Multiplying by Mission: Session 6 at Mission Lake

October 13, 2025October 13, 2025 / Jason Conrad / Leave a comment

40% Growth Then, 5% Growth Now — What We Must Learn Anew

When Nero died by suicide in AD 68, the Roman Empire plunged into chaos.
In a single year four emperors—Galba, Otho, Vitellius, and finally Vespasian—rose and fell.
While Rome fought for power, Judea was already on fire.
The revolt that began under Gessius Florus would end with Jerusalem leveled, the Temple burned, and a turning point for both Jews and Christians.

1. Florus and the Spark of Revolt (AD 66)

Florus, the Roman governor of Judea, stole seventeen talents of silver from the Temple treasury—about 1,200 pounds of consecrated silver, worth roughly ten million U.S. dollars today.
This was not ordinary corruption; it was sacrilege.

“When Florus took seventeen talents out of the sacred treasure, and the multitude ran together in the Temple crying out against him, some of the youths went about the city carrying baskets and asking alms for poor Florus.”
— Josephus, Jewish War 2.14.5 §306–308 (c. AD 75–79)

His answer was bloodshed.

“Florus sent soldiers into Jerusalem and ordered a massacre. They slew about three thousand six hundred persons, women and children as well as men; and among them were citizens of Roman knighthood. Some were scourged and then crucified.”
— Josephus, Jewish War 2.14.9 (c. AD 75–79)

The outrage united the city. Rebels stormed the Antonia Fortress, the great Roman garrison on the northwest corner of the Temple Mount. To capture it was to challenge Rome itself.

“They compelled the garrison to surrender and then slaughtered them. Thus war was now openly begun.”
— Josephus, Jewish War 2.17.9 (c. AD 75–79)

Rome’s patience ended. Nero sent Vespasian, the empire’s most seasoned general, and his son Titus to crush the rebellion.

2. Vespasian in Galilee — Fire and Terror (AD 67)

Galilee became Rome’s first target. At Jotapata, a hill fortress commanded by Josephus himself, the walls fell after forty-seven days.

“Forty thousand were slain, and the city was utterly demolished; those who had hidden in caves were dragged out and slain.”
— Josephus, Jewish War 3.7.36 (c. AD 75–79)

Then came Gamla, a ridge-top city east of the Sea of Galilee. Its name means camel in Aramaic, and its fall was as steep as its slopes.

“Men and women alike threw themselves and their children down the precipices; and the whole city was covered with corpses.”
— Josephus, Jewish War 4.1.9 (c. AD 75–79)

Josephus summed it simply: “Galilee was filled with fire and blood.”
— Josephus, Jewish War 4.1.9 (c. AD 75–79)

The Roman campaign left the region in ruins, silencing nearly every center of resistance.

It was here that Josephus himself was captured. As commander of Jewish forces in Galilee, he had held out at Jotapata until the city fell. In his own account, he claims that while in captivity he prophesied that Vespasian would soon be emperor:

“You, O Vespasian, shall be Caesar and emperor, you and your son. Bind me now still closer, and keep me for yourself; for you, O Caesar, are lord, not only of me, but of the land and sea, and of all mankind.”
— Josephus, Jewish War 3.8.9 §401–403 (c. AD 75–79)

When that prophecy appeared to come true the following year, Vespasian spared his life, granted him Roman citizenship, and attached him to his household. From then on Josephus lived in Rome under imperial patronage, taking the family name Flavius from his patrons.

This is how Yosef ben Matityahu, a Jewish priest and rebel general, became Flavius Josephus, historian of the Jewish War. His writings—sometimes defensive, sometimes deferential toward Rome—remain the only detailed eyewitness record of Jerusalem’s destruction.

3. The Siege of Jerusalem (AD 70)

When Nero’s death recalled Vespasian to Rome, Titus took full command.
Inside Jerusalem, zealot factions fought one another while Roman legions built a five-mile siege wall to starve the city into surrender.
This wall—called a circumvallation—completely encircled Jerusalem. Built in only three days by tens of thousands of soldiers, it cut off every road and stopped all supplies. Famine would finish what the legions began.

