Sacrificing for the Emperor: Cultural Orthodoxy and God's People

"At any given moment there is an orthodoxy, a body of ideas which it is assumed that all right-thinking people will accept without question. It is not exactly forbidden to say this, that or the other, but it is ‘not done’ to say it, just as in mid-Victorian times it was ‘not done’ to mention trousers in the presence of a lady. Anyone who challenges the prevailing orthodoxy finds himself silenced with surprising effectiveness. A genuinely unfashionable opinion is almost never given a fair hearing, either in the popular press or in the highbrow periodicals." ~ George Orwell, "The Freedom of the Press" (emphasis added)

My friends, this is a post that I have wanted to write for several years now. It has been a part of many conversations that I have had with friends, congregants, family, and many, many others over the past few years. Last year, with the SCOTUS ruling on marriage, my desire to write it has been "amped up," but yet, I have continued to let other things get in the way. One of those things is my perfectionist idolatry: there have been parts of this that I felt I was not prepared to write well and I struggle with idolizing perfection. (My idolatrous perfectionism is actually one of the things that keeps me from writing more, which I know God is working on in me but my progress is slow.) Yet, lately, it has been coming back in full-force through many conversations with graduate students in my church. In fact, I lead a graduate student Bible study on Virginia Tech campus, and we are studying the Old Testament book Daniel, which has brought this back up over and over again. We are about to finish with Daniel 6, and again, I have been reminded of this subject and felt compelled to write, whether or not I am prepared to do it perfectly. So, this post will partially be a study in Daniel 6 and partially my musings on current cultural trends in light of God's Word and history, and then, next week, Lord willing, I will write another talking about how Daniel and other believes have been faithful under harsh times.

It is no secret that our current culture is pushing Christians to capitulate on its views of sexuality and sexual identity. Any Christian who upholds a biblical view of marriage and sexuality is labeled a "bigot" and "hateful," no matter how politely or lovingly they make their stand or even if they hold that view quietly, and any Christian who refuses to use their business to support any agenda of a sexual-progressive movement is sued and most are losing those suits (in this most recent case, even actor and vocal supporter of LGBT issues, Patrick Stuart, is against the ruling). In fact, even teaching the biblical view of sexuality in a Sunday school class might soon be labeled "extremist" and suppressed in the UK. And, some are coming right out and saying that anyone who descents from the culture's view of sexuality should be forced to comply with it. It seems our society is approaching a totalitarian state, where a particular worldview of sexuality is the only one allowed in the public square, which reminds us more of the Brave New World of Huxley or Orwell's 1984 than a democracy where individuals are supposedly given human rights. Now, I am not writing this to talk about the details of this cultural issue itself, transgender ideology, whether or not same-sex marriage should be legal, or anything like that. Others have written on the subject, and many have done a better job than I could. I want to look behind this and ask the question, "What is going on? Why is this happening? Is there anything behind this cultural push?" and hopefully provide some biblical and historical encouragement for Christians to follow Christ instead of culture.

That is why I started with a George Orwell quote. Many of you have probably read Animal Farm, and if you have not, I would be willing to bet you have at least heard of it. What you may not know is that Orwell wrote a preface to it that did not end up in the published work called "The Freedom of the Press," from which I quote above. In it, he talks about what we might call "cultural orthodoxy," which every culture has had, although it has taken many different forms. That cultural orthodoxy is, as Orwell writes, a body of ideas that all "right-thinking" people are assumed to hold, and anyone who descents from them in any way is never given a fair hearing, actively suppressed, and often persecuted. Sound familiar? It should. In Orwell's time, it was communist philosophy. In our time, in the West, it is sexual sovereignty: "I am sovereign over my own body and sexuality, and no one can tell me or believe otherwise." But, I think the real issue is not actually sexuality or really even cultural orthodoxy, per se: it is an issue of highest loyalty. To whom will we give our highest loyalty? The Kingdom of God or some kingdom of man?

Let me start with Daniel. Any Christian who grew up in the Church is familiar with Daniel 6: Daniel and the Lion's Den. It is a popular children's story, but, like almost all popular children's stories, it is often taught wrongly. It is often taught as "If you obey God and do what's right, everything will turn out fine for you." There is a grain of truth to that, but it depends on what we mean by "fine." Often by "fine" people mean that life will be generally comfortable and you will avoid most suffering. But, biblically-speaking, "fine" does not mean we will not suffer in this life; quite the contrary, actually. The biblical "fine" means God will use our suffering for our ultimate good, but we will still suffer. But, even that is not the point of the story. The point of the story comes out in the decree that the king is duped into making: "O King Darius, live forever! All the high officials of the kingdom, the prefects and the satraps, the counselors and the governors are agreed that the king should establish an ordinance and enforce an injunction, that whoever makes petition to any god or man for thirty days, except to you, O king, shall be cast into the den of lions." (vv. 6-7)

We look at that and on the surface are tempted to think it is about praying and worship. That is part of it, but ultimately it goes deeper. The ESV gets the translation right because it is about making a petition not just praying. Praying is certainly in that category, but asking a satrap for tax money to fix a road would be as well, which is why they qualify it with "any god or man." So, then what are these enemies of Daniel doing? They are appealing to the vanity of King Darius--to his desire to be the highest dependence and highest loyalty in Babylon. Whatever we depend upon most will be the thing to which we are most loyal--our highest loyalty. In essence, they are saying, "Make a law, King Darius, that for thirty days no one can have a higher loyalty than you; no one can be more dependent on anyone else than you." That would be a tempting prospect to anyone, and, indeed, it is the original temptation: "You will be like God." (Ge. 3:5) They know Darius will love the idea of being everyone's highest loyalty, and they know that Daniel will not give in to that command. That is why in v. 5 his enemies say to one another, "We shall not find any ground for complaint against this Daniel unless we find it in connection with the law of his God." Thus, they have set the trap: make the highest loyalty someone other than God and watch Daniel maintain his loyalty to God. It is a test of loyalty that they know Daniel will fail.

Such a situation is not unique in the history of God's people. This was also the main issue at stake when it came to the official Roman persecutions of Christians. (You can read my summary of early Church persecutions here.) The Romans were remarkably tolerant of religions, philosophies, worldviews, etc. so long as the Roman State was your highest loyalty. They deeply distrusted and hated anyone who had a higher loyalty than the State. If they ever found out that you had a higher loyalty than the State, you were persecuted, and that was exactly the issue that caused the first empire-wide persecutions of Christians from 250 AD onward. Before 250 AD, the persecutions of Christians were localized to various regions of the Empire, and they were not yet a matter of official Roman policy. Then, Emperior Decius came along. Decius issued a decree that commanded all people under Roman rule to offer a single sacrifice once a year to the Roman gods for the well-being of the emperor by burning incense before the local magistrate. When you did, you were given a libellus (the image above is a surviving libellus), which was your proof of sacrifice. If you could not present a libellus when ask for it, then you were sentenced to death. Do you see what he was doing? He was testing the loyalty of his people. If they were ultimately loyal to Rome, they would sacrifice, even if they also had other gods they served, but if they had a higher loyalty to their God, they would not sacrifice. The ones whose highest loyalty was not to the State could then be identified and erradicated. Rome was fine with your religious beliefs, so long as you were loyalty to it above all else. It was a test of loyalty that Decius knew many Christians would fail.

