delivered unto them from the beginning.
Never was Christian counsel and sturdy faith more needed than in the
period covered by the lifetime of Polycarp. The Bishop of Durham
describes it as 'the most tumultuous period in the religious history of
the world'; and in connection with the Bishop of Smyrna he notes that 'a
chief arena of the struggle between creeds and cults was Asia Minor.' If
in the earlier part of the second century (A. D. 112) Pliny, in his
celebrated letter to Trajan,[86] deplored what Polycarp may have
witnessed--on the one hand, heathen temples deserted and heathen
sacrifices starved as to their victims; on the other, young and old, man
and woman, patrician and peasant, bond and free, attracted to and
mastered by a 'superstition' which affected alike the city and the
village, the nobleman's mansion and the herdsman's hut, yet the splendid
successes of Christianity did not blind either saint or philosopher. 'A
veritable Pagan propaganda,' as Renan calls it, also set in in the
second century; and when Polycarp died, it was at its height. Everywhere
was it supported by the reigning emperors. 'The political and truly
Roman instincts of Trajan were not more friendly to it than the
archaeological tastes, the cosmopolitan interests, and the theological
levity of Hadrian. From their immediate successors, Antoninus Pius and
Marcus Aurelius, it received even more solid and efficient support.'
Smyrna, the see of Bishop Polycarp, was fully exposed to the influences
of this reviving Paganism. The rhetorician, Aristides--true type of the
Pagan charlatan who summoned to his aid in subjugating a superstitious
people the mysterious and occult powers with which astrology and dreams,
auguries and witchcrafts, invested their possessors--was himself a
frequent dweller in Smyrna. Often must he have heard of and despised the
man branded by the titles, 'the teacher of Asia, the father of the
Christians, the puller-down of our gods, who teacheth numbers not to
sacrifice nor worship'[87] which--like the inscription over his
crucified Lord--did unconsciously proclaim the very and only truth.
Twice did the city of Smyrna, during Polycarp's prime, receive fresh
honours and privileges for her devotion to the worship of Imperial
deities. The religious guild of the temples of the Augusti celebrated
here their festivals with exceptional splendour; the 'theologians' and
'choristers,' who owed their existence and affluence to the magnificence
of a Hadrian, not only saluted him as their 'god,' their 'saviour and
founder,' but by senatorial decree established games--the Olympia
Hadrianea--grotesquely pompous in titular magnificence. Naturally this
affected the well-being of the infant Church of Christ in Smyrna; but
that Church was assailed from another quarter, and by the sharpened
weapons, not of a scornful superiority, but of fanatical hatred. The
Jews were both numerous and powerful in Smyrna, and two cruel episodes
in their late national history accentuated their fury against the
Christians wherever they met with them. The first was the destruction of
Jerusalem (A. D. 70). The fugitives from Palestine, who found refuge in
Smyrna with their fellow-countrymen already settled there, found
sympathy also--save from one class, the Christians. Compassion these
last could feel for men whose best blood had welled over the courts of
the Temple, whose dearest and nearest had perhaps perished in Jerusalem,
that 'cage of furious madmen, a city of howling wild beasts and of
cannibals--a hell' (Renan); but they knew to be true what a Titus had
acknowledged, that 'the hand of God' was in the victory of Rome. They
saw in the downfall of the Holy City the retribution of the Heavenly
Father for the crucifixion of the Messiah; and sorrow with the sorrow of
the weeping patriots of Israel they could not and would not. Their
refusal was the signal for a determination to seize every opportunity of
revenge; and the second episode, to which we have alluded, is connected
with a specially furious outburst of maddened passion against Christians
on the part of the Jews. Hadrian, fifty years after the fall of
Jerusalem, had resolved upon rearing on its ruins the city of AElia
Capitolina. Then flashed forth the rebellion of the Jew Bar-cochba (A.
D. 132-4). The 'Son of the Star,' supported by his standard-bearer,
Akiba, the greatest of the Rabbins, measured his strength with Rome.