“The famine grew severe and destroyed whole houses and families. The alleys were filled with dead bodies of the aged; children and youths swarmed about the market-places like shadows, and fell wherever famine overtook them. No one buried them; pity was strangers to men; for famine had confounded all natural feeling.”
— Josephus, Jewish War 5.12.3–4 (c. AD 75–79)

Then Josephus records one of antiquity’s darkest scenes:

“There was a certain woman named Mary, daughter of Eleazar, of the village Bathezor. Driven by famine and rage, she slew her infant son, roasted him, and ate one half, concealing the rest. When the soldiers smelled the roasted meat and rushed in, she said, ‘This is my own son; the deed is mine; eat, for I have eaten. Do not pretend to be more tender-hearted than a woman or more compassionate than a mother.’”
— Josephus, Jewish War 6.201–213 (c. AD 75–79)

Titus later claimed he had ordered the Temple spared:

“I myself called a council of war and urged that the Temple be saved; but the flame was beyond control, and the sanctuary was burned against my will.”
— Josephus, Jewish War 6.4.7 §254 (c. AD 75–79)

Josephus blames undisciplined troops; Tacitus sees deliberate policy:

“It was resolved to destroy the Temple that the religion of the Jews might be more completely abolished.”
— Tacitus, Histories 5.12 (c. AD 100–110)

*The Destruction of the Temple of Jerusalem* – Francesco Hayez, 1867, oil on canvas

Different motives, same outcome: the Temple fell.
For Christians, it confirmed the prophecy of Christ: “Not one stone shall be left upon another.” (Mark 13:2)

4. Crosses Without Number

“As for those who had fled from the city and were caught, they were first scourged and then tortured and finally crucified before the walls. In their fury and hatred the soldiers nailed up the prisoners in different postures, by way of jest, and the multitude was so great that room was wanting for the crosses, and crosses for the bodies.”
— Josephus, Jewish War 5.11.1 (c. AD 75–79)

Josephus later expands this account:

“Those who were taken outside the city he first scourged, and then tormented with all manner of tortures before crucifying them opposite the wall. Titus indeed felt pity for them, but their number was so great that there was no room for the crosses nor crosses for the bodies. About five hundred were crucified each day, and the soldiers, in their rage and hatred, amused themselves by crucifying some one way and some another, until, owing to the multitude, there was no space left for the crosses nor crosses for the bodies.”
— Josephus, Jewish War 6.1.1 (c. AD 75–79)

The same empire that boasted of order and civilization turned execution into entertainment.
The hills around Jerusalem stood thick with crosses—not yet symbols of redemption, but monuments of Rome’s rule through fear.

5. Aftermath — Slavery, Spectacle, and Tax

Through Rome’s streets the captives marched, carrying the Menorah and sacred vessels. Coins were struck proclaiming IUDAEA CAPTA—“Judea Captured.” Various versions of these coins were struck and used for 25 years under Vespasian and his two sons Titus and Domitian.

IMP CAES VESPASIAN AUG PM TR P COS III = Commander Caesar Vespasian Augustus, Chief Priest, Holder of Tribunician Power, Consul for the Third Time; IUDEA CAPTA S C = Judea Captured by decree of the Senate

“He decreed that all Jews throughout the world should pay each year two drachmas to the Capitol in Rome, as they had previously paid to the Temple in Jerusalem.”
— Dio Cassius, Roman History 66.7 (c. AD 200–220)

The fiscus Judaicus turned a holy offering into tribute for pagan gods.
Jewish Christians, still classed as Jews, were forced to pay the same tax of defeat.

Meanwhile, many early believers saw a deeper reason for Jerusalem’s ruin: the death of James the Just, the brother of Jesus and leader of the church in Jerusalem.