For Daniel and the early Christians, the test of cultural orthodoxy many have been different, but the underlying issue was the same: Who is your highest loyalty? Whom do you really serve above all else? And, what we are seeing today has the same underlying issue, even though the test of cultural orthodoxy is different. The real issue is not sexual autonomy. That is just a symptom of something deeper: a culture that deeply distrusts those who have a higher loyalty than the culture itself, e.g. Christians.

Our culture is fine with religious beliefs and "spirituality" and even encourages it, so long as those beliefs do not lead you to question the prevailing cultural dogma, so long as you pass the test of cultural orthodoxy. For, if you pass that test, it shows you are more loyal to the culture than you are your religious or spiritual beliefs. If you are willing to compromise on that one belief, it shows your highest loyalty is really to the culture; not the God of the Bible. Last year, Frank Bruni of the NY Times tipped this hand and revealed these cards in his article "Bigotry, the Bible and Lessons from Indiana." There he lays it on the line. He tells us that religious freedom is really "freeing religions and religious people from prejudices that they needn’t cling to and can indeed jettison, much as they’ve jettisoned other aspects of their faith’s history, rightly bowing to the enlightenments of modernity." I added emphasis to show you his bottom line: all people, religious or not, must bow to the "enlightenments of modernity," i.e. all people should be more loyal to the culture than their god, religous text, or spiritual beliefs. It is a test of loyalty: Is our highest loyalty to the culture (the "enlightenments of modernity") or to our God?

You see, friends, what we are seeing in culture is what Christians have experienced in all cultures in all times. It is just that the specifics of the test are different for us. Why do I point this out? For two reasons:

• First, we Christians need to be reminded of this so that we do not begin to think that we are going through something no other Christian community has. We are not. Our struggle is not unique. The true Church of God's people has never been on the "right side" of human history and has always been at odds with cultural orthodoxy. And, in those times where we seemed not to be at odds with the surrounding culture, I would argue that those are the times we have been least faithful to God and His Word. It was not because the test was not there but because we passed it (from the culture's perspective). I will talk more about this in the next post, but we need to remember that because then we can look back on history and see that God sustained His people during all those times and tests, no matter how bad the persecution became. He will do the same today. The gates of hell cannot prevail against the Church (Mt. 16:18). 
• Second, I want us to realize that whatever the test of cultural orthodoxy is, the issue at the base is always spiritual. The fundamental issue is not sexuality, communism, or petitions. It is always a test of whether or not we will worship God and depend on Him above all else, even if it costs us everything we have in this world. In fact, these were really the issues at stake in devil's temptations of Jesus. And, if we are going to follow Christ through these tests, we need to see them for what they really are: spiritual battles. We need to look past the arguments over sexuality and see what lies behind it: Will we trust God, believe His Word, make use of His means of grace to sustain and train us, and make Him our highest loyalty? That is the question that really matters. It was what mattered for Daniel, the early Church, and all other Christians throughout space and time. 

For now, I leave you with that to ponder. Next week, Lord willing, we will learn from Daniel and a little from Church history how we live as faithful Christians in the midst of these tests of cultural orthodoxy.

By His Grace,
Taylor

Augustine's Anti-Pelagian Writings

"Both by nature and by grace, Augustin was formed to be the champion of truth in this controversy. Of a naturally philosophical temperament, he saw into the springs of life with a vividness of mental perception to which most men are strangers; and his own experiences in his long life of resistance to, and then of yielding to, the drawings of God’s grace, gave him a clear apprehension of the great evangelic principle that God seeks men, not men God, such as no sophistry could cloud. However much his philosophy or theology might undergo change in other particulars, there was one conviction too deeply imprinted upon his heart ever to fade or alter,—the conviction of the ineffableness of God’s grace. Grace,—man’s absolute dependence on God as the source of all good,—this was the common, nay, the formative element, in all stages of his doctrinal development, which was marked only by the ever growing consistency with which he built his theology around this central principle." ~ B. B. Warfield, Introductory Essay on Augustin and the Pelagian Controversy

Those of you who know me well know that the writings of Augustine have had a huge impact on my development as a Christian—both spiritually and theologically. He has had such an enormous impact on me that I gave my son Gabriel the middle name "August" in his honor. In a recent post, I gave some recommended reading for 2013 and one of the books I suggested was Augustine's Anti-Pelagian Writings. To be honest, if I would have you read only one of Augustine's works, it would be his Confessions, but if I would have you read two, it would be his Confessions and his Anti-Pelagian Writings. Since the former is so much more commonly known, today I will focus on the latter. Below is a section of B. B. Warfield's introduction to the Anti-Pelagian Writings. It is only a small portion (the essay is quite long and included as an introduction to most versions of the Anti-Pelagian Writings) but it is enough to give you a taste of the theological importance of Augustine's efforts against Pelagius' heretical teachings. I hope it "wets your whistle" and inspires you to read this important collection of Augustine's work.

It was inevitable that the energy of the Church in intellectually realizing and defining its doctrines in relation to one another, should first be directed towards the objective side of Christian truth. The chief controversies of the first four centuries and the resulting definitions of doctrine, concerned the nature of God and the person of Christ; and it was not until these theological and Christological questions were well upon their way to final settlement, that the Church could turn its attention to the more subjective side of truth. Meanwhile she bore in her bosom a full recognition, side by side, of the freedom of the will, the evil consequences of the fall, and the necessity of divine grace for salvation. Individual writers, or even the several sections of the Church, might exhibit a tendency to throw emphasis on one or another of the elements that made up this deposit of faith that was the common inheritance of all. The East, for instance, laid especial stress on free will: and the West dwelt more pointedly on the ruin of the human race and the absolute need of God’s grace for salvation. But neither did the Eastern theologians forget the universal sinfulness and need of redemption, or the necessity, for the realization of that redemption, of God’s gracious influences; nor did those of the West deny the self-determination or accountability of men. All the elements of the composite doctrine of man were everywhere confessed; but they were variously emphasized, according to the temper of the writers or the controversial demands of the times. Such a state of affairs, however, was an invitation to heresy, and a prophecy of controversy; just as the simultaneous confession of the unity of God and the Deity of Christ, or of the Deity and the humanity of Christ, inevitably carried in its train a series of heresies and controversies, until the definitions of the doctrines of the Trinity and of the person of Christ were complete. In like manner, it was inevitable that sooner or later some one should arise who would so one-sidedly emphasize one element or the other of the Church’s teaching as to salvation, as to throw himself into heresy, and drive the Church, through controversy with him, into a precise definition of the doctrines of free will and grace in their mutual relations.

