Ignatius of Antioch.

Early in the second century a Christian prisoner guarded by ten Roman soldiers was being taken through western Asia Minor to Rome, where he was to be executed. He was the bishop of Antioch, in Syria, and his name was Ignatius. News of his coming had preceded him, and when at Laodicea his guards took the north fork of the road that led through Philadelphia to Smyrna, Christian messengers hurried along the south fork, through Tralles and Magnesia to Ephesus, to tell the brethren that he had gone the other way and that they must go to Smyrna if they hoped to see him. A number of them did so, and when, very soon after, his guards took him on to Troas, one of these brethren went with him to that port. A little later his party touched at Philippi, on their way westward. That is the last we see of Ignatius. But at Smyrna and Troas he managed to write seven letters that, though of no great length, are of extraordinary interest.

Although he was the bishop of Antioch, it is only when Ignatius enters the circle of the Churches of Asia that he writes anything significant enough to be preserved. We know of no writings of his from the years at Antioch, and of none after he left Troas for Rome; and it may be that his one sudden burst of literary activity at Smyrna and Troas was stimulated by the Christian leaders of Asia — Polycarp of Smyrna and Onesimus of Ephesus — or by the circumstances under which he wrote.

We can hardly suppose that his brutal guards — “ten leopards,” he called them — did anything to facilitate his letter-writing in the way of providing him with writing materials or forwarding his letters. But an Ephesian deacon named Burrhus, who came to Smyrna with his bishop Onesimus and three others from Ephesus to see and cheer him, seems to have assisted him as far as Troas and helped with his letter-writing there. In fact, he was probably his amanuensis. Ignatius says that the Ephesians and Smyrnaeans had been instrumental in getting him this assistance.

While he was at Smyrna, Ignatius recognized this expression of Christian sympathy by writing a letter to each of these Churches. He also addressed one to the Christians of Rome, preparing them for his coming and urging that nothing be done to prevent his martyrdom, to which he had now fully made up his mind. This attitude of Ignatius can be understood if we remember the terrible prospect of a cruel death to which he must have been striving to adjust himself through these weeks of travel.

His guards took him on from Ephesus to Troas, and there he wrote three more letters: one to the Church at Smyrna, where he had been so kindly treated; one to the cChurch of Philadelphia, with which he had had a hurried contact on his way to Smyrna; and one to Polycarp, the Bishop of Smyrna, who had evidently done all that could be done for him during his stay in that city. The persecution at Antioch was now over, and Ignatius wished the Asian Churches to write letters of encouragement to his old flock, especially as he could not rally them himself. He was being hurried on to Neapolis, and even with the aid of Burrhus could not write to all the Churches through which he would pass on his way to Rome. He asked Polycarp to do this for him, so that his triumphal progress might continue all the way to the city of his martyrdom.

We catch one more glimpse of him at Philippi, where he met with the Church. Then he disappears from our ken, for the later book on the Martyrdom of Ignatius has little historical worth. We can only suppose that he was thrown to the lions in the Coliseum; Eusebius places the date about A.D. 107-8. The exact date is uncertain.

Second-century Christianity was clouded over by a wide variety of schismatic movements: Docetism, Judaizing, Marcionism, Gnosticism, and Montanism. The first two are reflected and opposed in the letters of Ignatius and the letters and Gospel of John. Ignatius is the first Christian writer to describe the Docetic position — that Christ's suffering was not real but only a “semblance” (dokein), so that he only “seemed” to suffer. Against these views, Ignatius insisted in his letters to the Trallians and the Smyrnaeans that Christ's sufferings were real, and he bitterly retorted that the holders of such views were themselves but “semblance.” He criticized the Judaizers in writing to the Magnesians and the Philadelphians; these Judaizers had an exaggerated idea of the self-sufficiency of the Old Testament and seemed to be occupied with Jewish rites.

Against the obvious danger of division within and among the churches, Ignatius urges unity upon believers, and he finds the surest guaranty of this in a uniform church organization, under the leadership of bishop, elders (presbyters), and deacons. “Do nothing without the bishop” is his remedy (Philadelphians 7). Christians must be in harmony with their bishop and, since the bishop has the mind of Christ, in harmony with Christ and the Father. Ignatius is strongly ecclesiastical in his views; he certainly believes that outside the church there is no salvation and that to be within the church requires obedience to the bishop and presbyters.

The style of Ignatius owes much to the Greco-Roman rhetoric of his time, with its fondness for paradox and vivid imagery. His is a good example of what was called the Asian style, as opposed to the more restrained Attic. The stylistic influence of the Hellenistic-Jewish treatise on martyrdom that we know as IV Maccabees seems particularly apparent.

It may be that the Christian leaders of Asia, Polycarp of Smyrna and Onesimus of Ephesus, urged upon Ignatius the duty of attacking the false doctrines current among their churches. His immediate position, as a Christian confessor, a man already condemned to death for his faith and on the way to execution, naturally gave his words great weight. But it seems unnecessary to ascribe much influence to Ignatius' fellow bishops. As Bishop of Antioch, or indeed of Syria (ROM. 2:2), he was quite capable of assessing the situation for himself, as we learn from his account of his dealings with the Philadelphians.

Ignatius speaks in his letters of the aid the brethren of Ephesus and Smyrna had given him in writing and sending his letters, and, of course, without such local aid a prisoner like him could not have either written or sent them. The Ephesians and Smyrnaeans had sent Burrhus of Ephesus (Eph. 2:1) with Ignatius to Troas to write or carry his letters (Philad. II:2; Smyrn. 12:1). Ignatius directs Polycarp to write to the churches in the cities he is likely to pass through on the rest of his journey to Rome. And a few weeks later we find Polycarp sending a collection of his letters to the church at Philippi. The free interchange of letters among the Churches of Asia, Macedonia, and Syria that is implied or reflected in the letters of Ignatius and Polycarp shows in what close touch these Churches, and probably the other leading churches of Italy and Greece, already were. Paul's letters to the Churches had led the way in this, and the letter collection that begins the Revelation, together with Hebrews, I Peter, and I Clement, had continued it. These Churches of East and West were in frequent communication by letter and these letters sometimes rose to the stature of permanent contributions to the growing treasures of what was to be Christian literature.