“Festus was now dead, and Albinus was but upon the road; so Ananus, who had become high priest, assembled the Sanhedrin of judges, and brought before them the brother of Jesus, who was called Christ, whose name was James, and some others; and when he had formed an accusation against them as breakers of the law, he delivered them to be stoned.”
— Josephus, Antiquities 20.9.1 §200–203 (c. AD 93)

Hegesippus, a second-century Jewish Christian, adds detail:

“They placed James on the pinnacle of the Temple and cried, ‘Tell us, O righteous one, what is the door of Jesus?’ And he answered with a loud voice, ‘Why do you ask me concerning the Son of Man? He sitteth at the right hand of the Great Power, and shall come on the clouds of heaven.’ Then they began to stone him, and a fuller took the club with which he beat clothes and struck the righteous one on the head, and so he suffered martyrdom.”
— Hegesippus in Eusebius, Ecclesiastical History 2.23.10–12 (c. AD 170, quoted c. AD 310–325)

Hegesippus concludes that the siege of Jerusalem followed soon after James’s death, calling it divine judgment:

“Immediately after this Vespasian began to besiege them; and they remembered the saying of Isaiah the prophet, ‘Let us take away the righteous man, because he is troublesome to us; therefore they shall eat the fruit of their doings.’ Such was their lot, and they suffered these things for the sake of James the Just.”
— Hegesippus in Eusebius, Ecclesiastical History 2.23.18 (c. AD 170, quoted c. AD 310–325)

Eusebius agrees, closing his account:

“These things happened to the Jews to avenge James the Just, who was the brother of Jesus that is called Christ. For, as Josephus says, these things befell them in accordance with God’s vengeance for the death of James the Just, which they had committed, although he was a most righteous man.”
— Eusebius, Ecclesiastical History 2.23.19–20 (c. AD 310–325)

From this moment on, many Christians saw the destruction of Jerusalem not only as Rome’s triumph, but as God’s judgment for rejecting Christ and murdering His righteous servant.

6. The Arch of Titus — The Empire’s Theology in Stone (AD 81)

When Titus died, the Senate declared him divine. The arch still standing on the Via Sacra reads:

“The Senate and People of Rome [dedicated this] to the deified Titus Vespasian Augustus, son of the deified Vespasian.”

Inside its vault, carvings show Roman soldiers bearing the Temple treasures.

“They brought the Menorah and the table of the bread of the Presence, and the last of the spoils was the Law of the Jews; after these, a great number of captives followed.”
— Josephus, Jewish War 7.5.5 (c. AD 75–79)

At the top of the arch inside is the depiction of Titus’ ascension to heaven as a god on the wings of an eagle.

For Rome, the arch proclaimed the victory of its gods.
For Christians, it stood as a silent confirmation of prophecy: the Temple of stone was gone, but the Temple of Christ remained.

7. The Flight to Pella — Revelation and Refuge

Amid the ruins of Jerusalem’s revolt, one community escaped—the believers who remembered Christ’s warning to flee.

“The people of the church in Jerusalem had been commanded by a revelation, vouchsafed to approved men there before the war, to leave the city and to dwell in a certain town of Perea called Pella. And when those who believed in Christ had come thither from Jerusalem, then, as if the holy men had altogether deserted the royal city of the Jews and the whole land of Judea, the judgment of God at last overtook them for their abominations.”
— Eusebius, Ecclesiastical History 3.5.3 (c. AD 310–325)

Eusebius attributes their escape to a divine revelation, while Epiphanius explains it as obedience to Christ’s prophecy:

“When all the disciples were settled in Pella because of Christ’s prophecy about the siege, they remained there until the destruction of Jerusalem.”
— Epiphanius, Panarion 29.7.7–8 (c. AD 375)

Different explanations—same event. The believers crossed the Jordan to Pella, a Decapolis city about sixty miles northeast of Jerusalem, where they waited out the war.
Their flight fulfilled Jesus’ own words (Luke 21:20–21).
What looked like retreat was obedience.

8. The Nazarenes — Law-Observant, Christ-Confessing

The first branch to emerge from that exile was the Nazarenes—Jewish believers who kept the Mosaic Law yet confessed Jesus as the divine Son of God.
They were the losing party in the Council of Jerusalem (Acts 15).

