Conversion Forbidden, Courage Unstoppable: Severus and the Early Church

September 19, 2025 / Jason Conrad / Leave a comment

The assassination of Commodus on December 31, AD 192 plunged Rome into civil war. In what became known as the Year of the Five Emperors (AD 193), power passed rapidly between Pertinax, Didius Julianus, Pescennius Niger, and Clodius Albinus. Finally, Septimius Severus—an African-born general from Leptis Magna—emerged victorious. He would rule for nearly two decades (193–211).

For Christians, nothing new is recorded under these brief emperors—only the continued, by now ancient, tradition that those accused of the name and refusing to deny it could be put to death. This tradition reached back to Nero’s precedent, when Christians were first condemned in Rome.

Once Severus consolidated power, however, a new wave of persecution broke out. By his tenth year (AD 202/203), we find evidence across Africa and Egypt of Christians martyred, catechumens executed, and great teachers forced to reckon with Rome’s hostility. And although only one late source names it directly, the tradition survives that Severus had issued a law forbidding conversions to Judaism and Christianity.

The Edict, Plainly Stated

Historia Augusta, Life of Severus 17.1 (Loeb):

“He forbade anyone to become a Jew, and he enacted severe penalties against those who attempted to convert to Judaism and Christianity.”

This is our sole explicit witness to the edict. The Historia Augusta was written in the 4th century and is often unreliable. But the law it describes explains why, at precisely this time, catechumens and teachers were executed from Carthage to Alexandria.

Eusebius: A Wave of Persecution

Eusebius, Church History 6.1.1–2 (Loeb):

“When Severus had been emperor for ten years, he stirred up persecution against the churches, and illustrious testimonies of martyrdom were given at that time. At Alexandria the great teachers of the faith were most distinguished, and in other regions also a great many received crowns of martyrdom with all kinds of tortures and punishments. At that time Origen, a young man, devoted himself with all earnestness to the divine word, while his father Leonidas received the crown of martyrdom.”

Here Carthage and Alexandria are linked. In North Africa, women and slaves were led to the arena. In Egypt, a father was executed, leaving his son to become the greatest theologian of early Christianity.

The Martyrs of Carthage: Perpetua, Felicitas, and Saturus (North Africa, AD 203)

The most vivid testimony of Severus’ persecution comes from the Passion of Perpetua and Felicitas. Its uniqueness lies in the fact that it is partly autobiographical—the first-person diary of Perpetua herself, later woven together with Saturus’ vision and an eyewitness account of their deaths.

When her father begged her to deny Christ, Perpetua answered with a simplicity Rome could not overcome:

“Father, do you see this little pitcher? Can it be called by any other name than what it is? … So too I cannot call myself anything else than what I am, a Christian.” (Passion 3–4)

She was imprisoned with several other catechumens. Among them was Saturus, a Christian teacher who had not been arrested at first but chose to surrender himself so he could share their chains. His voluntary imprisonment made him a model of pastoral courage, and in Perpetua’s visions he appears as her guide.

At first, Perpetua struggled with the darkness and the crowding of prison, but her greatest fear was for her baby:

“I was horrified, for I had never experienced such darkness. Oh, terrible day! The crowding of the mob, the harsh treatment by the soldiers, the extortion of the jailers. Then I was distressed by anxiety for my baby.” (Passion 3–5)

Eventually she was allowed to nurse her son in prison:

“Then I was allowed to nurse him in prison, and I recovered my strength, and my prison became to me a palace, so that I would rather have been there than anywhere else.” (Passion 5)

Later the baby was given into the care of her family. Though she grieved, she found freedom to face martyrdom without distraction:

“I endured great pain because I saw my infant wasted with hunger … Then I arranged for the child to stay with my mother and brother. For a little while I took care of the child in prison, but later I gave him up. And immediately the prison became a place of refreshment to me, and my anxiety for the child no longer consumed me.” (Passion 6)

That is the last we hear of her son, who survived, raised by his grandmother. The absence of any mention of her husband is striking. Whether she was widowed or separated we do not know; the editor of the Passion was not interested in her social status, but in her confession of Christ.

Perpetua’s visions gave her courage. She saw a narrow bronze ladder stretching to heaven, lined with swords and hooks, with a dragon lurking at its base. Saturus climbed first, and she followed, treading on the dragon’s head and entering a garden where a shepherd gave her milk turned into a cake, and all around said “Amen” (Passion 4).

Her fellow prisoner Felicitas faced her own trial. She was a slave woman, eight months pregnant when arrested. Roman law forbade executing pregnant women, and she feared she might be separated from her companions. She prayed to give birth before the day of the games, and her prayers were answered. When mocked by a jailer for her cries in labor, she replied:

“Now I myself suffer what I suffer, but then another will be in me who will suffer for me, because I am to suffer for him.” (Passion 15)

At last came the day of execution:

“The day of their victory dawned, and they marched from the prison into the amphitheater, as if into heaven, with cheerful looks and graceful bearing. Perpetua followed with shining step as the true spouse of Christ. When the young gladiator trembled to strike her, she guided his hand to her throat, for it was as if such a woman could not be slain unless she herself were willing.” (Passion 18, 21)

Rome called it punishment; the Christians called it victory. The amphitheater was meant to shame them before the crowd, but Perpetua, Felicitas, and Saturus walked into it as though into heaven.

Tertullian of Carthage (North Africa, c. 197–220)

Before the main outbreak of persecution under Severus, another Carthaginian gave voice to the church in Latin: Tertullian. A lawyer by training and a fiery Christian apologist, he addressed his works to Roman officials, governors, and pagan audiences who misunderstood the church. His writings prove that Christians in Africa were already living under suspicion and facing punishment years before Severus’ edict of 202/203.

In his Apology (c. AD 197), addressed to the provincial governors and magistrates of North Africa, Tertullian insists that Christians are everywhere:

Apology 37 (Loeb):

“We are but of yesterday, and we have filled every place among you—cities, islands, fortresses, towns, marketplaces, the very camp, tribes, companies, palace, senate, forum; we have left nothing to you but the temples of your gods.”

Persecution was already a reality. Christians were blamed for every disaster:

Ad Nationes 1.7:

“If the Tiber rises as high as the city walls, if the Nile does not rise into the fields, if the heavens give no rain, if the earth quakes, if there is a famine or a plague, the cry at once is, ‘The Christians to the lion!’”

And yet, persecution only multiplied them:

Apology 50:

“We multiply whenever we are mown down by you: the blood of Christians is seed.”

Later, in To Scapula (written around AD 212 to Scapula, the proconsul of Africa), he warned Rome’s governor directly:

To Scapula 5 (Loeb):

“Kill us, torture us, condemn us, grind us to dust; your injustice is the proof that we are innocent. … The more often you mow us down, the more we grow; the blood of Christians is seed.”

