Jeremy L. Berg

This Holy Week, as an outflow of our CrossRoad sermon series, I am sharing some stories of early martyrs who took up their own cross and bore the ultimate witness to the cross-shaped Kingdom.

One of the great treasures of church history is the collection of writings called The Apostolic Fathers. These are the earliest writings outside the New Testament including letters from early ‘bishops’ who pastored the churches the apostles started. One such ‘church father’ is Ignatius, bishop of Antioch, who was born in c. 35 and died by martyrdom, being fed to wild beasts, in Rome in c. 107 AD. Ignatius is notable because he was a disciple of John the apostle. According to John Chrysostom, Peter himself appointed Ignatius to the see of Antioch where he was bishop for forty years.

After his arrest he was led to Rome in chains to face death in the arena. While on the way, he fired off seven letters to the surrounding churches, informing them of his impending death, encouraging them in their faith and insisting that they don’t interfere with his death. As for his life and personal character:

The character of St. Ignatius, as deduced from his own and the extant writings of his contemporaries, is that of a true athlete of Christ. The triple honor of apostle, bishop, and martyr was well merited by this energetic soldier of the Faith. An enthusiastic devotion to duty, a passionate love of sacrifice, and an utter fearlessness in the defense of Christian truth, were his chief characteristics. Zeal for the spiritual well-being of those under his charge breathes from every line of his writings. Ever vigilant lest they be infected by the rampant heresies of those early days; praying for them, that their faith and courage may not be wanting in the hour of persecution; constantly exhorting them to unfailing obedience to their bishops; teaching them all catholic truth; eagerly sighing for the crown of martyrdom, that his own blood may fructify in added graces in the souls of his flock, he proves himself in every sense a true, pastor of souls, the good shepherd that lays down his life for his sheep. (Source)

To modern ears, Ignatius’ writings about his impending martyrdom sound disturbingly enthusiastic, repeatedly urging others to not interfere or rob him of this glory. In his letter to Smyrna he writes, “Nearness to the sword is nearness to God; to be among the wild beasts is to be in the arms of God; only let it be in the name of Jesus Christ. I endure all things that I may suffer together with him, since he who became perfect man strengthens me.”

What motived such an attitude? Some martyr traditions are focused on the rewards that come after death — e.g., heavenly delights, seventy-two virgins (Islam), etc. — as the key motivation and source of strength for those suffering. While Ignatius is certainly aware of post-mortem rewards, what really seems to animate him is is a discipleship desire to become like Christ in his death, which he calls (finally) becoming a “true disciple.” To endure suffering merely in order to receive some eternal reward is still selfish. But to endure suffering out of a desire to mimic Jesus’ example and bear witness to Him is truly noble.

Here’s an excerpt from his letter to the church in Rome:

I write to the churches, and impress on them all, that I shall willingly die for God, unless you hinder me. I beseech of you not to show an unseasonable good-will towards me. Allow me to become food for the wild beasts, through whose instrumentality it will be granted me to attain to God. I am the wheat of God, and let me be ground by the teeth of the wild beasts, that I may be found the pure bread of Christ. Rather entice the wild beasts, that they may become my tomb, and may leave nothing of my body; so that when I have fallen asleep [in death], I may be no trouble to any one. Then shall I truly be a disciple of Christ…

May I enjoy the wild beasts that are prepared for me; and I pray they may be found eager to rush upon me, which also I will entice to devour me speedily, and not deal with me as with some, whom, out of fear, they have not touched. But if they be unwilling to assail me, I will compel them to do so. Pardon me [in this]: I know what is for my benefit. Now I begin to be a disciple. And let no one, of things visible or invisible, envy me that I should attain to Jesus Christ. Let fire and the cross; let the crowds of wild beasts; let tearings, breakings, and dislocations of bones; let cutting off of members; let shatterings of the whole body; and let all the dreadful torments of the devil come upon me: only let me attain to Jesus Christ.

Ignatius wrote elsewhere that, “We have not only to be called Christians, but to be Christians.” For Ignatius, the fullest Christian experience one could attain is sharing the same fate as Christ, offering ones life as a willing sacrifice to God and a faithful witness to His Kingdom cause. In this, he was of one heart and mind with the Apostle Paul who wrote about the blessedness of “fellowship in his sufferings”:

“I want to know Christ—yes, to know the power of his resurrection and fellowship in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, attaining to the resurrection from the dead” (Phil. 3:10-11).

Today, we live in a death-denying culture that has made “life” itself the object of greatest desire, an idol we bow down and worship through life-prolonging medicine and anti-aging procedures such as botox. In a society that puts such a high premium on life, the “death-wish” of Ignatius sounds crazy indeed. However, for Ignatius (and many saints throughout history and around the world today), the highest goal and chief aim was not preservation of our life but the pursuit of an intimate union with Christ. When this becomes our goal, death suddenly is no longer just the enemy to be avoided but a pathway to unspeakable fellowship with the Crucified One.

This Holy Week, may we pursue union with Christ and “fellowship in his sufferings,” and let that pursuit transform our view of death. Amen.