Ignatius was and is one of the most revered Fathers.  He was the Bishop of Antioch (Origen says he was the 2nd, Eusebius says he was the 3rd) and he wore the martyr’s crown.  Some of his “epistles” were later seen to be spurious, so I will be summarizing only those that it seems clear can actually be attributed to him.  Also, most of his epistles have a shorter and longer version.  I will be summarizing the shorter versions, as it seems likely that the longer versions contain embellishments, though I am in no way qualified to back this up.

Ignatius’ Epistles to the Ephesians is an interesting book.  It is the first of the patristic writings to use the term “Catholic Church,” though he defines it simply as wherever Christ is among His followers.  It would be a serious mistake to read Medieval Catholicism, much less modern Catholicism, back into this reference.  He uses the term in the sense that the early Baptists likewise spoke of the “Church catholick.”

I believe we also see ecclesiological development in Ignatius’ writings.  In short, I believe that Ignatius calls for a greater distinction between bishops (episkopos) and elders/pastors (presbyteros) than we have seen heretofore.

Here’s a bit of historical background from Tom Oden:

“Though it did not take long for a distinction to arise between episkopos and presbyteros, it is probable that they were used for a time more or less interchangeably…However unclear their earlier relationship, it became generally acknowledged by the end of the first century that the distinction between bishop and presbyter could serve a useful function, assuming the premise of Christian freedom to order disiplinary matters usefully and expeditiously.” (Thomas C. Oden, Corrective Love: The Power of Communion Discipline, 156-157)

It seems to me that we begin to see this most clearly in Ignatius.  For instance, in ch.4, Ignatius writes:  “Wherefore it is fitting that ye should run together in accordance with the will of your bishop, which thing also ye do.  For your justly renowned presbytery, worthy of God, is fitted as exactly to the bishop as the strings are to the harp.”  And, in ch.21, we find a clear distinction between the two offices:  “…so that ye obey the bishop and the presbytery with an undivided mind…”

This distinction between the presbyter and the bishop (albeit a harmonious one, in Ignatius’ thought) will become more clear as we look at his other epistles.  Regardless, it is also clear the Ignatius is wanting to establish the bishop’s authority, an idea that we have seen before him.  So, for instance, the Ephesians are to love their bishop (ch.1), imitate their bishop (ch.1), thank God for their bishop (ch.1), view bishops as “the [manifested] will of the Father” (ch.3), obey their bishop (ch.4), and “look upon the bishop as we would upon the Lord Himself” (ch.6).

Yet it must not be thought that Ignatius had a blasphemous preoccupation with bishops.  On the contrary, he is very clear that Jesus is Lord and that the church operates under His lordship.  All statements concerning church offices, then, should be read within the context of Ignatius’ strong christology.

Other noteworthy aspects of this letter are Ignatius’ strong appeal for faithful church participation (“He, therefore, that does not assemble with the Church, has even by this manifested his pride.”), his call for strong Christian commitment (“For let us either stand in awe of the wrath to come, or show regard for the grace which is at present displayed – one of two things.”), his view of worship as an act of spiritual warfare (“Take heed, then, to come together to give thanks to God, and show forth His praise.  For when ye assemble frequently in the same place, the powers of Satan are destroyed, and the destruction at which he aims.”), his practical wisdom (“It is better for a man to be silent and be [a Christian], than to talk and not to be one.  It is good to teach, if he who speaks also acts.”), and what is possibly the first reference to the Lord’s Supper that we find in the fathers (“…breaking one and the same bread, which is the medicine of immortality, and the antidote to prevent us from dying, but [which causes] that we should live for ever in Jesus Christ.”)  We likely find in this last statement a growing sacramentalism in the Church.

Having seen a glimpse of the type of person Bishop Polycarp was in his epistle to the Philippians, we are more prepared to appreciate the tragic beauty of his martyrdom as recorded in The Martyrdom of Polycarp.  Martyrdom was considered the greatest honor that those in the early church could have, and so it is today as well.  Perhaps this is why a kind of perverse “cult of the martyrs” sprung up in early Christianity.

The Smyrnans are writing to the Philomeliuns (Phrygia) about the death of their leader, Polycarp.  Interestingly, they take the time at the beginning of the letter to condemn those who look for martyrdom, using Quintus the Apostate as an example:

“Now one named Quintus, a Phrygian, who was but lately come from Phrygia, when he saw the wild beasts, became afraid. This was the man who forced himself and some others to come forward voluntarily [for trial]. Him the proconsul, after many entreaties, persuaded to swear and to offer sacrifice. Wherefore, brethren, we do not commend those who give themselves up [to suffering], seeing the Gospel does not teach so to do.”

And so it is today:  those who bluster the most about their faith are usually the first to cut and run.  No, the early church did not seek martyrdom, but neither did they flinch in the face of it.  Thus, Polycarp consents to be moved from place to place when the church hears that his oppressors are seeking to kill him, but, when they do in fact catch up with him, he shows an amazing courage for an 86-year-old man.  He only asks the guards for time to pray and has a meal prepared for his captors while they wait.