Tertullian’s writings show that persecution was not sudden but constant. By the time Severus issued his edict, the soil had already been watered with blood—and, as Tertullian argued, that blood was the seed of growth.

Clement of Alexandria (Egypt, c. 190–203+)

Meanwhile in Alexandria, the church had established a tradition of Christian teaching known as the catechetical school. Its master was Clement of Alexandria, a philosopher-turned-Christian who wrote in Greek to the city’s educated elite.

Clement’s trilogy of major works shows the breadth of his teaching:

Protrepticus (Exhortation to the Greeks):

“Leave the old delusion, flee from the ancient plague; seek after the new song, the new Logos, who has appeared among us from heaven. He alone is both God and man, the source of all our good.” (Protrepticus 1.5)

Paedagogus (The Instructor):

“The Word is all things to the child: father and mother, tutor and nurse. ‘Eat my flesh,’ He says, ‘and drink my blood.’ Such is suitable food for children, the Lord Himself made nourishment, love, and instruction.” (Paedagogus 1.6)

Stromata (Miscellanies):

“The true gnostic is one who imitates God as far as possible: he rests on faith, is founded on love, is educated by hope, and is perfected by knowledge. He has already attained the likeness of God, being righteous and holy with wisdom.” (Stromata 7.10)

On martyrdom, he wrote plainly:

“Many martyrs are daily burned, confined, or beheaded before our eyes, so that not only in ancient times but also among ourselves may one see such examples, being set forth in their thousands.” (Stromata 4.4)

And on wealth and charity:

Who Is the Rich Man That Shall Be Saved? 27:

“Wealth is not to be thrown away. It is a material for virtue, if it be rightly used. Riches are called good if they are distributed well; for they can become instruments of righteousness. Let the rich man do good, let him give liberally, let him share willingly, and he will be perfect.”

For Clement, charity was not about ascetic rejection but about transformed stewardship. Wealth was a tool, not a curse—its danger was in clinging to it selfishly, its virtue in giving it freely. He presented charity as a spiritual discipline: rational, cheerful, and loving generosity for the good of others.

When Severus’ persecution reached Alexandria around AD 202, Clement fled the city and took refuge in Cappadocia, never to return. Leadership of the Alexandrian school passed to the teenage Origen. But Clement’s writings remained a legacy: in the empire’s intellectual capital, he had given Christianity an intellectual defense, a moral handbook, and a vision of charity rooted not in fear but in love.

Origen and Leonidas (Alexandria, Egypt, AD 202/203)

When Leonidas, Origen’s father, was executed, Origen was only about seventeen years old. He was the eldest of seven children, and his family’s property was confiscated. He suddenly found himself destitute, responsible for his widowed mother and six younger siblings.

Eusebius, Church History 6.2.2–3 (Loeb):

“Leonidas, the father of Origen, was beheaded. Origen was eager to accompany him and to die as a martyr, but his mother prevented him by hiding all his clothes and thus compelled him to remain in the house. And he wrote to his father in prison, saying: ‘Take heed not to change your mind on our account.’”

Eusebius, Church History 6.3.9–11 (Loeb):

“Leonidas would often, when Origen was sleeping, uncover his breast and reverently kiss it, as though it were already sanctified by the divine Spirit within him. He educated his boy not only in general studies but above all in the Holy Scriptures.”

To support his family, Origen opened a school of grammar and literature, teaching pagans by day and catechumens by night. He lived with radical austerity, sleeping on the ground and fasting, so he could provide for his mother and siblings. In time, wealthy patrons like Ambrose of Alexandria also supported him, funding secretaries to copy his works.

When Clement fled, Origen inherited the catechetical school. This “school” (didaskaleion) was not simply a building but a tradition of Christian teaching in Alexandria, begun by Pantaenus, a Stoic philosopher turned Christian. Now, still in his teens, Origen became its master. From there he wrote commentaries on nearly every book of the Bible, debated pagan philosophers, and composed On First Principles, the first systematic theology in Christian history.

The persecution that took his father’s life launched his own.

Hippolytus of Rome (Italy, c. 200–215)

In Rome, the church was codifying its order even under threat. Hippolytus, writing in Greek, preserved the earliest liturgy and church order that has survived.

Apostolic Tradition (On Ordination, ch. 3):

“Let the bishop be ordained after he has been chosen by all the people. … Let all lay hands on him and pray, saying: ‘O God, pour forth the power of your Spirit upon this your servant, whom you have chosen to be shepherd of your people.’”

Apostolic Tradition (On Baptism, ch. 21):

“Do you believe in God the Father Almighty? … Do you believe in Christ Jesus, the Son of God, who was born … crucified … and rose again … and will come to judge the living and the dead? … Do you believe in the Holy Spirit, and the holy Church, and the resurrection of the flesh? … And so he is baptized a third time.”

Apostolic Tradition (On the Eucharist, ch. 4):

“We give you thanks, O God, through your beloved Son Jesus Christ, whom you sent to us as Savior and Redeemer … and when he had given thanks, he said: ‘This is my body, which is for you.’ … Remembering therefore his death and resurrection, we offer to you this bread and this cup, giving thanks to you.”

From the same hand we also have the Refutation of All Heresies, in which he exposed pagan astrology and Gnostic sects:

Refutation 4.37:

“If everything is under the control of fate, then let no one be blamed for sins, nor praised for virtues. But if this is absurd, then their teaching is false. For man has been made free by God.”

Refutation 9.7:

“There are those who, under the name of Christ, corrupt the truth by their deceit. But we have the tradition from the apostles, delivered through the succession of bishops, and we guard it in the Church by the Holy Spirit.”

Hippolytus shows us that in Rome itself—at the empire’s heart—Christians were not retreating underground but continuing to baptize, ordain, and celebrate the Eucharist. At the very time Severus forbade conversions, Rome’s church was still welcoming new converts and defending its doctrine.

Minucius Felix (Rome or North Africa, c. 197–210)

Octavius is the earliest surviving Christian apology written in elegant Latin. It is framed as a dialogue between Caecilius, a pagan, and Octavius, a Christian, with Minucius himself as arbiter.

On slanders against Christians, Caecilius charges:

Octavius 9:

“It is said that in your sacred rites you slay an infant and drink its blood, and that after the banquet you join in incestuous unions in shameless darkness. These are the fables you believe of us—things which you would not even believe of your own enemies.”

Octavius replies with a portrait of Christian life:

Octavius 31–32:

“They love one another before they know one another; they call one another brother and sister, and with reason. They are ready even to die for one another. … We neither keep our religion hidden, for our life is made known by its teachings, nor are we silent, since we are always being accused.”

On worship:

Octavius 33:

“We do not worship the images you make, for we know they are made of stone and wood. … Our sacrifice is a pure prayer proceeding from a pure heart.”

On persecution:

Octavius 35:

“Do you think that we are to be pitied, who are counted as your enemies? When we are slain, we conquer; when we are struck down, we are crowned; when we are condemned, we are acquitted.”