This new heresiarch came, at the opening of the fifth century, in the person of the British monk, Pelagius. The novelty of the doctrine which he taught is repeatedly asserted by Augustin, and is evident to the historian; but it consisted not in the emphasis that he laid on free will, but rather in the fact that, in emphasizing free will, he denied the ruin of the race and the necessity of grace. This was not only new in Christianity; it was even anti-Christian. Jerome, as well as Augustin, saw this at the time, and speaks of Pelagianism as the “heresy of Pythagoras and Zeno;” and modern writers of the various schools have more or less fully recognized it. Thus Dean Milman thinks that “the greater part” of Pelagius’ letter to Demetrias “might have been written by an ancient academic;” Dr. De Pressensé identifies the Pelagian idea of liberty with that of Paganism; and Bishop Hefele openly declares that their fundamental doctrine, “that man is virtuous entirely of his own merit, not of the gift of grace,” seems to him “to be a rehabilitation of the general heathen view of the world,” and compares with it Cicero’s words: “For gold, lands, and all the blessings of life, we have to return thanks to the Gods; but no one ever returned thanks to the Gods for virtues.” The struggle with Pelagianism was thus in reality a struggle for the very foundations of Christianity; and even more dangerously than in the previous theological and Christological controversies, here the practical substance of Christianity was in jeopardy. The real question at issue was whether there was any need for Christianity at all; whether by his own power man might not attain eternal felicity; whether the function of Christianity was to save, or only to render an eternity of happiness more easily attainable by man.

Genetically speaking, Pelagianism was the daughter of legalism; but when it itself conceived, it brought forth an essential deism. It is not without significance that its originators were “a certain sort of monks;” that is, laymen of ascetic life. From this point of view the Divine law is looked upon as a collection of separate commandments, moral perfection as a simple complex of separate virtues, and a distinct value as a meritorious demand on Divine approbation is ascribed to each good work or attainment in the exercises of piety. It was because this was essentially his point of view that Pelagius could regard man’s powers as sufficient to the attainment of sanctity,—nay, that he could even assert it to be possible for a man to do more than was required of him. But this involved an essentially deistic conception of man’s relations to his Maker. God had endowed His creature with a capacity (possibilitas) or ability (posse) for action, and it was for him to use it. Man was thus a machine, which, just because it was well made, needed no Divine interference for its right working; and the Creator, having once framed him, and endowed him with the posse, henceforth leaves the velle and the esse to him.

At this point we have touched the central and formative principle of Pelagianism. It lies in the assumption of the plenary ability of man; his ability to do all that righteousness can demand,—to work out not only his own salvation, but also his own perfection. This is the core of the whole theory; and all the other postulates not only depend upon it, but arise out of it. Both chronologically and logically this is the root of the system.

When we first hear of Pelagius, he is already advanced in years, living in Rome in the odour of sanctity, and enjoying a well-deserved reputation for zeal in exhorting others to a good life, which grew especially warm against those who endeavoured to shelter themselves, when charged with their sins, behind the weakness of nature. He was outraged by the universal excuses on such occasions,—“It is hard!” “it is difficult!” “we are not able!” “we are men!”—“Oh, blind madness!” he cried: “we accuse God of a twofold ignorance,—that He does not seem to know what He has made, nor what He has commanded,—as if forgetting the human weakness of which He is Himself the Author, He has imposed laws on man which He cannot endure.” He himself tells us that it was his custom, therefore, whenever he had to speak on moral improvement and the conduct of a holy life, to begin by pointing out the power and quality of human nature, and by showing what it was capable of doing. For (he says) he esteemed it of small use to exhort men to what they deemed impossible: hope must rather be our companion, and all longing and effort die when we despair of attaining. So exceedingly ardent an advocate was he of man’s unaided ability to do all that God commanded, that when Augustin’s noble and entirely scriptural prayer—“Give what Thou commandest, and command what Thou wilt”—was repeated in his hearing, he was unable to endure it; and somewhat inconsistently contradicted it with such violence as almost to become involved in a strife. The powers of man, he held, were gifts of God; and it was, therefore, a reproach against Him as if He had made man ill or evil, to believe that they were insufficient for the keeping of His law. Nay, do what we will, we cannot rid ourselves of their sufficiency: “whether we will, or whether we will not, we have the capacity of not sinning.” “I say,” he says, “that man is able to be without sin, and that he is able to keep the commandments of God;” and this sufficiently direct statement of human ability is in reality the hinge of his whole system.

There were three specially important corollaries which flowed from this assertion of human ability, and Augustin himself recognized these as the chief elements of the system. It would be inexplicable on such an assumption, if no man had ever used his ability in keeping God’s law; and Pelagius consistently asserted not only that all might be sinless if they chose, but also that many saints, even before Christ, had actually lived free from sin. Again, it follows from man’s inalienable ability to be free from sin, that each man comes into the world without entailment of sin or moral weakness from the past acts of men; and Pelagius consistently denied the whole doctrine of original sin. And still again, it follows from the same assumption of ability that man has no need of supernatural assistance in his striving to obey righteousness; and Pelagius consistently denied both the need and reality of divine grace in the sense of an inward help (and especially of a prevenient help) to man’s weakness.