At that council, certain men from Judea began teaching that Gentile converts must keep the Law of Moses to be saved:

“Some men came down from Judea and were teaching the brothers, ‘Unless you are circumcised according to the custom of Moses, you cannot be saved.’”
— Acts 15:1

Later Luke identifies who pressed the issue:

“But some of the sect of the Pharisees who believed rose up, saying, ‘It is necessary to circumcise them and to command them to keep the law of Moses.’”
— Acts 15:5

Peter and James ruled that Gentiles need not bear that yoke:

“We should not trouble those of the Gentiles who turn to God, but should write to them to abstain from things polluted by idols, from sexual immorality, from what has been strangled, and from blood.”
— Acts 15:19–20

Those Jewish believers who could not release Torah observance continued as a community of Torah-keeping Christians—the Nazarenes.

Two decades later they were still strong. When Paul returned to Jerusalem near the end of his ministry, James the Just, the same leader later martyred near the Temple, recognized their influence:

“You see, brother, how many myriads of Jews there are who have believed, and they are all zealous for the Law… Therefore do what we tell you: we have four men who have taken a vow; take them and purify yourself along with them, and pay their expenses, so that all may know that there is nothing in what they have been told about you, but that you yourself also live in observance of the Law.”
— Acts 21:20, 23–24

James’s advice shows that the Nazarenes were not fringe but central within the Jerusalem church.

Centuries later, Jerome described them:

“The adherents to this sect are known commonly as Nazarenes; they believe in Christ the Son of God, born of the Virgin Mary; and they say that He who suffered under Pontius Pilate and rose again is the same as the one in whom we believe.”
— Jerome, Letter 75 to Augustine (AD 398–403)

“The Nazarenes accept Messiah in such a way that they do not cease to observe the old Law.”
— Jerome, Commentary on Isaiah 8:14 (AD 398–403)

Even Epiphanius, who condemned most sects, writes:

The Nazarenes are Jews who keep the customs of the Law but also believe in Christ. They say that Jesus was born of the Virgin Mary by the Holy Spirit. They believe that God created all things, that Jesus is His Son, and that the resurrection of the dead has already begun in Him… As for their understanding of Christ, I am not certain—whether they have been misled by false teachers who call Him merely human, or whether, as I think, they confess that He was born of Mary by the Holy Spirit.
— Epiphanius, Panarion 29.7.5–6 (c. AD 375)

Epiphanius lists their beliefs as orthodox and then admits, “I cannot say whether they have been deceived or whether they confess the truth.”
Had they denied Christ’s divinity, he would have said so.
His hesitation confirms that the Nazarenes were orthodox in belief, Jewish in culture—the first generation of Messianic Jews bridging synagogue and church.

9. The Ebionites — The First Denial of Christ’s Divinity

A second group took a different path. Epiphanius places their origin after the flight to Pella:

“The Ebionites are later than the Nazoraeans… their sect began after the flight from Jerusalem.”
— Epiphanius, Panarion 29.7.7–8 (c. AD 375)

They taught that Jesus was a mere man chosen by God, denied the virgin birth, and altered Scripture to fit their beliefs.

“Those who are called Ebionites use the Gospel according to Matthew only, and repudiate the Apostle Paul, maintaining that he was an apostate from the Law.”
— Irenaeus, Against Heresies 1.26.2 (c. AD 180)

“The Ebionites believe that He was a mere man, born of Joseph and Mary according to the common course of nature, and that He became righteous through the progress of His moral character.”
— Origen, Commentary on Matthew 16.12 (c. AD 248)

“They falsify the genealogical tables in Matthew’s Gospel, saying that He was begotten of a man and a woman, because they maintain that Jesus is really a man and was justified by His progress in virtue, and that He was called Christ because the Spirit of God descended upon Him at His baptism. They say that this same Spirit, which had come upon Him, was taken away and left Him before the Passion and went back to God; and that then, after His death and resurrection, this same Spirit returned to Him again. Thus they deny that He is God, though they do not deny that He was a man.”
— Epiphanius, Panarion 30.14.3–5 (c. AD 375)

They also spread a slander about Paul:

“They say that Paul was a Greek who came to Jerusalem and lived there for a time. He desired to marry a daughter of the priests but was refused. Out of anger and disappointment he turned against circumcision, the Sabbath, and the Law. Because of this, they claim, he wrote against these things and founded a new heresy.”
— Epiphanius, Panarion 30.16.6–9 (c. AD 375)

For the Ebionites, Jerusalem’s destruction was not punishment for rejecting Christ but for accepting the apostolic Gospel.
They blamed Paul and the church that followed him for turning Israel away from the Law.
Thus they reversed the very lesson of history that Josephus, Hegesippus, and Eusebius had drawn from the death of James the Just.
Where the Nazarenes preserved unity in diversity, the Ebionites cut themselves off from the apostolic faith.