Minucius shows us Christianity in Rome’s own idiom: clear, concise, legal Latin rhetoric. He captures both the accusations Christians faced in Severus’ time and the moral beauty of their reply—love, openness, prayer, courage.

Bardaisan of Edessa (Syria/Mesopotamia, c. 200–222)

Far from Rome and Carthage, in the eastern frontier city of Edessa, the philosopher Bardaisan defended Christianity in Syriac against astrology and fatalism. His Book of the Laws of Countries, preserved by his disciples, is a dialogue on fate, free will, and culture.

On free will:

Laws of Countries 617 (Wright trans.):

“The constellations do not compel a man either to be righteous or to be a sinner, nor does fate constrain him to be rich or poor. But every man, according to his own will, approaches what is right, and departs from what is evil.”

On cultural diversity:

Laws of Countries 619:

“The same stars shine everywhere, yet laws differ among the Parthians, the Romans, and the Syrians. If fate compelled, all would live the same way. But men live according to their laws, and these laws are the fruit of free will.”

On the universality of Christianity:

Laws of Countries 622:

“The new law of our Lord is not written on stone but on the heart. Because of it, men from every nation have renounced their former customs and are ready to suffer and even to die rather than transgress it.”

On martyrdom:

Laws of Countries 623:

“This law has not only been written and spoken, but it is practiced. For in all places and in every land, men and women, young and old, endure persecution for the sake of this law, and they do not deny it.”

Bardaisan’s “law” is not Roman statute or Jewish Torah, but the gospel of Christ written on the heart. He stresses that this law is already global: Romans, Syrians, Parthians alike live by it, and all are ready to suffer for it. From the eastern frontier of the empire, Bardaisan shows us Christianity as a universal faith that conquers fatalism with freedom, and unites nations in one confession.

Conclusion

The reign of Septimius Severus (AD 193–211) was decisive for Christianity.

The edict: remembered in the Historia Augusta, forbidding conversion.
The martyrs: Perpetua, Felicitas, and Saturus in Carthage; Leonidas in Alexandria.
The writers:
- Tertullian (Carthage) — lawyer turned apologist, addressing governors and magistrates, insisting that persecution was constant and blood was seed.
- Clement (Alexandria) — philosopher turned teacher, whose writings shaped Christian virtue, charity, and knowledge before he fled persecution.
- Origen (Alexandria) — teenage prodigy, shaped by his father’s death, who built the greatest Christian school of the ancient world.
- Hippolytus (Rome) — presbyter preserving baptismal, eucharistic, and ordination rites, proving the church’s order survived in the capital.
- Minucius Felix (Rome/Africa) — polished Latin lawyer refuting slander and showing Christian innocence and love.
- Bardaisan (Edessa) — philosopher on the frontier, proclaiming the gospel as the new law written on the heart, freely obeyed in every nation.

By Severus’ reign, Christian voices were speaking from every corner of the empire. Rome tried to choke Christianity at its source—conversion—but instead gave the church martyrs, apologists, and theologians whose words and courage still inspire today.

The Church’s Voice in an Emperor’s “Peaceful” Reign

August 31, 2025 / Jason Conrad / Leave a comment

Antoninus Pius (AD 138–161) is remembered as one of Rome’s “Five Good Emperors.” His reign lasted twenty-three years and was marked by peace, stability, and prosperity. He earned the title Pius because of his devotion: to his adoptive father Hadrian, whose memory he defended; to Roman religion, which he honored scrupulously; and to his family. Ancient writers portray him as the model of dutifulness and justice.

But beneath this outward calm, Christianity continued to grow. For Christians, Antoninus’ reign was not simply peaceful. It was a season of both intellectual flourishing and enduring danger. Some of the earliest apologies — reasoned defenses of Christianity addressed to emperors — come from this time, as well as one of the most famous martyrdom accounts of the ancient church.

Antoninus and His Reputation

The Historia Augusta reports:

“He was called Pius for the following reason: When the Senate wanted to annul Hadrian’s decrees, he persuaded them not to do so. He supported the father of his wife Faustina, who had been accused, and obtained his pardon. He always treated his stepmother with respect and honor. And he always sacrificed to the gods, showing reverence in every way.” (Life of Antoninus Pius, 6).

This reputation for reverence and stability carried into later Roman memory. He was remembered as a benevolent emperor who avoided war, strengthened the law, and ensured financial security.

Justin Martyr: Pleading Before the Emperors

During Antoninus’ reign, the Christian philosopher Justin Martyr composed his First Apology (c. 155), addressed to Antoninus Pius, Marcus Aurelius, Lucius Verus, and the Roman Senate. Why multiple emperors? Because Antoninus had adopted Marcus and Lucius as his heirs. By addressing all of them, Justin was not only appealing to the reigning emperor but also to those who would succeed him. He wanted Christianity to be judged fairly at the highest level of Rome.

Justin’s central plea was simple: stop condemning Christians for their name alone.

“Reason requires that those who are accused should not be condemned without a trial, nor hated on account of a name. For what is the accusation? That we are called Christians. This is no crime. The charge is only that we bear a name. If any is found guilty of evil, let him be punished as an evildoer; but not on account of the name, if he is found to be guiltless.” (First Apology 4, Loeb).

He exposed the absurdity of condemning someone merely for a title:

“For from a name neither praise nor punishment could reasonably spring, unless something excellent or base in action can be shown about it. Those who accuse us of atheism, because we do not worship the same gods as you, charge us falsely; for we worship the Maker of this universe, declaring that He has no need of streams of blood and libations and incense.” (First Apology 6, Loeb).

Justin also wanted to show that Christians lived morally upright lives:

“We who once delighted in fornication, now embrace chastity alone. We who used magical arts dedicate ourselves to the good and unbegotten God. We who loved gain above all things now bring what we have into a common stock, and share with every needy one. We who hated and destroyed one another, and on account of our different customs would not live with men of a different tribe, now, since the coming of Christ, live familiarly with them, and pray for our enemies.” (First Apology 14, Loeb).

Describing Christian Worship

Before Justin, the Roman governor Pliny the Younger had reported what former Christians told him under interrogation (ca. AD 112 under Trajan):

“They declared that the sum of their fault or error had been that they were accustomed to meet on a fixed day before dawn, and to sing responsively a hymn to Christ as to a god, and to bind themselves by an oath, not to some crime, but not to commit theft, robbery, or adultery, not to break their word, and not to refuse to return a deposit when asked for it. After this it was their custom to depart, and then to assemble again to partake of food — but ordinary and innocent food.” (Pliny, Letters 10.96, Loeb).