With mouth breathing forth flames,[88] he inspired his partisans with
confidence, and his enemies with terror. Flung back, disappointed, and
slain at Bither, the 'Son of a Lie,' as his disappointed countrymen had
found him to their cost and re-named him, had yet found opportunities of
inflicting terrible tortures and agonizing deaths upon those Christians
in Palestine, who had dared to reject his Messianic claims, and refused
to blaspheme Christ. And the spirit of vengeance spread from the Holy
Land to the provinces. Twenty years after the death of the rebel leader,
the Jews of Smyrna--probably to Polycarp 'a synagogue of Satan,' as in
earlier times St. John his master had described
them (Rev. ii. 9)--found their opportunity. Their vengeance then was
only slaked by the blood of the Christian Bishop.
The Saint's martyrdom was the crowning consummation of the Saint's life.
With the Bishop of Durham's help we can now collect all that we shall
probably ever know of both; and to this we turn in conclusion.[89]
The date of his martyrdom may be accepted as about 155 A. D.[90] If
Polycarp was then 86 years of age, his birth may be placed in A. D. 60
or 70, at a time nearly coincident with the date of the destruction of
Jerusalem. That event was the cause which drove St. John to fix his
abode ultimately at Ephesus, the traditional home of St. Andrew, and
near to the Phrygian Hierapolis, where St. Philip the Apostle died and
was buried. The proximity of Smyrna to Ephesus, and the reputation
accorded to both in the flattering designation of 'the two eyes' of
proconsular Asia, would make intercourse between the cities familiar and
frequent. In the Christian advantages consequent upon such intercourse
Polycarp had his full share, if it be impossible to assert positively
that he was a Smyrnaean by birth, and of Christian parentage. But the
legends at the close of the fourth century, as embodied in the story of
Pionius, sought and found for his origin a more romantic, if sad,
beginning. One night, God's Angel appeared to a widow of Smyrna named
Callisto, rich in worldly wealth, but still more rich in good work.
'Go,' he bade her, 'to the Ephesian gate. There you will find two men.
They have with them a young lad for sale. Give them their price, and
take and keep the child. He is by birth an Eastern.' The child was
Polycarp. She did as she was bid. She bought and reared him, and
eventually left to him all her substance. The fact implied in the last
words, that Polycarp was a comparatively well-to-do man, is the one fact
out of the above story supported by more authentic documents. Perhaps
also the picture of the man, so pleasing and natural, drawn by Pionius,
may present traits faithful to the original:--
'The love of knowledge and the fondness of the Scriptures,
which distinguishes the people of the East, bore rich fruit
in him. He offered himself a whole offering to God, by
prayer and study of the Scriptures, by spareness of diet and
simplicity of clothing, by liberal almsgiving. He was
bashful and retiring, shunning the busy throngs of men, and
consorting only with those who needed his assistance. When
he met an aged wood-carrier outside the walls, he would
purchase his burden, would carry it himself to the city, and
would give it to the widows living near the gate. The
Bishop Bucolus cherished him as a son, and he in turn
requited his love with filial care and devotion.'
But we may catch from real and genuine sources three glimpses of the
man: in youth as the disciple of St. John, in middle age as the champion
of Ignatius, in closing life as the teacher of Irenaeus. Of the circle of
disciples who gathered round St. John, Polycarp is indubitably the most
famous. He delighted, in his declining years, to tell his younger
friends what he had himself heard from eye-witnesses of the Lord's life
on earth; and he would dwell especially on his intercourse with the
Apostle of Love. There is nothing improbable in the belief, that he was
ordained to the episcopate by the venerable Apostle. Among his
contemporaries were Clement, Papias, and Ignatius. Polycarp knew, as has
been stated, the letter of the great Bishop of Rome, and Papias--his
'companion,' as Irenaeus[91] calls him--became his neighbour at
Hierapolis. But it is with Ignatius that the younger man is inseparably
linked. They met, probably for the first (and only) time, at Smyrna when
the great Bishop of Antioch was on his way to martyrdom at Rome.
Touching in their affectionateness are the remarks which each passes
upon each. Polycarp inspires Ignatius with 'love.' The younger man is to
the older 'most blessed,' 'clothed with grace,' marked by 'fervid
sincerity,' a man 'whose godly mind is grounded on an immovable rock'
(Letter to Polycarp). To Polycarp, Ignatius 'the blessed' is the pattern
of men, 'obedient unto the word of righteousness and practising all
endurance,' 'encircled in saintly bonds which are the diadems of them
that be truly chosen of God and our Lord.' The two men parted, never
again to meet on earth, yet to be linked together by 'martyrdom
comformable to the Gospel' But ere that 'birthday' arrived, Polycarp had
to live for nearly half a century; and potent was his influence upon the
men of a younger generation. Melito, Claudius Apollinaris, and
Polycrates, famous among the Fathers of Asia, must have known him well;
Justin Martyr visited him from Ephesus; but mightiest and dearest of all
was his pupil Irenaeus, the champion of orthodoxy against Gnosticism.