10. Three Waves of Testimony and the Apostolic Standard

When we date the earliest Christian writings, we find three waves of testimony—sources acknowledged even by skeptical historians as genuine first-century evidence.
They give us the historical core around which all later writings revolve.

Three Waves of Early Christian Testimony

Wave of Witness	Approximate Date	Content & Description	Authority and Significance
Creeds	AD 30s	1 Corinthians 15:3–5 — “Christ died, was buried, and rose again according to the Scriptures.” Philippians 2:6–11 — The Christ-hymn proclaiming His pre-existence, incarnation, humility, and exaltation.	The earliest confessions of faith; already proclaim Jesus as divine and demand worship.
Paul’s Epistles	AD 48–61	The seven undisputed letters of Paul — Romans, 1 & 2 Corinthians, Galatians, Philippians, 1 Thessalonians, and Philemon.	The interpretation of Christ’s work by Paul himself, written within the lifetime of the apostles; Paul quotes and affirms the early creeds as authoritative revelation.
Synoptic Gospels	AD 50s–60s	Matthew, Mark, and Luke — written within the first generation after Jesus, preserving eyewitness memory of His life, teaching, death, and resurrection.	The formal written record of what the earliest witnesses proclaimed; confirms and expands the message already present in the creeds and letters.

This Philippians hymn is not later theology; it is the earliest Christian confession we possess.
It begins with divinity, not humanity.
It declares that the one “existing in the form of God” became man, died on a cross, and was exalted so that every knee should bow and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord.
It is a proclamation of His divinity and a demand for worship from the very start of the Christian movement.

Modern critics such as Bart Ehrman claim that belief in Jesus’ divinity was a late development, yet their own dating of the evidence proves the opposite.
The earliest sources—the creeds Paul quotes—already worship Him as divine, and Paul treats those creeds as authoritative revelation.
From the beginning, the church bowed to a divine Christ, not a human teacher slowly exalted by legend.

Measured by that apostolic standard, the Nazarenes remained faithful to the original confession, honoring Paul’s letters and the earliest creeds.
The Ebionites, however, altered the Gospels, repudiated Paul, and rejected the Philippians 2 creed, denying Christ’s divinity and placing themselves outside the apostolic faith.

11. Dating the Gospels

Critical scholars commonly date Mark around AD 70, arguing that Jesus’ prophecy of the Temple’s destruction must have been written after it happened.
But this logic assumes that prophecy is impossible—a philosophical bias, not a historical fact.
If prophecy is real, the foundation for late dating collapses.

Even on their own terms, critics face contradictions.
They argue that Matthew copied Mark and therefore must be later, yet the Ebionites were already using and editing Matthew shortly after Jerusalem’s fall.
If Matthew was being altered in the 70s, it had to exist before then—and if Matthew depended on Mark, Mark must be earlier still.
The evidence forces the Synoptic Gospels back into the 60s or even 50s—within the lifetime of eyewitnesses.

Paul’s letters tighten the timeline further.
In 1 Corinthians, written about AD 54–55, Paul quotes Gospel material three times:

1 Corinthians 7:10 echoes Mark 10:11–12 on divorce — “not I, but the Lord.”
1 Corinthians 9:14 recalls Luke 10:7 — “the Lord commanded that those who proclaim the gospel should get their living by the gospel.”
1 Corinthians 11:23–25 recounts the words of institution at the Lord’s Supper, matching Luke 22:19–20 and Matthew 26:26–28.

These parallels show that the Gospel traditions were already written—or at least formally fixed—by the early 50s.
Paul quotes them as Scripture, not rumor, expecting his readers to recognize their authority.
This means the Gospels, or their written sources, predate 1 Corinthians itself—placing them within twenty years of the crucifixion.