But Justin’s First Apology is the first time a Christian himself described worship directly to the Roman emperors. His account is fuller, and deliberately meant to explain Christian practice in detail:

“On the day called Sunday, all who live in cities or in the country gather together in one place, and the memoirs of the apostles or the writings of the prophets are read, as long as time permits. Then, when the reader has finished, the president verbally instructs, and exhorts to the imitation of these good things. Then we all rise together and pray, and, as we said before, when our prayer is ended, bread and wine and water are brought, and the president in like manner offers prayers and thanksgivings, according to his ability, and the people assent, saying Amen; and there is a distribution to each, and a sharing of that over which thanks have been given, and to those who are absent a portion is sent by the deacons.” (First Apology 67, Loeb).

And on the Eucharist:

“This food is called among us the Eucharist, of which no one is allowed to partake but the man who believes that the things which we teach are true, and who has been washed with the washing for the remission of sins, and unto regeneration, and who is so living as Christ has enjoined. For not as common bread and common drink do we receive these; but in like manner as Jesus Christ our Savior, having been made flesh by the Word of God, had both flesh and blood for our salvation, so likewise have we been taught that the food which is blessed by the prayer of His word, and from which our blood and flesh are nourished, is the flesh and blood of that Jesus who was made flesh.” (First Apology 66, Loeb).

Justin left no doubt: Christians worshiped Christ as God, and their meal was not symbolic but sacred — the body and blood of Jesus.

In his Second Apology, Justin gave examples of how Christians were still executed for the name alone:

“When a certain woman, who had been made a disciple of Christ, remained with her husband for a time and tried to persuade him to live in chastity, and when he continued in licentiousness, she left him. Then, when she was about to be married to another, her former husband accused her of being a Christian. She presented a petition to delay the case until she could arrange her affairs, but her instructor in the faith was arrested and punished merely for being called a Christian.” (Second Apology 2, Loeb).

Even under Antoninus, Christians died for their confession of Christ.

Polycarp: Faithful Unto Death

At roughly the same time, Polycarp — bishop of Smyrna and disciple of the apostle John — was brought before the Roman proconsul.

When pressed to deny Christ, he famously replied:

“Eighty-six years I have served him, and he has done me no wrong. How then can I blaspheme my King who saved me?” (Martyrdom of Polycarp 9, Loeb).

The proconsul urged him to swear by Caesar:

“Swear by the fortune of Caesar; repent, and say, Away with the atheists!’ But Polycarp, with solemn countenance, looked upon all the lawless heathen in the arena, and waving his hand toward them, groaned, and looking up to heaven, said: ‘Away with the atheists.’” (Martyrdom of Polycarp 10, Loeb).

As they bound him for the fire, he prayed:

“O Lord God Almighty, Father of Thy beloved and blessed Son Jesus Christ, by whom we have received the knowledge of Thee, the God of angels and powers and every creature, and of all the righteous who live before Thee, I bless Thee that Thou hast counted me worthy of this day and hour, that I may share, among the number of the martyrs, in the cup of Thy Christ, for resurrection to eternal life both of soul and body, in the incorruptibility of the Holy Spirit.” (Martyrdom of Polycarp 14, Loeb).

Polycarp’s death under Antoninus shows that Rome still demanded worship of Caesar — and Christians who refused still died.

The Epistle to Diognetus: Citizens of Another World

From the same period comes the anonymous Epistle to Diognetus. It begins with a fictional inquirer raising the questions that many pagans asked about Christians:

“Since I see, most excellent Diognetus, that you are exceedingly anxious to learn the religion of the Christians, and are searching into it with the most careful and exact inquiry — as to what God they trust, and how they worship Him, that they all despise the world and disregard death, and neither account the acknowledged gods of the Greeks to be gods, nor observe the superstition of the Jews; and what kind of love they have for one another, and why this new race or practice has entered into life now and not before — I welcome this zeal of yours, and I beg of God, who enables both us to speak and you to hear, that it may be granted to both of us to profit by what we learn.” (Epistle to Diognetus 1, Loeb).

After dismissing both idol worship and Jewish ritual sacrifices as unworthy of God, the author explains that Christianity did not come from human speculation, but from revelation:

“When then you have freed yourself from all these things, and laid aside the error of the common talk, and are rid of the deception of the gods, and no longer suppose, like the Jews, that God has need of sacrifices — then shall you learn what is the true mystery of the Christian faith. For neither by curiosity nor by busy inquiry have we learned it, nor did we discover it through the art of men, as in some empty talk; but it has been handed down to us from the very Word of God Himself, who was sent from heaven by God to men.” (Epistle to Diognetus 4, Loeb).

And then comes one of the most moving descriptions of the Christian life in the entire second century — a vision of paradox, resilience, and heavenly citizenship:

“For Christians are not distinguished from the rest of mankind by country or by speech or by customs. For they do not dwell somewhere in their own cities, nor do they use some different language, nor practice a peculiar kind of life. This teaching of theirs has not been discovered by the thought and reflection of inquisitive men, nor do they champion any human doctrine, as some do. But while they dwell in both Greek and barbarian cities, as each has fallen to their lot, and follow the native customs in clothing and food and the other matters of daily life, yet the condition of citizenship which they exhibit is wonderful, and admittedly strange. They live in their own countries, but only as sojourners; they share all things as citizens, and suffer all things as foreigners. Every foreign country is a fatherland to them, and every fatherland is foreign.

They marry like all other men, and they beget children; but they do not cast away their offspring. They have their meals in common, but not their wives. They are found in the flesh, yet they do not live after the flesh. They spend their days upon earth, but their citizenship is in heaven. They obey the established laws, and they surpass the laws in their own lives. They love all men, and are persecuted by all. They are not known, and yet they are condemned. They are put to death, and yet they are quickened into life. They are poor, yet make many rich; they lack all things, and yet abound in all things. They are dishonored, and yet are glorified in their dishonor. They are spoken evil of, and yet are justified. They are reviled, and bless; they are insulted, and repay the insult with honor. They do good, yet are punished as evildoers. Being punished, they rejoice as though they were thereby quickened into life. The Jews make war upon them as foreigners, and the Greeks persecute them; and those who hate them cannot state the cause of their enmity.” (Epistle to Diognetus 5–6, Loeb).

This is how Christians under Antoninus saw themselves: rooted in Roman cities, yet belonging to another world; hated and persecuted, yet bringing life to others; dishonored, yet glorified; punished, yet rejoicing.

Hegesippus: Guarding the Apostolic Tradition

During Antoninus’ reign, the writer Hegesippus began preserving Christian memory in his five books of Memoirs. Sadly the work is lost, but fragments survive in Eusebius:

On the uniformity of doctrine:

“And the Church of Corinth continued in the true faith until Primus was bishop in Corinth; and I conversed with them on my voyage to Rome, and we were refreshed together in the true doctrine. And being in Rome I made a succession up to Anicetus, whose deacon was Eleutherus. And after Anicetus, Soter succeeded, and after him Eleutherus. In every succession and in every city things are as the Law and the Prophets and the Lord proclaim.” (Hist. Eccl. 4.22.1–3, Loeb).