It was upon this last point that the greatest stress was laid in the controversy, and Augustin was most of all disturbed that thus God’s grace was denied and opposed. No doubt the Pelagians spoke constantly of “grace,” but they meant by this the primal endowment of man with free will, and the subsequent aid given him in order to its proper use by the revelation of the law and the teaching of the gospel, and, above all, by the forgiveness of past sins in Christ and by Christ’s holy example. Anything further than this external help they utterly denied; and they denied that this external help itself was absolutely necessary, affirming that it only rendered it easier for man to do what otherwise he had plenary ability for doing. Chronologically, this contention seems to have preceded the assertion which must logically lie at its base, of the freedom of man from any taint, corruption, or weakness due to sin. It was in order that they might deny that man needed help, that they denied that Adam’s sin had any further effect on his posterity than might arise from his bad example. “Before the action of his own proper will,” said Pelagius plainly, “that only is in man which God made.” “As we are procreated without virtue,” he said, “so also without vice.” In a word, “Nothing that is good and evil, on account of which we are either praiseworthy or blameworthy, is born with us,—it is rather done by us; for we are born with capacity for either, but provided with neither.” So his later follower, Julian, plainly asserts his “faith that God creates men obnoxious to no sin, but full of natural innocence, and with capacity for voluntary virtues.” So intrenched is free will in nature, that, according to Julian, it is “just as complete after sins as it was before sins;” and what this means may be gathered from Pelagius’ definition in the “Confession of Faith,” that he sent to Innocent: “We say that man is always able both to sin and not to sin, so as that we may confess that we have free will.” That sin in such circumstances was so common as to be well-nigh universal, was accounted for by the bad example of Adam and the power of habit, the latter being simply the result of imitation of the former. “Nothing makes well-doing so hard,” writes Pelagius to Demetrias, “as the long custom of sins which begins from childhood and gradually brings us more and more under its power until it seems to have in some degree the force of nature (vim naturæ).” He is even ready to allow for the force of habit in a broad way, on the world at large; and so divides all history into progressive periods, marked by God’s (external) grace. At first the light of nature was so strong that men by it alone could live in holiness. And it was only when men’s manners became corrupt and tarnished nature began to be insufficient for holy living, that by God’s grace the Law was given as an addition to mere nature; and by it “the original lustre was restored to nature after its blush had been impaired.” And so again, after the habit of sinning once more prevailed among men, and “the law became unequal to the task of curing it,” Christ was given, furnishing men with forgiveness of sins, exhortations to imitation of the example and the holy example itself. But though thus a progressive deterioration was confessed, and such a deterioration as rendered desirable at least two supernatural interpositions (in the giving of the law and the coming of Christ), yet no corruption of nature, even by growing habit, is really allowed. It was only an ever-increasing facility in imitating vice which arose from so long a schooling in evil; and all that was needed to rescue men from it was a new explanation of what was right (in the law), or, at the most, the encouragement of forgiveness for what was already done, and a holy example (in Christ) for imitation. Pelagius still asserted our continuous possession of “a free will which is unimpaired for sinning and for not sinning;” and Julian, that “our free will is just as full after sins as it was before sins;” although Augustin does not fail to twit him with a charge of inconsistency.

The peculiar individualism of the Pelagian view of the world comes out strongly in their failure to perceive the effect of habit on nature itself. Just as they conceived of virtue as a complex of virtuous acts, so they conceived of sin exclusively as an act, or series of disconnected acts. They appear not to have risen above the essentially heathen view which had no notion of holiness apart from a series of acts of holiness, or of sin apart from a like series of sinful acts. Thus the will was isolated from its acts, and the acts from each other, and all organic connection or continuity of life was not only overlooked but denied. After each act of the will, man stood exactly where he did before: indeed, this conception scarcely allows for the existence of a “man”—only a willing machine is left, at each click of the action of which the spring regains its original position, and is equally ready as before to reperform its function. In such a conception there was no place for character: freedom of will was all. Thus it was not an unnatural mistake which they made, when they forgot the man altogether, and attributed to the faculty of free will, under the name of “possibilitas” or “posse,” the ability that belonged rather to the man whose faculty it is, and who is properly responsible for the use he makes of it. Here lies the essential error of their doctrine of free will: they looked upon freedom in its form only, and not in its matter; and, keeping man in perpetual and hopeless equilibrium between good and evil, they permitted no growth of character and no advantage to himself to be gained by man in his successive choices of good. It need not surprise us that the type of thought which thus dissolved the organism of the man into a congeries of disconnected voluntary acts, failed to comprehend the solidarity of the race. To the Pelagian, Adam was a man, nothing more; and it was simply unthinkable that any act of his that left his own subsequent acts uncommitted, could entail sin and guilt upon other men. The same alembic that dissolved the individual into a succession of voluntary acts, could not fail to separate the race into a heap of unconnected units. If sin, as Julian declared, is nothing but will, and the will itself remained intact after each act, how could the individual act of an individual will condition the acts of men as yet unborn? By “imitation” of his act alone could (under such a conception) other men be affected. And this carried with it the corresponding view of man’s relation to Christ. He could forgive us the sins we had committed; He could teach us the true way; He could set us a holy example; and He could exhort us to its imitation. But He could not touch us to enable us to will the good, without destroying the absolute equilibrium of the will between good and evil; and to destroy this was to destroy its freedom, which was the crowning good of our divinely created nature. Surely the Pelagians forgot that man was not made for will, but will for man.

In defending their theory, as we are told by Augustin, there were five claims that they especially made for it. It allowed them to praise as was their due, the creature that God had made, the marriage that He had instituted, the law that He had given, the free will which was His greatest endowment to man, and the saints who had followed His counsels. By this they meant that they proclaimed the sinless perfection of human nature in every man as he was brought into the world, and opposed this to the doctrine of original sin; the purity and holiness of marriage and the sexual appetites, and opposed this to the doctrine of the transmission of sin; the ability of the law, as well as and apart from the gospel, to bring men into eternal life, and opposed this to the necessity of inner grace; the integrity of free will to choose the good, and opposed this to the necessity of divine aid; and the perfection of the lives of the saints, and opposed this to the doctrine of universal sinfulness. Other questions, concerning the origin of souls, the necessity of baptism for infants, the original immortality of Adam, lay more on the skirts of the controversy, and were rather consequences of their teaching than parts of it. As it was an obvious fact that all men died, they could not admit that Adam’s death was a consequence of sin lest they should be forced to confess that his sin had injured all men; they therefore asserted that physical death belonged to the very nature of man, and that Adam would have died even had he not sinned. So, as it was impossible to deny that the Church everywhere baptized infants, they could not refuse them baptism without confessing themselves innovators in doctrine; and therefore they contended that infants were not baptized for forgiveness of sins, but in order to attain a higher state of salvation. Finally, they conceived that if it was admitted that souls were directly created by God for each birth, it could not be asserted that they came into the world soiled by sin and under condemnation; and therefore they loudly championed this theory of the origin of souls.

The teachings of the Pelagians, it will be readily seen, easily welded themselves into a system, the essential and formative elements of which were entirely new in the Christian Church; and this startlingly new reading of man’s condition, powers, and dependence for salvation, it was, that broke like a thunderbolt upon the Western Church at the opening of the fifth century, and forced her to reconsider, from the foundations, her whole teaching as to man and his salvation.

Augustine's anti-Pelagian writings are available for free all over the web. Here is the link to the CCEL version, which gives you a number of formats (online, PDF, plain text file, etc.), and here is a .mobi version that you can use on your Kindle, which you can get for free on any smart phone. I hope the above section of B. B. Warfield's introduction to them inspires you to read them. They will bless your soul, expand your mind, and magnify the glory of the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ in your heart.

By His Grace,
Taylor

Jesus' Wife? Really?