Thus the timeline of Christian testimony runs not forward into myth but backward into eyewitness memory:

Creeds (AD 30s): the original confession of Christ’s death, resurrection, and divine status.
Paul’s Epistles (AD 48–61): the interpretation of those events by Paul himself, written within the lifetime of the apostles.
Synoptic Gospels (AD 50s–60s): the written preservation of what the eyewitnesses had proclaimed from the beginning.

When the evidence is allowed to speak for itself, it shows that the worship of Jesus as divine and the written record of His life both originate within living memory of His death and resurrection.
Even those who date the Gospel of John later, around the 90s, acknowledge that the Synoptics—and the faith they record—were already established decades earlier.
Christianity’s foundation is not legend developed over centuries—it is history written by witnesses and verified by worship.

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.

Faith in the Age of Commodus: From Senate Martyrs to Catacomb Worship

September 13, 2025 / Jason Conrad / Leave a comment

When Marcus Aurelius died in AD 180, the Roman world changed. For nearly a century the empire had been governed by what historians often call the “five good emperors”: Nerva, Trajan, Hadrian, Antoninus Pius, and Marcus Aurelius. Each was chosen by adoption, trained for years, and admired for discipline and stability. But Marcus broke the pattern. He left the empire to his son, Commodus — a move that ancient writers say marked the decline of Rome’s golden age.

Executions in the Imperial Household

At the very end of Marcus’ reign, even members of the imperial household were executed. Dio Cassius records:

“Many others, however, who adopted foreign customs were persecuted, and great numbers of them perished. And, in particular, those who were accused of atheism were executed. Among these were several of those who belonged to the imperial household.” (Roman History 72.4, Loeb)

The Romans used the charge of atheism not in our modern sense of denying all gods, but of rejecting the gods of Rome. Jews and Christians were the ones most often branded as atheists, because they refused to sacrifice to the gods and the emperor. The fact that Dio says members of the imperial household were executed strongly suggests that Christianity had already reached into Caesar’s own palace — and that believers there paid with their lives.

This makes what followed under Commodus all the more striking.

The Character of Commodus

Dio Cassius, who lived through Commodus’ reign, offers us a vivid portrait:

“Commodus was not naturally wicked, but, on the contrary, as guileless as any man that ever lived. His great simplicity, however, together with his cowardice, made him the slave of his companions, and it was through them that he at first, out of ignorance, missed the better life and then was led on into lustful and cruel habits, which soon became second nature.” (Roman History 72.1, Loeb)

Herodian likewise describes Commodus as a man given over to entertainment and self-indulgence:

“He showed no interest in military campaigns nor in the hardships of war; he devoted his entire attention to the amusements of the circus and the theater, delighting in gladiatorial spectacles and contests with wild beasts.” (Roman History 1.15.9, Loeb)

This is the emperor who styled himself Hercules, fought in the arena, and renamed Rome after himself. Ancient authors despised him as cruel and debased.

And yet — Christians found unexpected favor in his reign.

A Turning Point for Christians

Eusebius tells us:

“In the time of Commodus, our affairs took an easier turn. By the grace of God the emperor’s concubine, Marcia by name, who was highly honored by him, was friendly to the Christians. She rendered many favors to our brethren, for she requested the emperor to grant the release of those who had been condemned to labor in the mines of Sardinia. And he readily granted her request.” (Church History 5.21, Loeb)

Think of the contrast: under Marcus, Christians in the imperial household were executed; under Commodus, a member of the imperial household — his concubine Marcia — became the protector of Christians, winning freedom for many. The palace went from being a place of death to a place of refuge.

Eusebius’ Perspective

Eusebius interprets Marcia’s intervention as proof that the whole situation of Christians “took an easier turn” under Commodus. But this is the same mistake he had made when describing Hadrian. In Church History 4.9, he claimed that Hadrian’s rescript lessened persecution, when in fact it only required Christians to be executed after formal accusation and trial. The legal status of Christianity never changed.

So too under Commodus: while individual figures like Marcia could grant relief, the “ancient law” still condemned Christians once accused. As the case of Apollonius shows, the empire’s hostility remained intact.