On the family of Jesus (“desposyni”):

“There still survived of the kindred of the Lord the grandsons of Jude, who had been called his brother according to the flesh. … Domitian asked them how much property they owned; they said they had only thirty-nine plethra of land, and showed their calloused hands from farming. Asked about Christ and his kingdom, they replied that it was not earthly but heavenly and angelic, to appear at the end of the world. At this Domitian let them go, and they became leaders of the churches, both as witnesses and as of the Lord’s family.” (Hist. Eccl. 3.19–20, Loeb).

On James the Just:

“James, the brother of the Lord, succeeded to the government of the Church in conjunction with the apostles. … His knees became hard like a camel’s because of his constant worship, kneeling and asking forgiveness for the people. … They threw him down from the temple, stoned him, and finally a fuller’s club struck his head. Thus he bore witness, and they buried him by the temple, and his monument still remains.” (Hist. Eccl. 2.23, Loeb, citing Hegesippus).

On heresies after the apostles:

“Until the times of Trajan the Church continued a pure and uncorrupted virgin. But when the sacred band of apostles had closed their lives, and that generation passed away, then the conspiracy of godless error arose through the fraud of false teachers.” (Hist. Eccl. 4.22.4–7, Loeb).

Hegesippus stands as one of the earliest church historians, traveling through cities, checking successions of bishops, and insisting on continuity with the apostles.

The Rescript of Antoninus — and Why It Fails

Eusebius also preserves a decree attributed to Antoninus, which seems to restrain mob violence against Christians:

“If, therefore, the provincials are able to make a clear case against the Christians in court, let them bring charges. But it is unlawful to persecute them merely for the name. If anyone continues to harass them, let the one accused be released, even though he be found to be a Christian, and let the informer be punished.” (Church History IV.13, Loeb).

At first glance, this sounds as if Antoninus protected Christians. But the evidence of the time says otherwise.

Justin begged that Christians not be condemned for the name alone — which shows they were.
Polycarp was executed for refusing to deny Christ.
Justin’s Second Apology explicitly describes Christians punished “merely for being called a Christian.”

For these reasons, most historians conclude that Eusebius was wrong in this instance — either quoting a spurious decree or idealizing Antoninus. Whatever Antoninus may have written, Christians still died for their confession of Christ.

Conclusion

Antoninus Pius is remembered by Roman historians as the calmest, most peaceful emperor of the second century. But for Christians, his reign looked different.

Justin Martyr wrote eloquent defenses of Christianity, describing their moral life and Sunday worship — but still had to plead that Christians not be killed for the name alone.
Polycarp was executed, proving that even in a so-called peaceful reign, death was the cost of faith.
The Epistle to Diognetus portrayed Christians as citizens of heaven, foreigners in every land.
Hegesippus preserved the memory of apostolic succession and the purity of the early church.
And Eusebius’ rosy decree about Antoninus was almost certainly wrong.

Antoninus’ reign demonstrates a crucial point: even when Rome was at peace, Christians were not safe. Their very identity was enough to condemn them. Yet it was in this climate that Christianity’s first great apologists wrote, its first great martyrdom was recorded, and its distinct self-understanding emerged.

The empire might call Antoninus Pius — dutiful and devout. But for Christians, true piety meant loyalty to a greater King, even unto death.

How We Know Paul’s Letters Were Accurately Preserved

June 18, 2025June 18, 2025 / Jason Conrad / Leave a comment

How do we know that the Apostle Paul’s original letters—written between 48 and 64 AD—were accurately transmitted before our earliest surviving manuscript copy from around 200 AD?

In this post, we walk through internal evidence from the New Testament, quotes from early Christian leaders, and even comparisons with other ancient writings. The result is a compelling historical case for the reliable preservation of Paul’s seven undisputed letters: Romans, 1–2 Corinthians, Galatians, Philippians, 1 Thessalonians, and Philemon.

Comparing Paul to Other Ancient Authors

Before jumping into Christian sources, let’s compare Paul’s letters with other ancient texts that historians accept without controversy:

Author	Work	Date Written	Earliest Copy	Time Gap
Josephus	Jewish War	75–79 AD	9th century	~800 years
Tacitus	Annals	~100 AD	~850 AD	~750 years
Pliny the Younger	Letters	~100–112 AD	~850 AD	~750 years
Suetonius	Lives of the Caesars	~121 AD	9th century	~700–800 years
Paul the Apostle	7 Undisputed Letters	48–64 AD	~175–200 AD (P46)	~125–150 years

Paul’s letters have the shortest gap between composition and manuscript evidence—yet are often treated with far more suspicion. Why?

Internal Evidence from Paul’s Own Letters

Even during Paul’s lifetime, his letters were being circulated and discussed:

1 Corinthians 1:2
“To the church of God which is at Corinth… with all who in every place call on the name of Jesus Christ our Lord.”

2 Corinthians 1:1
“To the church of God which is at Corinth, with all the saints who are in all Achaia.”

Galatians 1:2
“To the churches of Galatia.”

These greetings show that Paul’s letters were meant for entire regions, not just local churches.

2 Corinthians 10:10
“For his letters,” they say, “are weighty and powerful, but his bodily presence is weak, and his speech contemptible.”

Even his opponents knew and discussed his letters, plural—during his lifetime.

2 Peter 3:15–16 (likely early 60s AD):
“…as also in all his epistles… as they do also the rest of the Scriptures.”

Paul’s letters were already being grouped together and treated as Scripture.

Colossians 4:16 (disputed):
“…see that it is read also in the church of the Laodiceans…”

Bart Ehrman, agnostic scholar:
“The passage in Colossians suggests that even by the time of its composition—whoever wrote it—there was a custom of circulating Christian letters.” (Forged, 2011)

Early Christian Witness (95–180 AD)

Clement of Rome (c. 95 AD)
“Take up the epistle of the blessed Paul the Apostle. What did he write to you at the time when the Gospel first began to be preached?” (1 Clement 47)

Clement assumes the Corinthians still had Paul’s letter over 40 years later.

David F. Wright (Christian historian):
“The rhetoric and theological framing of 1 Clement are unmistakably Pauline, using patterns found in Galatians and Romans—even where exact verbal citation is absent.” (Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 2014)

Ignatius of Antioch (c. 110 AD)
“You are associates in the mysteries with Paul… who in every letter makes mention of you in Christ Jesus.” (To the Ephesians 12.2)

Ignatius refers to “every letter” of Paul, indicating a corpus already known to his readers.

Michael Holmes (Christian textual scholar):
“Ignatius’s epistles are built upon the structure and tone of Paul, especially in areas such as ecclesiology and unity.” (The Apostolic Fathers, 2nd ed.)