"Jesus was married. None. There is nothing about Jesus being married in the canonical gospels, in apocryphal gospels, in the church fathers, or anywhere else. Even if this new gospel claims that Jesus was married, it is out of step with all the other credible historical evidence we have about his life." ~ "The Far Less Sensational Truth about Jesus' 'Wife'" Michael J. Kruger, Professor of New Testament at Reformed Theological Seminary in Charlotte, NC

I am sure many of you have read the recent articles that have been entitled things like "Jesus said, 'My wife'" or "A Faded Piece of Papyrus Refers to Jesus' Wife." Somehow discoveries like this seem to get a lot of media hype. I suppose it is because the media cannot get enough alternative versions of Jesus' life and love to give them historical value equal to the NT Gospels. (I have written about this type of discovery and media reaction here.)

Below I am going to give you some resources that go into much more depth than I do, but here are a few things to remember. First, this fragment is from the fourth century AD (Update: recent studies push it back to the eighth or ninth century AD). That means it was written about 300 (Update: 700-800) years after Jesus incarnation, death, resurrection, and ascension. Even if this fragment were to be authenticated, it was written way too late to take seriously. Even Karen King, the scholar who revealed the fragment, gives this caution. Furthermore, we have no way to identify the genre of literature from which this fragment came. We have no idea whether the original author was even claiming to record history. Given its date and the lack of information about its genre, giving this fragment historical weight is somewhat analogous to a historian fifteen-hundred years from now discovering fragments of "Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter" and publishing a paper entitled "Ancient US President Lincoln May Have Slayed More Than Just Slavery," even though all historical evidence points to the contrary. There is no reason to give credence to this fragment when the full NT Gospels (dated to the first century!) and all other earlier historical evidence all indicate the contrary.

If you want more detailed information, here are some resources:

• Quote from above: "The Far Less Sensational Truth about Jesus' 'Wife'," by Dr. Michael Kruger
• NT Manuscripts
• "Did Jesus have a wife?", RTB Kenneth Samples' Science News Flash
• "An Ancient Manuscript and Jesus’ Wife?", by Dr. Jeffery Gibbs

By His Grace,
Taylor

A Summary of Persecutions

"There is no greater drama in human record than the sight of a few Christians scorned or oppressed by a succession of emperors, bearing all trials by a fierce tenacity, multiplying quietly, building order while their enemies generated chaos, fighting the sword with the Word, brutality with hope, and at last defeating the strongest state that history has ever know. Caesar and Christ had met in the arena and Christ had won." ~ Will Durant, The Story of Civilization, Vol III: Caesar and Christ (pg. 652)

Back in February I wrote a post called "The Drama of Persecution." Since then, it has continued to be one of the more popular posts on my blog and has sparked some good discussion with friends. I thought it might be helpful to summarize the persecutions that the Church went through in the first four centuries.

The early Church historian Eusebius claims that there were ten persecutions of the early Church from the time of Christ to his time (fourth century)—those under Nero, Domitian, Trajan, Marcus Aurelius, Septimius Severus, Decius, Valerian, Gallienus, Diocletian, and Galerius. This is not entirely accurate. This does not include the persecution by the Jews or the persecutions of the emperors after Constantine like Licinius and Julian, but it certainly covers the majority of the persecutions. Modern historian Philip Schaff suggests that this traditional number was proposed because of an allusion to the ten plagues of Egypt or the ten horns of the Beast making war with the Lamb. Later Church fathers like Augustine also rejected this number. Augustine rejected the attempt to number the persecutions at all: "When I think of these and the like things, it does not seem to me that the number of persecutions with which the church is to be tried can be definitely stated." I think Augustine is right in that it is difficult to establish lines defining persecutions in compartments of history. I think, however, when looking at the persecutions of the early Church it is helpful to think of them in five major sections—the persecution by the Jews, persecution by the Empire before 250 AD, persecution by the Empire after 250 AD, the Great Persecution under Diocletian, and, finally, persecution after Milan.
                           
The Jewish Persecution
The first mode of persecution that the Church encountered was not from the Roman Empire but from the Jewish people, which lasted from about AD 33 to AD 64 (though there were residual persecutions of the Christians by the Jews after this time). At this time the Christians were still considered a sect of Judaism and therefore the Romans were content to leave the situation up to the Jews. The Jews persecuted the Christians because to the Jews the Christians were blasphemous and their blasphemy was spreading quickly. The Jews could not counter the Christian movement with debate and turned to physical persecution, as is shown in Acts 6 with Stephen, the first martyr.

When the Jews accused Stephen, they twisted his words and the words of Christ to make it seem like he was malevolent towards the Jews. Stephen responded not with malevolent words but with a reasoned argument. The Jews hated what he said and stoned him. While they were stoning him, he did not respond with a vengeful spirit but instead asked God to forgive him. Such was the reaction of many of the martyrs in the early Church.

Another that the Jews martyred was James "the Righteous," or James "the Just." He was the brother of Christ and one the elders at Jerusalem. He was also martyred for blasphemy but not in the same way. He was taken by the Sanhedrin and questioned before many people. The Sanhedrin tried to coax him into saying that Christ was not the Messiah knowing, since so many respected James, if he did deny Christ many would follow. He did not do as they wanted, in fact people were beginning to listen to him so they threw him down and stoned him. As they were stoning him, he was praying for them and one person watching even shouted, "Stop! The Righteous One is praying for you." At that, they busted his head with a club.

Most of the Jewish persecutions were designed to eliminate the competition of Christ. They saw Christ as blasphemous and to make matters worse, many were becoming Christians. They tried to scare people away by persecuting the Christian leaders. There were others killed by the Jews but these two descriptions show their plan in persecution and the way that the persecuted responded to their assaults.

Persecution by the Romans
There were several reasons why the Romans persecuted the Christians but they all were related to the fact that the Romans viewed the Christians as disloyal and just very odd. The Romans considered themselves generally very tolerant. There were many religions in Rome that were sanctioned; they did not have a problem with almost any religion as long as it did not come between the religious followers and the Roman state. They tested this loyalty and united Rome in one common religious practice by instigating a state religion—emperor worship. If you complied with this, you were generally okay in the eyes of the Romans.

The Christians were seen as disloyal for four basic reasons. First, God is not content to be one of many gods so the Christians would not sacrifice to the emperor. They were not fulfilling the one Roman religious request—emperor worship. Second, the Christians would not serve in the military because of an aversion for blood shed. This made it appear that they did not care about the protection of the state. Next, the Christians would not normally hold a state office, again making it appear that they did not care about the good of the state. Finally, the Christians met at night or early in the morning! No one was allowed in their secret meetings except the baptized! This kind of secrecy did not sit well with the Roman government. The Christians had a higher allegiance than the emperor and they were very secretive. This made it appear to the Romans that the Christians were trying to form a state within the state.