'When I was still a boy,' wrote Irenaeus, '(I was) in company
with Polycarp in Asia Minor.... I can tell the very place in
which the blessed Polycarp used to sit when he discoursed,
his goings out and comings in, his manner of life and his
personal appearance, his discourses which he gave to the
people, and his description of his intercourse with John,
and the rest of those who had seen the Lord.'[92]
Those were reminiscences and lessons never forgotten by the future
Bishop of Lyons. To him, as to 'all the churches of Asia and to the
successors of Polycarp' himself, the pupil of St. John was 'a much more
trustworthy and safe witness of the truth than Valentinus and Marcion,
and all such wrong-minded men.'[93]
The end came at last. A persecution was raging; how or why we know not.
All that can be known is told in the 'Letter of the Smyrnaeans.'[94] The
simplicity and pathos of the story, as told by this ancient document, so
moved the great Scaliger, that he felt hardly master of himself. We
cannot tell the tale of triumph in better words than in those of that
exquisite piece of ecclesiastical antiquity. The great annual festival
was being held at Smyrna, presided over by the Asiarch and 'high
priest'[95] Philip, a wealthy citizen of the wealthy Tralles, and graced
by the presence of the Proconsul Statius Quadratus. The persecutor had
asked for blood, and blood had been granted him. Already several
victims, Philadelphians, 'so torn by lashes that the mechanism of their
flesh was visible even as far as the inward veins and arteries,' had
'endured patiently;' showing to the weeping bystanders such bravery that
the explanation became current--'(these) martyrs of Christ being
tortured, were absent from the flesh, or rather the Lord was standing by
and conversing with them.' Others 'condemned to the wild beasts, endured
fearful punishments, being made to lie on sharp shells and buffeted with
other forms of manifold tortures, that the devil might, if possible, by
the persistence of the punishment bring them to a denial; for he tried
many wiles against them.' Men remembered afterwards how 'the right noble
Germanicus,' scorning the pity the Proconsul would have extended to his
youth, 'used violence, and dragged the wild beast towards him.' Such
bravery, 'the bravery of the God-fearing and God-beloved people of the
Christians,' only whetted the pagan thirst for blood. There rang out the
shout, 'Away with the atheists![96] Let search be made for Polycarp!'
He had gone against his will into the country, probably to one of his
own farms; and he was found without much difficulty. He placed before
his captors food and drink, and asked but a single boon of them--'one
hour that he might pray unmolested.' Those mounted soldiers, 'wondering
why there should be such eagerness for the apprehension of an old man
like him,' gave their consent. 'He stood up and prayed; and being full
of the grace of God, for two hours he could not hold his peace, so that
they who heard him were amazed, and many repented that they had come
against such a venerable old man.' They brought him to the city, seated
on an ass. Steadily did he refuse the real and sincere endeavours of
compassionate heathen to 'save himself.' 'What harm,' they asked, 'is
there in saying, Caesar is Lord, and offering incense?' He would only
answer, 'I am not going to do what you counsel me.' As he entered the
stadium, the human roar, fiercer and more cruel than that of wild
beasts, rose above every other sound. Polycarp did not heed it; a voice
came to him from heaven, 'Be strong, Polycarp, and play the man;' and,
nerved by what other Christians had also heard, he stood at last before
Statius. Words, at first pitiful, greeted him: 'Have respect to thine
age!--Swear by the genius of Caesar! Say, "Away with the atheists."' The
Saint caught up the last word. He 'looked with solemn countenance upon
that vast multitude of lawless heathen; and groaning and looking up to
heaven, he said, 'Away with the atheists.' Was he then yielding? The
Proconsul had misunderstood him, but he pressed him hard and said 'Swear
the oath, and I will release thee. Revile the Christ!' Polycarp looked
him in the face, and gave him the answer which can never die. 'Fourscore
and six years have I been His servant, and He hath done me no wrong. How
then can I blaspheme my King Who saved me?' The words of pity changed
into threats. 'I have wild beasts here,' said Statius, 'and I will throw
thee to them except thou change thy mind.' 'Call them,' was the
unflinching answer. 'If thou despisest the wild beasts, I will cause
thee to be consumed by fire.' Polycarp remembered a dream of three days
before in which he had seen his pillow burning with fire, and which he
had interpreted to those with him as signifying that he would be burnt
alive. He answered now, 'Thou threatenest that fire which burneth for a
season and after a little while is quenched. For thou art ignorant of
the fire of the future judgment and eternal punishment, which is
reserved for the ungodly:' and then he added--in his impatience to be
'made a partaker with Christ'--'But why delayest thou? Come, do what
thou wilt.' Saying this, 'he was inspired with courage and joy, and his
countenance was filled with grace.'