Polycarp of Smyrna (c. 110–140 AD)
“The blessed Paul wrote letters to you… which, if you study them, you will be able to build yourselves up in the faith.” (To the Philippians 3.2)

Polycarp speaks of “letters” plural—implying either multiple communications or a collection.

Kenneth Berding (Christian professor of New Testament):
“Polycarp’s theology and phraseology… show clear mimēsis of Pauline thought—not mere influence, but conscious imitation.” (Polycarp and Paul, Brill)

Theophilus of Antioch (c. 180 AD)
“Paul says: ‘If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you shall be saved.’” (To Autolycus 3.14, quoting Romans 10:9)

Theophilus refers to Romans as “Scripture.”

Irenaeus of Lyons (c. 180 AD)
“Paul… ‘There is one God… and one Lord Jesus Christ.’” (Against Heresies 3.12.12, quoting 1 Corinthians 8:6)

Irenaeus quotes all seven undisputed letters and explicitly names Paul.

Canon Lists and Heretical Canons

The Muratorian Fragment (c. 170–200 AD)
“As to the epistles of Paul, they themselves make clear to those desiring to understand which ones they are. First of all, he wrote to the Corinthians, addressing them in two letters. Then to the Ephesians, to the Philippians, to the Colossians, to the Galatians, to the Thessalonians—twice, and to the Romans. It is plain that he wrote these letters for the sake of instruction. There is yet another addressed to Philemon, one to Titus, and two to Timothy in affection and love. These are held sacred in the esteem of the Church and form part of the universal Church’s discipline and teaching.”

Marcion’s Canon (c. 140 AD)
The first known Christian canon was created by a heretic—and it included 10 Pauline letters.

Bart Ehrman:
“Marcion’s canon shows that the letters of Paul were already being collected and circulated as a group by the early second century.” (Lost Christianities, 2003)

The Importance of John’s Long Life

Irenaeus (c. 180 AD):
“Then John, the disciple of the Lord… lived on until the times of Trajan.” (Against Heresies 3.1.1)

Polycrates of Ephesus (c. 190 AD):
“John… being a priest, wore the high-priestly plate.”

If John was 20 years old in 30 AD, he would have been about 90 when Trajan’s reign began in 98 AD—allowing him to influence and oversee the preservation of apostolic teaching decades after Paul’s death.

Richard Bauckham:
“The Beloved Disciple… may well have been quite young during Jesus’ ministry. This possibility makes good sense of the tradition that he lived to extreme old age.” (Jesus and the Eyewitnesses, 2006)

Bart Ehrman:
“It is certainly possible—indeed plausible—that John was very young when he followed Jesus, which would help explain the later traditions about his longevity.” (How Jesus Became God, 2014)

Conclusion: Proven by Perseverance

We don’t have Paul’s original letters.
And we don’t have an unbroken chain of manuscripts from 50 to 200 AD.

But what we do have may be even more compelling:
A generation of people who lived and died for Paul’s message.

They didn’t preserve his letters in silence.
They preserved them through suffering.

They weren’t philosophers in libraries—they were men and women who had seen their lives overturned. Enemies became brothers. The immoral became upright. The fearful became fearless. And when persecution came, they didn’t flinch. They held to Paul’s gospel of Christ crucified and risen—because they had seen its power.

They copied Paul’s words because they were living what those words described.
They circulated them because they believed others could encounter the same Spirit they had.
And they called them Scripture because, to them, no other explanation made sense.

Miracles were reported. Communities of mutual love sprang up where none had existed. Even skeptics were forced to admit: something had changed.

If you’re agnostic, this doesn’t demand blind faith.

It invites a hard look at the kind of people who believed Paul’s words—and what happened when they did.

We’re not just trusting that the church preserved his letters.

We’re trusting why they preserved them.

Because those letters changed lives.

How Accurate Are Paul’s Letters? What the Manuscripts and Scholars Say

June 14, 2025 / Jason Conrad / Leave a comment

Manuscript Evidence for the Seven Undisputed Letters

Can we really know what Paul wrote nearly 2,000 years ago? This post explores the earliest manuscripts, key textual variants, and what even secular scholars say about the reliability of Paul’s seven undisputed letters.

Whether you approach the Bible with faith or skepticism, the transmission of Paul’s seven undisputed letters offers a rare meeting point where historians and believers find surprising agreement. These seven letters—Romans, 1 and 2 Corinthians, Galatians, Philippians, 1 Thessalonians, and Philemon—are universally accepted by scholars as genuine works of Paul. But can we be confident that the words we read today are the same ones Paul wrote in the 50s AD?

What Manuscripts Do We Actually Have?

Before the invention of the printing press, texts were copied by hand. That led to thousands of variations over time. But for Paul’s seven undisputed letters, we have a remarkable collection of early manuscripts and translations.

Approximate counts by language:

Greek: ~900 manuscripts
Latin: 3,000–4,000+ manuscripts
Coptic: 200–300 manuscripts
Syriac: 200–300 manuscripts
Other languages (Armenian, Gothic, Ethiopic, etc.): ~500 combined

Bart Ehrman, an agnostic scholar, says:
“We have more manuscripts of the New Testament than any other book from antiquity—many thousands. And many of these manuscripts date from quite early times.”
(Misquoting Jesus, 2005)

The Earliest Manuscript: P46

The earliest confirmed manuscript of Paul’s seven letters is Papyrus 46 (P46), dated between 175–225 AD.

It was discovered in Egypt and now resides in both Dublin and Michigan. It originally had 104 leaves, but only 86 survive.

P46 includes the following:

Romans 5:17–16:27 (chapters 1–5:16 are missing)
1 Corinthians 1:1–15:58 (chapter 16 missing)
2 Corinthians 1:1–9:6 (chapters 9:7–13:13 missing)
Galatians: fully preserved
Philippians: fully preserved
1 Thessalonians: fully preserved
Philemon: not included—likely in the missing final leaves

Brent Nongbri, a secular papyrologist, says:
“There is little doubt that additional material once followed the current end of the manuscript.”

By 200 AD, Paul’s letters were already being copied and circulated as a collection—less than 150 years after they were written.

Manuscripts Between 200 and 325 AD

To bridge the gap between Paul and the major codices of the fourth century, we have three key papyrus fragments:

P30 (c. 225–250): 1 Thessalonians 4:12–5:18
P65 (c. 200–250): 1 Thessalonians 1:3–2:13
P87 (c. 250–300): Philemon 13–15, 24–25

These fragments confirm continued copying of Paul’s letters across different regions before Christianity was legalized.

Then Come the Codices

Two of the most important Greek Bibles appear shortly after 325 AD:

Codex Vaticanus (c. 325–350): Contains all 7 undisputed letters; preserved in the Vatican Library
Codex Sinaiticus (c. 330–360): Also contains all 7; discovered at St. Catherine’s Monastery in Sinai

Despite coming from different regions, they show strong agreement with each other and with earlier papyri like P46 and P87.