The Christians were also viewed as just plain odd. There were rumors of incest in their secret meetings. This was probably just the "Kiss of Peace" or "greet one another with a holy kiss," but if you had never been to a meeting, already were a little suspicious, and heard about brother kissing brother you might construe this to be incestuous. They were also accused of being cannibals. The Christians got together in their secret meetings and ate the flesh of their leader! They drank His blood! This reaction is, again, somewhat understandable if you were not allowed to go to their meetings and heard someone say that their leader said to eat His body in remembrance of Him.

Barry Baldwin makes an interesting statement about one other possible Roman motivation for their distrust of Christians. He asserts that since Christ was a Jew, the Romans were more suspicious. The Jews were tough adversaries. Like the Christians, the Jews believed in one god, while the Romans accepted many. According to Baldwin this did not help their reputation in the eyes of the Romans. He says, "The Romans respected tough enemies and none came tougher than the Jews. This allied with their uncompromising religion—a source of puzzlement and resentment to the more theologically complacent Romans—had an important consequence. The Romans would have been much less worried by Christ and his message had He not been a Jew."

All of the above gave the Romans reason to hate the strange Christians. It also allowed the Romans to use the Christians as scapegoats. The times and levels of persecution varied throughout the early Church's history but the reasons for each persecution were not very unique. They mostly stemmed from suspicion of the Christians and their perception that the Christians were just very different, too different.

Persecution by the Empire before 250 AD
The reason that 250 AD was chosen for a dividing line is that before this time persecution was sporadic and not empire-wide. There was a great deal of persecution and it was very brutal at times, but it was localized and not all-encompassing.

Nero was the first emperor to persecute the Christians. His persecution is often portrayed as the worst, but this was not the case when one considers the breadth of later persecutions. While Nero himself was particularly brutal and did initiate the first persecution of the Christians, his persecution was localized mainly to the city of Rome itself. It appears that he first instigated persecution in order to take the focus off himself. There was a fire in Rome in 64 AD that destroyed much of the city and it was rumored that Nero had set the fire himself. (This we know from Tacitus.) Since there was already a great deal of mistrust of the Christians, Nero saw them as a perfect place to shift the blame. He accused the Christians of setting the fire that destroyed much of Rome and instigated persecution of them. No one really knows whether or not Nero set the fire, but it is fairly clear that he instigated the persecution to take the blame off himself, whether this blame was deserved or not. It was at this time that it became officially illegal to be a Christian in Rome. Nero had Paul executed by beheading and had Peter crucified. It is also said that Nero burned Christians as lights for his garden. Fortunately, Nero did not live much longer after he instigated persecution—he died in 68 AD.

Domitian ruled from 80 to 96 AD. Persecution did not break out under his reign until 95 AD and the motive is not completely clear but we can infer a few things. At this time, Christians still would not sacrifice to the emperor and swear loyalties to him. This was particularly an insult to Domitian because he, unlike most of the other emperors before him, actually thought of himself as a god. He even had the senate address him as one. Therefore, the Christians denying sacrifice to him was probably a great personal insult. There is also evidence of a coup around this time. This made Domitian very paranoid. That combined with the insult of the Christians not worshiping him could have been his motive for persecution. He instigated a reign of terror, but it was mostly confined to the city of Rome. Many Christians were killed during this time, but again, it did not last very long since he died in 96 AD.

Trajan was the next emperor of Rome to persecute the Christians. His was unique because he was the first emperor to initiate an organized persecution of the Christians. We can see this in a letter from Pliny, governor of Bithynia. He wrote to Trajan detailing the way he was handling the very annoying Christians in his area. The tone of his letter suggests that he was looking for a "pat on the back," as if he was adhering well to Trajan’s policy. Trajan did not want Christians to be actively hunted, but if they were accused then they were to be brought to trial. At their trial the Christian was to be asked three times if he was a Christian. If he answered yes to all three, he was convicted and sentence to execution. Many Christians died under the reign of Trajan, but they died proudly, standing up for their faith in Christ. Eusebius mentions that when Simon, the Bishop of Jerusalem, was asked if he was a Christian he immediately answered yes three times. He did not seem to see the point in hearing the same question multiple times and made it immediately clear that he was a Christian. Ignatius, Bishop of Antioch, was also executed during the reign of Trajan. Ignatius welcomed martyrdom and actually spoke out against anyone trying to save him. Trajan’s persecution lasted from 110 AD to 115 AD.

Marcus Aurelius ruled about 50 years after Trajan from 161 to 180. It is possible that Christians would not have received much persecution from Aurelius had it not been for Fronto, Aurelius’s stoic teacher. (There is evidence in several manuscripts discovered in 1815 that Fronto and Aurelius were lovers, which, if true, would add passion into the motive.) Several key figures were martyred under Aurelius’s reign including Polycarp and Justin. Polycarp met his martyrdom with dignity and honor and never once dishonored Christ. It is reported by Eusebius that when Polycarp was set upon the pillar and burned that the flame flowed around him like a sail. A soldier had to stab him in order to kill him. In 177, there was a massive execution in Gaul. More than 100 men, women, and children were rounded up and sent to be executed in an amphitheater. Many of those apostatized, and those that did not were brutally tortured and killed. Eusebius describes the torture and death of a slave girl, Blandina. Blandina was first tortured for more than a day until her torturers were exhausted and could think of nothing else to do to her. She was then placed on a cross as food for beasts, but they would not touch her. She was then tortured again beside a young boy whom she encouraged to keep the faith. She was then thrown to a bull. None of these things killed her or made her deny Christ. She was finally executed having beaten those who tried to get her to apostatize. Another man was made to sit in a red-hot iron chair and baked to death. While he was in the chair he said, "Look, you say we are bloodthirsty but you are cooking me." Clearly, the charge of cannibalism was probably on his mind. During this persecution there were many who turned away from Christ, but there were many more that stood firm for the Lord and, in the face of horrible torture, never denied their Savior.

Severus ruled from 193 to 211. Severus’s policy against the Christians was not personal, but he did not do much to hinder the populace from enforcing the laws on Christians that had existed long before his reign. It is said that Severus actually had some Christians in his household and protected them but this is uncertain. There were many executions across the Empire during the time of Severus—in Alexandria, Thebaid, Lyon, Eqypt, Madaura, and several other places. Eusebius describes the numbers by saying, "untold numbers were being wreathed with martyrs' crowns." Leonides, thought to be Origen's father, was martyred under the reign of Severus.

Persecution by the Empire after 250
It was in this period that persecution was no longer localized in small areas but empire-wide as a matter of policy. It was often the deliberate policy of the emperors to persecute the Christians in all areas of the Empire. This was the darkest time in the persecution of the Church not only because the persecutions were so harsh but also because many apostatized because of the harshness.