The herald's proclamation was soon heard announcing three times,
'Polycarp hath confessed himself to be a Christian;' and again the human
yell broke forth from Gentile and Jew, this time fashioning itself into
distinct speech: 'This is the teacher of Asia, the father of the
Christians, the puller down of our gods, who teacheth numbers not to
sacrifice nor worship.... Let the lion loose upon him!' 'That is
impossible' was the answer of the Asiarch, 'for the sports have closed.'
They shouted out 'with one accord, "Burn him alive!" Quicker than words
could tell, the crowds collected timber and faggots from workshops and
baths, and the Jews especially assisted in this with zeal, as was their
wont.' They placed around him the 'instruments prepared for the pile,'
and were going to nail him to the stake. He interposed with his last
request of men, 'Leave me as I am. He that hath granted me to endure the
fire, will grant me also to remain at the pile unmoved, without the
security you seek from nails.' They 'tied him to the stake.' He stood up
'like a noble ram out of a great flock for an offering, a
burnt-sacrifice made ready and acceptable to God;' and looking up to
heaven, made his last request of God in one of the noblest prayers
preserved in ancient or modern literature. His Amen said, 'the firemen
lighted the fire. The mighty flame flashed forth,' and men saw then,
what in later days they saw repeated at the martyrdom of a Savonarola
and of a Hooper,[97] the fire, 'like the sail of a vessel filled with
wind, surrounding as with a wall the body of the martyr. It was there in
the midst, not like flesh burning, but like gold and silver refined in a
furnace.' Could he not die?
'Lawless men, seeing that his body could not be consumed by
the fire, ordered an executioner to go up to him and stab
him with a dagger. And when he had done this, there came
forth a quantity of blood,[98] so that it extinguished the
fire; and all the multitude marvelled that there should be
so great a difference between the unbelievers and the
elect.'
The Christians hoped to have taken away the 'poor body,' but 'the
jealous and envious Evil One, the adversary of the family of the
righteous,' instigated the Jews to urge upon the magistrate not to give
up his body, lest they (the Christians) should abandon the crucified One
and begin to worship this man,... 'not knowing' (add the narrators) 'how
impossible it would be for them to forsake at any time the Christ Who
suffered for the salvation of the whole world of those who are
saved--suffered, though sinless, for sinners--not to worship any other.'
The body was placed again on the pile and consumed. Then 'the bones,
more valuable than precious stones and finer than refined gold,' were
taken up and laid in a suitable place.
So died a Polycarp as had died an Ignatius, both martyred, and both
memorable for 'nobleness, patient endurance, and loyalty to their
Master.' The motto of their deaths was the motto of their lives,
condensed into the saying of the martyr of Antioch to the martyr of
Smyrna:--
'[Greek: hopou pleion kopos, poly kerdos.]
'The greater the pain, the greater the gain.'
We know nothing certain of the tombs which tradition or affection have
pointed out as the last resting-place of the calcined remains of either
Saint, but we need no longer such perishable monuments. The
English-speaking and English-reading race have in the volumes of the
Bishop of Durham a fitting shrine for those literary remains which
survive destruction. Scholarship and piety, study and prayer, have here
combined to shed light upon the writings, and to raise a monument to the
lives, of those champions of early Christianity, who in their day
wrought a good work, and still speak, though dead.