Early Translations

By the early 4th century, Paul’s letters had also been translated into major Christian languages:

Old Latin (c. 250–300): Includes Romans and Galatians
Coptic (Sahidic dialect) (c. 300–325): Includes Galatians
Syriac: Citations from the letters appear by the early 4th century

This wide translation effort confirms the value and authority of Paul’s letters in diverse early communities.

What About Textual Variants?

Across all manuscripts of Paul’s seven letters, scholars estimate about 7,000–8,000 textual variants. That number may sound high—until you consider that these variants are spread across thousands of manuscripts written by hand over centuries.

More importantly, the vast majority of these variants are completely insignificant—they affect spelling, word order, or have no impact on the meaning at all.

Two Examples of Insignificant Variants:

Romans 12:11

“Serve the Lord” vs. “Serve the Spirit”
🡒 The difference is one Greek word—both emphasize faithful living and make theological sense.

Galatians 1:3

“God our Father” vs. “God the Father”
🡒 Both readings are grammatically and doctrinally acceptable. No core teaching is affected.

Bart Ehrman comments:
“Most of the textual changes in our manuscripts are completely insignificant.”
(Misquoting Jesus, 2005)

But Are There Any That Matter?

Yes, a few variants are more significant. Here are five that are often discussed:

Romans 8:1

Short: “There is therefore now no condemnation…”
Long: adds “…who walk not according to the flesh…”
🡒 The longer phrase is likely borrowed from verse 4—a case of scribal harmonization.

1 Thessalonians 2:7

“We were gentle among you” vs. “We were like children among you”
🡒 The difference hinges on a single Greek letter. Both are consistent with Paul’s tone and message.

Galatians 2:12

Some manuscripts omit “certain men from James”
🡒 Possibly removed to soften the perceived tension between Paul and the Jerusalem church.

1 Corinthians 14:34–35

These verses about women keeping silent appear in different places in some manuscripts or are marked with symbols
🡒 Their placement suggests that some early copyists were unsure of their originality.

Romans 5:1

“We have peace…” vs. “Let us have peace…”
🡒 A single vowel shifts the tone from statement to exhortation—both readings are ancient and meaningful.

Even in these cases, none of the variants creates a contradiction or changes Christian doctrine. They are precisely the kind of variations you’d expect in a vast and ancient copying tradition.

Eldon J. Epp, a respected textual critic, concludes:
“The massive number of manuscripts gives us confidence in recovering a reliable text.”
(Perspectives on New Testament Textual Criticism, 2005)

Conclusion: We Can Know What Paul Wrote

Paul’s letters were written around 50 AD. By 200 AD, we have Papyrus 46. Between 200 and 325, we have fragmentary manuscripts and early translations. By 350, we have complete codices that show strong agreement with the earlier copies.

Despite being copied by hand for centuries, the content of Paul’s seven letters remains remarkably stable.

What we read today is—by all major accounts—what Paul wrote.

Christianity Before Paul: The Traditions He Inherited

May 28, 2025 / Jason Conrad / Leave a comment

Was the Apostle Paul the founder of Christianity?

Some critics think so. They argue that Paul transformed the ethical teachings of Jesus into a new religion focused on worshiping Jesus himself.

But when we turn to Paul’s own writings—especially his seven undisputed letters—we find something very different. Paul repeatedly emphasizes that the core beliefs of the Christian faith were not his invention. Instead, he insists he was passing on traditions that were already established in the church before he began his ministry.

This post explores those pre-Pauline traditions and how they directly challenge the idea that Paul “created” Christianity.

The Claim: Paul Invented Christianity

Many modern scholars—especially those skeptical of the Christian faith—assert that Paul is responsible for transforming Jesus into the object of worship.

“The religion of Jesus was transformed into a religion about Jesus. This transformation was largely the work of the apostle Paul.”
— Bart D. Ehrman, Peter, Paul and Mary Magdalene (2006), p. 124

“Paul was the founder of Christianity as a new religion which broke away from Judaism… Jesus himself had no intention of founding a new religion.”
— Hyam Maccoby, The Mythmaker: Paul and the Invention of Christianity (1986), p. 15

But what does Paul say about this in his own letters?

A Pre-Existing Creed: 1 Corinthians 15:3–8

One of the most important passages in all of Paul’s letters is found in 1 Corinthians 15, where he writes:

“For I delivered to you first of all that which I also received: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, and that He was buried, and that He rose again the third day according to the Scriptures, and that He was seen by Cephas, then by the twelve. After that He was seen by over five hundred brethren at once… After that He was seen by James, then by all the apostles. Then last of all He was seen by me also, as by one born out of due time.”
— 1 Corinthians 15:3–8 (NKJV)

Paul’s use of the Greek verbs παραλαμβάνω (“I received”) and παραδίδωμι (“I delivered”) are not casual. These were technical terms for handing down authoritative teaching—especially in rabbinic Judaism.

“Paul explicitly says that he ‘received’ and ‘delivered’ the gospel, using the terminology of the transmission of tradition. This is how Jewish rabbis passed down teachings: from master to disciple.”
— E.P. Sanders, Paul: A Very Short Introduction (2001), p. 50

Even Bart Ehrman acknowledges this:

“Paul is not inventing the creed in 1 Corinthians 15:3–5; he is quoting it. The use of terms like ‘received’ and ‘delivered’ show that it was already being passed on as a tradition.”
— Ehrman, The New Testament (2016), p. 333

Multiple scholars agree that this creed originated within a few years of Jesus’ crucifixion, long before Paul’s letters were written.

“This is the earliest Christian tradition we have. It goes back at least to the early 30s—just a few years after Jesus died.”
— Ehrman, Did Jesus Exist? (2012), p. 230

“The elements in the tradition are to be dated to the first two years after the crucifixion of Jesus… not later than three years.”
— Gerd Lüdemann, The Resurrection of Jesus (1994), p. 38

“The creed in 1 Corinthians 15 must predate Paul. He’s clearly quoting an existing Christian formula.”
— Richard Carrier, On the Historicity of Jesus (2014), p. 536

The Lord’s Supper Tradition: 1 Corinthians 11:23–26

Paul also uses this same tradition language in 1 Corinthians 11, where he recounts Jesus’ words at the Last Supper:

“For I received from the Lord that which I also delivered to you…” (v. 23)

Even though Paul says he received this “from the Lord,” most scholars interpret this to mean from the Christian tradition about the Lord—not a direct revelation. The language and structure of the passage closely mirror what later appears in Luke 22, indicating that a standardized Eucharistic tradition was already being observed by early Christians before the Gospels were written.

“Paul is recounting a tradition. These were words of Jesus that had already been passed down.”
— Ehrman, The New Testament (2016), p. 333

Tradition Throughout Paul’s Letters

Paul’s other letters confirm the same pattern:

Galatians 1:9 – “If anyone preaches any other gospel than what you have received…”
Philippians 4:9 – “What you learned and received and heard and saw in me…”
Romans 6:17 – “That form of doctrine to which you were delivered…”

Paul consistently uses the language of handing on tradition—not creating it.