Chapter 9 of The Martyrdom of Polycarp is achingly beautiful and should be read by every Christian today:

“Now, as Polycarp was entering into the stadium, there came to him a voice from heaven, saying, “Be strong, and show thyself a man, O Polycarp!” No one saw who it was that spoke to him; but those of our brethren who were present heard the voice. And as he was brought forward, the tumult became great when they heard that Polycarp was taken. And when he came near, the proconsul asked him whether he was Polycarp. On his confessing that he was, [the proconsul] sought to persuade him to deny [Christ], saying, “Have respect to thy old age,” and other similar things, according to their custom, [such as], “Swear by the fortune of Cæsar; repent, and say, Away with the Atheists.” But Polycarp, gazing with a stern countenance on all the multitude of the wicked heathen then in the stadium, and waving his hand towards them, while with groans he looked up to heaven, said, “Away with the Atheists.”  Then, the proconsul urging him, and saying, “Swear, and I will set thee at liberty, reproach Christ;” Polycarp declared, “Eighty and six years have I served Him, and He never did me any injury: how then can I blaspheme my King and my Saviour?”

There are elements of this epistle that bear the mark of exaggeration or romanticization (his body does not burn, a dove flies out of his pierced side, etc.)…but, then again, who knows?  I’m more and more prone to listen sympathetically to the so-called “embellishments” of the early post-biblical writers.  Who knows but that we have simply grown too skeptical in our day of suspicion?  Who knows but that God might still wish to do such miracles among us, were He only able to find faith here?

Written around the middle of the 2nd century, Polycarp’s Epistle to the Philippians is a beautiful little letter that gives us interesting and helpful insights into the life of the early Christian community.  He was the bishop of Smyrna and the teacher of Irenaeus.  He would soon wear a martyr’s crown, much like his beloved Ignatius.

Polycarp is in possession of certain letters from Ignatius.  The Philippian believers actually request copies of all the letters he has (by this time, Ignatius has been martyred, though Polycarp does not know the details of how), obviously wanting a complete collection of the writings of this tremendous leader, and he is glad to send them.  They also ask Polycarp to pass on the most recent letter from the Philippians (the one giving rise to this epistle from Polycarp) to the believers in Syria, should anybody be heading that way.  Polycarp promises to do so when he is able.

There are some interesting aspects to this letter.  Once more we see the affirmation of the two-fold office of deacon (ch. 5) and presbyters (ch. 6).  We see Polycarp’s appeal to the Philippians to study Scripture:  “For I trust that ye are well versed in the Sacred Scriptures, and that nothing is hid from you…”

We also see his mysterious commentary on the lapsed presbyter Valens, who, with his wife, was involved in some sort of misconduct.  It is not clear exactly what this minister and his wife did, but Polycarp is “greatly grieved,” “deeply grieved,” and prays that he and his wife will repent of their behavior.  The sin involved a “covetousness” that leads to “idolatry.”  Perhaps this is an allusion to financial sins or greed?  Regardless, this is a welcome balance to Clement’s condemnation of the dismissing of faithful presbyters.  The people of God are not to dismiss faithful men of God (Clement).  Ministers, however, are not to use their congregations for personal gain (Polycarp).

How did the early Christians explain to their curious pagan neighbors what the Christian faith was all about?  The Epistle of Mathetes To Diognetus answers that question.  Written around 130 A.D., when “Mathetes” (we do not know who he really was) and other believers could still call Christianity “this new kind or practice [of piety]” that “has only now entered into the world, and not long ago,” the epistle represents an early apologetic attempt to explain the Christian faith to a Gentile named Diognetus.  Mathetes tells us in chapter 11 that he was “a disciple of the Apostles,” which likely means he personally knew the apostles, but we cannot say for sure.

The high points of this epistle are chapters 5 and 6, where Mathetes explains what Christians are like:

“For the Christians are distinguished from other men neither by country, nor language, nor the customs which they observe. For they neither inhabit cities of their own, nor employ a peculiar form of speech, nor lead a life which is marked out by any singularity. The course of conduct which they follow has not been devised by any speculation or deliberation of inquisitive men; nor do they, like some, proclaim themselves the advocates of any merely human doctrines. But, inhabiting Greek as well as barbarian cities, according as the lot of each of them has determined, and following the customs of the natives in respect to clothing, food, and the rest of their ordinary conduct, they display to us their wonderful and confessedly striking method of life. They dwell in their own countries, but simply as sojourners. As citizens, they share in all things with others, and yet endure all things as if foreigners. Every foreign land is to them as their native country, and every land of their birth as a land of strangers. They marry, as do all [others]; they beget children; but they do not destroy their offspring. They have a common table, but not a common bed. They are in the flesh, but they do not live after the flesh. They pass their days on earth, but they are citizens of heaven. They obey the prescribed laws, and at the same time surpass the laws by their lives. They love all men, and are persecuted by all. They are unknown and condemned; they are put to death, and restored to life. They are poor, yet make many rich; they are in lack of all things, and yet abound in all; they are dishonoured, and yet in their very dishonour are glorified. They are evil spoken of, and yet are justified; they are reviled, and bless; they are insulted, and repay the insult with honour; they do good, yet are punished as evil-doers. When punished, they rejoice as if quickened into life; they are assailed by the Jews as foreigners, and are persecuted by the Greeks; yet those who hate them are unable to assign any reason for their hatred.”