The first to make a deliberate, empire-wide persecution of the Church was Decius, 249 to 251. Decius believed that Rome could only survive if the classical culture was restored. Christians were a constant menace to this because they refused to sacrifice to the Roman gods, particularly the emperor himself. Decius issued an edict that all had to offer a sacrificeto the Roman gods for the well-being of the emperor before the local magistrate and receive a libellus (a proof of sacrifice). This had to be done once a year. If you could not present a libellus, then you were sentenced to death. Many Christians would not sacrifice and a great deal of persecution followed. The Bishops of Rome, Antioch and Jerusalem were executed as well as many others. Not all Christians, however, withstood this storm. Many bought their libellus on the black market. They did not actually sacrifice but told the government that they did. Others went even further and actually sacrificed. This persecution was the first to actually weaken the Church. The estimate of martyrs during this time is high, in the thousands. The estimate of apostasies, however, is even higher than that. Soon after this started, however, Decius met an early but providential demise. His edict died with him.

The next emperor to issue and empire-wide persecution was Valerian. In 258, he issued decrees that all bishops had to sacrifice and forbade Christians from assembling. Many bishops, presbyters, and deacons were martyred during this time—Cyprian of Carthage, Fructuosus of Tarragona, Lawrence of Rome, and many others. Death was not the only punishment. Many Christians in the imperial household were sent in chains to perform forced labor on the imperial domains. These edicts were hard on Christians, but taken in comparison to some of the others of the past this was not the worst persecution the Church had suffered.

The final emperor in this section is Gallienus, 260 to 268. Under Gallienus persecution actually seemed to die down. There were still persecutions and martyrdoms throughout the empire but not to the scale of the recent past.

The Great Persecution
It is said that the sea is always the most calm right before the storm. This could be applied to the relationship between the Christians and the Roman state until Diocletian,287 to 305.

In 297, the Great Persecution began. It was a result of a few Christians and a pagan ceremony gone bad. The ceremony produced a bad omen after several Christians had made the sign of the cross at the ceremony. The pagans blamed the Christians for the bad omen and thus started the Great Persecution.

Diocletian was pressed by Galerius to issue official persecution and in 303; he did in the form of four edicts. The first edict in 303 was to terminate Christianity. During other persecutions up until this point there had been an element of toleration, however small, but with this edict any idea of toleration was crushed. Christian churches were burned and many Bible texts were destroyed. Later, the second edict was issued that called for the imprisonment of all clergy. So many clergy were imprisoned that the jails ran out of room. Then, in the third edict, Diocletian decided to offer amnesty at the price of a sacrifice to the Roman gods. Very few took him up on this offer. So, Diocletian issued the death penalty for any who would not sacrifice or any Christian caught in any kind of religious activity. His goal was to destroy anything and everything associated with Christianity. Some Christians reacted as boldly and heroically as those who had come before them. Some faltered and sacrificed. Others fought back. In particular, some Christians in Nicamadea burned one of Diocletian’s palaces. Diocletian prompted responded by rounding up 268 Christians and executing them.

When Diocletian retired, in 305, Galerius took his place in the East and Constantius took the place of Maximian in the West. Galerius continued the heavy persecution of the Church but Constantius was less brutal. He seemed to be content to simply burn a few churches.

In 311 Galerius was struck with a severe illness. Under pressure from his wife, he issued an edict of toleration to all Christians. He even asked Christians to pray for him. This edict continued until Maximus replaced Galerius. He tried to reinstitute the persecutions but had little success. Thus ended the Great Persecution.

Persecution after Milan
This dividing line was chosen because of the importance of the Edict of Milan. After Constantine defeated Maxintius at Milvia, in 313, the Edict of Milan was issued. This edict declared Christianity to be a legal religion. The Church thought this would be the end of persecution but it was not quite yet.

Linsinius, Constantine’s ally, reinstated persecution in 314. Constantine would not have this and attacked Linsinius and defeated him. Strangely enough, however, Constantine allowed Linsinius to keep the region of Thrace under his control. Linsinius, again, reinstated persecution. Constantine came back in 324 and crushed Linsinius, keeping the entire Empire for himself.

Finally, in 360 Julian the Apostate tried to bring back the supremacy of the pagan religions and reinstitute persecution of the Church. Julian is called "the Apostate" because he was supposedly a Christian and converted to paganism. However, from private letters sent to Libanius we can gather that Julian was never really a Christian. Upon his "conversion" to Theurgy he tried to re-emerge the Hellenistic culture of the old Roman Empire. His persecution was not designed so much to destroy Christianity but to drive it out of public office and put the power of Christianity back into the pagan hands, the state that it was in before the Edict of Milan.

The Early Church and its Martyrs
In the beginning, the early church gave a great deal of respect to its martyrs and it was rightly deserved. Their veneration for the martyrs and their faith was natural for a culture that was growing up in persecution. There was a battle between Christ and the state and every time a martyr was made Christ won. Martyrdom was viewed so highly that it was even sought by some as a goal. It was often said of martyrs that they "found fulfillment" in their death. Eusebius tells the story of Origen's childhood and tells how his mother had to restrain him from following his father's footsteps and plunging head-first into martyrdom. Soon, however, the laud rose to an un-Scriptural level and eventually degenerated to worship of the martyrs and their relics.

In a letter from Polycarp in 155, he shows the initial respect for the martyrs. His letter does not really show signs of an unhealthy admiration but this was still early on in the Church. Polycarp says, "...we can neither ever forsake Christ, who has suffered for the salvation of the whole world of the redeemed, nor worship another. Him indeed we adore as the Son of God; but the martyrs we love as they deserve for their surpassing love to their King and Master, as we wish also to be their companions and fellow-disciples." During this time, not only the martyrs were paid particular respect but those who were imprisoned or tortured were also admired. Those who survived persecution had an equally greater respect for those who were martyred. Eusebius reports that when they returned to their church, if people tried to call them martyrs they would rebuke them saying that they did not deserve such admiration. Once they were reintegrated into their church their voices carried much more weight than the average member. This shows the hero view of the martyrs and the sense of respect that was given them by the Church. Soon this respect turned into a kind of deification.

Soon the Church not only began to regard the martyrs with high respect but also their remains and any kind of relics they left behind. Polycarp's bones were considered of highest value to the church in Smyrna. Other martyrs' remains were treated the same way. Their possessions were viewed as relics and eventually were thought to contain healing powers. The British historian Bede relays a story of the Bishop of Gaul going to Britain and performing miracles by the power of bones from a martyr.

The regard of the martyrs as heroes evolved into viewing them as superhuman but sub-deity. In the third century, the blood of the martyr was thought to be a cleansing substitution for baptism. Their own blood and the fire of the stake were thought by some to atone for the sins of the martyr. Later it was thought that the grace that the martyrs received was ample and that it could be shared with others for atonement, thus almost replacing Christ with the martyr. It was even thought that, much like the saints, the prayers of martyrs carried more weight than those of the normal Christian. Respect had grown so great that the Church could not see flaws in its own doctrine.