The Cultural Context: Jewish and Greco-Roman Parallels

This kind of tradition-based language was not unique to Paul. Both Jewish and Greco-Roman cultures emphasized the faithful transmission of teachings—often using similar terminology.

Jewish Examples

Josephus wrote: “…no one has been so bold as either to add anything to them, or to take anything from them, or to make any change in them… And these books have been handed down to us (παραδεδομένα).”
— Against Apion 1.8
Mishnah Avot 1:1 teaches: “Moses received the Torah from Sinai and handed it to Joshua, and Joshua to the elders…”

Greco-Roman Examples

Epictetus, the Stoic philosopher, said: “Have you not heard the philosophers say that certain doctrines have been handed down to us?”
— Discourses 1.9.13
Polybius, the Greek historian, commented: “I will not hand down (παραδώσω) this report unless I have verified it from multiple sources.”
— Histories 12.25e
Quintilian, the Roman rhetorician, emphasized continuity of instruction: “Our rhetorical training is drawn from principles passed down by our predecessors, and we must preserve their methods faithfully.”
— Institutio Oratoria, Preface

Whether written in Greek, Hebrew, or Latin, these texts reflect a shared cultural assumption: important knowledge is preserved by faithfully receiving and handing it on—not inventing it.

That’s exactly how Paul frames his gospel message—using the same vocabulary and logic respected by his Jewish and Gentile audiences alike.

Conclusion: The Real Origin of Christianity

Paul’s letters are the earliest Christian writings we have—but the message they proclaim is even older.

Even scholars who reject the Christian faith affirm that these traditions go back to the earliest days of the Jesus movement—before Paul’s letters, before his ministry, and even before his conversion.

And that’s where skeptical theories run into a contradiction.

Critics like Ehrman and Maccoby want to say that Paul created Christianity. But they also affirm that creeds, hymns, Eucharistic practices, and resurrection proclamations were already circulating before Paul ever wrote a letter.

That raises an important point:

If Paul is simply repeating and passing along what early Christians already believed and practiced, he was not the creator of Christianity.

What Paul gives us is not innovation, but transmission.
Not invention, but inheritance.

So if you want to know what the first Christians believed, you don’t start with the Gospels.
You don’t even really start with Paul’s letters.
You start with the creeds, poems, hymns, and traditions that Paul refers to in his letters to capture Christianity immediately after the crucifixion.

These are the oldest strands of the Christian faith—and they directly contradict the idea that Paul was its architect.
Instead, he was its most faithful messenger.

When Atheists and Christians Agree: The 7 Undisputed Letters of Paul

May 26, 2025May 26, 2025 / Jason Conrad / Leave a comment

What if one of the most skeptical atheist scholars and one of the most influential agnostic historians both agree that seven letters in the New Testament were genuinely written by Paul? That’s not just a talking point—it’s a shared conclusion across the scholarly spectrum, and it’s a powerful starting point for understanding the roots of Christianity.

These are known as the seven undisputed letters of Paul—Galatians, 1 & 2 Corinthians, Romans, 1 Thessalonians, Philippians, and Philemon. For over 150 years, both Christian and secular scholars have agreed that these letters were authentically written by the Apostle Paul.

This includes scholars like:

Bart Ehrman, an agnostic and New Testament critic, who writes:
“There is no doubt that Paul wrote Galatians, Romans, 1 and 2 Corinthians, 1 Thessalonians, Philippians, and Philemon.”
(Forged: Writing in the Name of God, p. 112)
Richard Carrier, an atheist and vocal mythicist, who says:
“The seven letters generally agreed upon as authentic… are sufficient to reconstruct the basic outline of Paul’s theology and missionary activity.”
(On the Historicity of Jesus, p. 510)

So what’s so important about these seven letters?

They Are the Earliest Christian Writings

These letters were written before any of the four Gospels—between 48 and 61 AD, during Paul’s active ministry. They offer us the oldest surviving descriptions of Jesus, the earliest theological explanations of his death and resurrection, and references to traditions already circulating among the first Christian communities.

Galatians Contains a 17-Year Timeline

One of the most important letters—Galatians—includes Paul’s autobiographical testimony. In chapters 1 and 2, he describes events spanning at least 17 years, including his own conversion, early preaching, and eventual meeting with Peter and James, the brother of Jesus.

When you line up Paul’s dates with the widely accepted crucifixion date of 30 AD, Paul’s conversion likely happened between 31 and 33 AD—that is, within 1 to 3 years of Jesus’ death.

This makes Paul not only a first-generation Christian, but someone who was contemporaneous with Jesus’ earliest followers, directly connected to the events and people we read about in the Gospels.

Paul Already Knew and Quoted Jesus’ Teachings

Even though Paul wrote before the Gospels were compiled, his letters contain direct echoes of Jesus’ teachings, including:

The Lord’s Supper (1 Corinthians 11:23–25) “This is My body… This cup is the new covenant in My blood…”
(cf. Matthew 26:26–28; Mark 14:22–24; Luke 22:19–20)
On divorce (1 Corinthians 7:10–11) “Now to the married I command, yet not I but the Lord…”
(cf. Mark 10:11–12; Luke 16:18)
On ministry support (1 Corinthians 9:14) “Even so the Lord has commanded that those who preach the gospel should live from the gospel.”
(cf. Luke 10:7)

This is solid evidence that Jesus’ teachings were already being preserved and passed along in oral form within just a few years of his death.

He Also Quotes Early Creeds and Hymns

Paul didn’t invent Christian doctrine from scratch—he inherited creeds and confessions that predate his writings. For example:

The Resurrection Creed (1 Corinthians 15:3–7): “Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures… he was buried… he was raised on the third day… and appeared to Peter, then to the Twelve…”
Scholars widely agree this creed originated within 3–5 years after Jesus’ death, making it the earliest known Christian confession.
The Christ Hymn (Philippians 2:6–11):
A poetic passage describing Jesus’ divine nature, incarnation, death, and exaltation: “He humbled Himself… even to the death of the cross. Therefore God also has highly exalted Him…”
Scholars believe this hymn predates Paul and was likely sung or recited by early believers before the Gospels were written.

These creeds show that Christian theology didn’t evolve slowly over centuries—it was rich, reverent, and centered on the risen Christ from the very beginning.

Why This Matters

When we read the seven undisputed letters of Paul, we’re not peering through layers of centuries-old church tradition. We’re reading first-generation testimony—from someone who was personally transformed by the very movement he once tried to destroy.

And when even critics of Christianity agree that these letters are genuine, that tells us something profound: these writings are a shared historical foundation, offering common ground for skeptics, seekers, and believers alike.