This is a beautiful articulation of Paul’s “ambassador” language.  I am also reminded by this that Stanley Hauerwas and Will Willimon have recently evoked the “resident alien” image in order to call the church away from secularization.  I would submit that Mathetes’ description of the believers could serve as a much-needed tonic for the Americanization of evangelicalism today.

One does not want to read later theological terminology back into the fathers, but there is nonetheless a strong substitionary picture in this epistle:

“He Himself took on Him the burden of our iniquities, He gave His own Son as a ransom for us, the holy One for transgressors, the blameless One for the wicked, the righteous One for the unrighteous, the incorruptible One for the corruptible, the immortal One for them that are mortal. For what other thing was capable of covering our sins than His righteousness? By what other one was it possible that we, the wicked and ungodly, could be justified, than by the only Son of God? O sweet exchange! O unsearchable operation! O benefits surpassing all expectation! that the wickedness of many should be hid in a single righteous One, and that the righteousness of One should justify many transgressors!”

Finally, we see a simple and profound evangelistic appeal in Mathetes’ epistle:  “If you also desire [to possess] this faith, you likewise shall receive first of all the knowledge of the Father.”  And later, “And do not wonder that a man may become an imitator of God.  He can, if he is willing.”

There is a refreshing simplicity in the Ante-Nice fathers.  Mathetes’ epistle, I would argue, is overall more moving than Clement’s and exhibits a heart-felt and passionate intensity that moves the reader even to this day.

Imagine this:  a church is doing well, working hard, and making a difference.  They develop a reputation for faithfulness, love, and peace.  They are, in many ways, an exemplary church.  Then something tragic happens:  success and prosperity.  Problems begin.  A general lack of humility permeates the church.  The feeling of “having arrived” quenches the fires that once drove the band of believers to greater and greater acts of love.  Then people start whispering against the ministers.  Not many people, just one or two.  But their poisonous gossip is allowed to spread, unchecked, until finally they drive the ministers from the church.

What I have just described is the almost predictable life-cycle of many Baptist churches today.  It is also a summary of “The First Epistle of Clement To The Corinthians.”  Written somewhere around the end of the first century, this early patristic letter is as relevant today as it was when Clement originally penned it.

Clement is writing from Rome to the church in Corinth.  It is possible that he is the Clement mentioned by Paul in Philippians 4:3.  If so, he co-labored with Paul and was known by Paul as a faithful worker.

This letter was highly respected by the early church, though it was never canonized.  It’s easy to see why.  Clement’s appeal to the mythical Phoenix as a natural example of the principle of resurrection was one of the reasons why it was not accepted as holy writ.

The letter itself is fascinating and moving.  It’s fascinating, for instance, to hear Clement’s tantalizing statement that Paul was martyred “after preaching both in the east and west…having taught righteousness to the whole world, and come to the extreme limit of the west…”  Some see this as an allusion to Paul traveling to Spain, and others think it refers to Paul going to Britain.

The letter contains some beautiful statements on the work of Christ.  Clement commends the Corinthians for the fact that, before their fall, “His [Christ’s] sufferings were before your eyes.”  Clement believed that the church should be a cross-driven church.  “Let us look,” he writes, “steadfastly to the blood of Christ, and see how precious that blood is to God, which, having been shed for our salvation, has set the grace of repentance before the whole world.”  Clement speaks of “that redemption” that “flow[s] through the blood of the Lord to all them that believe and hope in God.”

Ecclesiologically, Clement’s work is significant insofar as he was addressing the expulsion of “some men of excellent behavior from the ministry” by some members of the Corinthian church.  There is an early and vague appeal to apostolic succession in Clement’s idea that the “apostles…appointed those [ministers] already mentioned, and afterwards gave instructions, that when these should fall asleep, other approved men should succeed them in their ministry.”  Speaker of future generations of ministers, however, Clement says, “We are of opinion, therefore, that those appointed by them, or afterwards by other eminent men, with the consent of the whole Church, and who have blamelessly served the flock of Christ in a humble, peaceable, and disinterested spirit, and have for a long time possessed the good opinion of all, cannot be justly dismissed from the ministry.” [italics added]

There are undeniable traces of congregationalism here, a fact that should temper any concept of  succession.  It is also interesting that Clement speaks of two offices in the church:  bishops and deacons.

This is a letter about church conflict and the damage it causes.  “Your schism has subverted [the faith of] many, has discouraged many, has given rise to doubt in many, and has caused grief to us all.  And still your sedition continueth.”  Clement calls for repentance, love, peace, and a return to a focus on the shed blood of Christ.

Here is a fascinating glimpse into the life of the early post-apostolic church.  You will be edified and encouraged by spending some time with Clement.  You will also be struck by the truthfulness of the old idea:  the more things change, the more they stay the same.