Well, that is a relatively brief summary of the early Church persecutions ("relatively" brief because, though this is one of my longer posts, it does cover 350 years fairly quickly). I hope it has given you a better idea of how God spread the Church in the midst of, even because of at times, persecution. It was said that the blood of the martyrs was the seed of the Church. I think that is true.

This has been a historical overview. If you want my theological overview, see my earlier post on the subject.

By His Grace,
Taylor

First Century Codices or Media Hype (Again...)

"The mainstream media need to do a much better job of checking in on academic blogs and other social media tools that are readily at their disposal. They need to be more skeptical, in general, and specifically when dealing with obvious problems. Antiquities fraud is a serious issue and the model of hyping a discovery in the press is a common route for less-than-savory characters involved in the trade. It’s understandable that a reporter and editors can be had, but when they discover they’ve been had, they need to correct quickly." ~ Mollie Ziegler in her recent post: "It’s all Greek to me(dia)?"

I assume that most of you have seen the media hype about some alleged codices discovered in a Jordanian cave that could be the "earliest Christian writings in existence". I will admit, when I first saw the article I got pretty excited because discovering documents from the first century would be an incredible find. However, I was a little wary when I read the BBC reporter saying, "They could, just possibly, change our understanding of how Jesus was crucified and resurrected, and how Christianity was born." No such claims were being made by any of the people who actually had seen the relics. After some waiting and reading, it seems I should have been even more skeptical.

Recently several of the scholars quoted in various articles have stated that they were misquoted to make the discovery sound genuine when they retained a healthy attitude of skepticism awaiting further confirmation. Others have called into question David Elkington's credentials (the man who is making grand claims about this discovery). Still others have pointed out the discrepancies in the claims. Peter Thonemann of Oxford has even staked his career on them being forgeries and has backed up his statement with pretty good evidence. He actually received pictures of the codices from Elkington last year, analyzed the Greek, and concluded that "the text on the bronze tablet was copied directly from the inscription in the museum at Amman by someone who did not understand the meaning of the text of the inscription, but was simply looking for a plausible-looking sequence of Greek letters to copy." Elkington failed to mention that in his press release and the media did not do much digging before it reported the find.

It still remains to be seen if Dr. Thonemann is right (the Greek in the images is really hard to read so I cannot confirm his transcription) but the case for the codices authenticity is not looking good. Again, we have another example of hype in the media. Unfortunately, the outlets that ramped up the hype have not retracted anything or even given air-time to those who doubt the authenticity of the codices. I agree with Mollie Ziegler's conclusions in her post. In general, the media does need to be more skeptical of claims, they need to not claim more than the scholars who present discoveries claim, they need to report the dissenting views, and they certainly need to have the courage to retract claims they have made when serious doubt is cast on discoveries they report on (though they rarely do).

By His Grace,
Taylor

The Drama of Persecution

"There is no greater drama in human record than the sight of a few Christians scorned or oppressed by a succession of emperors, bearing all trials by a fierce tenacity, multiplying quietly, building order while their enemies generated chaos, fighting the sword with the Word, brutality with hope, and at last defeating the strongest state that history has ever know. Caesar and Christ had met in the arena and Christ had won." ~ Will Durant, The Story of Civilization, Vol III: Caesar and Christ (pg. 652)

Tertullian of the late 2^nd century Church said, "The blood of the martyrs was the seed of the Church." I think there is a lot of merit to this statement both during Tertullian’s time and today. The word "martyr" in the Bible also could be translated "witness," which I think is fitting in the case of the majority of the martyrs of the early Church.

The endurance of the martyrs did not go unnoticed in the Roman Empire. Justin Martyr himself was brought to belief in Christ by the witness of Christian martyrs. In his Defence he states, "I myself... used to hear Christians abused, but when I found them fearless in the face of death and all that men think terrible, it dawned on me that they could not possibly be living wickedness and self-indulgence." Justin was convicted by the Spirit on the account of Christian martyrs. He too later became a martyr for Christ and one of the most influential apologists of the early Church. The witness of the martyrs also influenced Emperor Antoninus. After a letter from Justin, Antoninus later wrote to the Council of Asia and said, "You get them into serious trouble by your accusations of atheism, and thereby strengthen their existing determination... If accused they would choose apparent death rather than life, for the sake of their own god. And so they are the real winners... whenever they happen your courage fails you, providing a painful contrast between our morale and theirs..." It is not likely that Antoninus was ever a believer, probably quite the opposite, but his letter to the Council of Asia shows respect of the Christians when he says, "they are the real winners."

This witness that convicted Justin and engendered a respect in Emperor Antoninus was seen by much of the Empire. There are even stories of the executioners themselves seemingly being converted on account of the Christian they were about to martyr. Eusebius tells us of Basilides who was the soldier who lead Potamiaena to her execution. He had great respect for her and her witness, which led him to later be martyred for being a Christian. This was the influence of the martyrs on many those who watched them die and knew of what they died for. The persecution of the Church raised up witnesses, true witnesses, for Christ and their resolve drew people to the Church.

I think it should also be noted that the persecutions separated the "wheat from the chaff" in several senses. First, the persecutions were a means of preserving the true doctrines of the Church. Many of the false doctrines in the Church died out because of the pressure from the Empire, but God’s truth continued on. Marcion’s heresy and Gnosticism, for example, died out during the age of persecution (though Gnosticism died much more slowly). The Arian heresy was over thrown by men who "bore in their bodies the branding-marks of Jesus" (according to Athanasius) at the Council of Nicea. As Apolinarius said in his defense of Christianity against the Phrygian heresy, "Is there one person… among those from Montanus… who was persecuted by the Jews or killed by the wicked? Not one." In addition, Diocletian’s edict that terminated Christianity caused the Christians to have to decide which texts were worth dying for and which were not. As a result, many heretical (or at least non-canonical) texts all but died out during this time, and the canonical books we able to live on and eventually become part of the Bible that we have today. In this, one can see the hand of God in the preservation of the canon through these dark times. Finally, like the seeds that sprung up quickly but were then choked by weeds, the continuous pressure from society and the Empire drove away from their profession those who accepted Christianity merely in an external fashion. Those truly in union with Christ were sustained and strengthened by Him even to the point of torture and death. Again, one can see the hand of God sustaining the true believers of the Church through these dark times in order to build the Church up in Him.

Persecution showed the world that God’s plans are like the foundations of the earth—they will outlast any nation or people. The persecution of the Jews and Romans was enough to kill off those cults that rose up claiming to be Christian, but the truth of God’s Word stood strong. The Roman pagans who persecuted the Christians did not last, but those they persecuted grew in number. They hammered away at the Church but their hammers broke and the Church stood strong. "Caesar and Christ had met in the arena and Christ had won."

By His Grace,
Taylor