The Case of Apollonius

Eusebius also preserves the case of Apollonius, a Christian senator:

“At this time Apollonius, a senator who was well learned and of great distinction, came forward as a champion of the faith. Accused by one of his servants, he gave an eloquent and philosophical defense of Christianity before the Senate. Yet he was not permitted to go free, but in accordance with an ancient law that no Christian who had once been brought before the tribunal should be dismissed unpunished, he was condemned and executed.” (Church History 5.21, Loeb)

Apollonius was not a slave or artisan, but a senator — a member of Rome’s ruling elite. This alone shows how far Christianity had spread in just 150 years. Yet even his status could not shield him from the law.

What Did “Ancient Law” Mean?

Eusebius says Apollonius died under an “ancient law.” For Romans, a law could be called ancient (vetus or antiqua) if it had been established by earlier emperors or the Senate and had been observed continuously. It did not require centuries of distance. Cicero used vetus in the 1st century BC to describe laws less than a hundred years old. By Apollonius’ time, Nero’s precedent (AD 64) was already more than a century old — plenty of time for it to be viewed as antiqua lex.

This fits perfectly with Trajan’s rescript to Pliny (c. 112). When Pliny asked how to handle Christians, Trajan didn’t invent a new rule; he assumed the principle was already established. His ruling — “They are not to be sought out, but if accused and proven guilty, they must be punished” — shows that the criminality of Christianity itself was a recognized policy across the empire. By Commodus’ day, the Senate could legitimately call this an “ancient law.”

So the martyrdom of Apollonius was not local prejudice. It was the outworking of a Roman legal culture that had, since Nero, considered Christians criminal by definition.

Christianity in High Places — and Under Empire-Wide Law

By Commodus’ reign, Christianity had a paradoxical position. On the one hand, it had entered the palace: Marcia secured the release of prisoners. It had entered the Senate: Apollonius confessed Christ before Rome’s rulers. On the other hand, the very same Senate invoked the ancient law that bound them to execute Christians once accused.

This shows why skeptical historians are mistaken to portray persecution as local and sporadic. The record of Apollonius proves otherwise: Christianity had been treated as a crime throughout the empire since Nero’s precedent. Trajan’s rescript only confirmed what was already assumed to be Roman policy. By calling it an “ancient law,” the Senate in Commodus’ day acknowledged that Christians had been subject to execution for generations.

The stories we possess come from certain places — Lyons, Smyrna, Rome, Bithynia — but the law itself was empire-wide. Every Christian in every province lived under its shadow.

And yet, Christians did not retreat into silence. Even while the empire branded them criminals, they carved out spaces where their hope was made visible. Nowhere is this clearer than in the catacombs of Rome, which became both burial grounds and gathering places for a people who lived under constant threat.

What Are Catacombs?

Catacombs are underground burial galleries dug out of the soft volcanic stone (tufa) beneath Rome and other cities. They began as family tomb networks, but by the late 2nd century Christians began using them extensively. Unlike pagan necropoleis, which were mostly above ground, catacombs gave Christians a way to bury their dead together and to mark their faith with symbols of hope — the fish, the anchor, the Good Shepherd.

They were not secret hideouts (as legend sometimes imagines) but cemeteries that doubled as gathering spaces. Christians would hold memorial meals (refrigeria) on the anniversaries of a martyr’s death, or gather to pray and read Scripture. These underground spaces gave Christianity a physical presence in Rome that was both practical and symbolic.

Who Was Domitilla?

The Catacomb of Domitilla takes its name from Flavia Domitilla, a noblewoman of the Flavian dynasty (the same imperial family as Vespasian, Titus, and Domitian). Ancient sources say she was exiled by Domitian, possibly for sympathy with Jews or Christians.

Her property outside Rome became the site of one of the largest Christian cemeteries. This link to the Flavian family shows that Christianity was not only present among the poor but was also connected, even from the 1st century, with Roman aristocracy.

The Unique Chamber in Domitilla

Within the Catacomb of Domitilla is a chamber unlike any other known space from this early period — the so-called hypogeum of the Flavians:

Architectural design: benches carved into the walls on three sides, allowing 30–40 people to recline for meals.
Decoration: Christian frescoes on the plastered walls — symbols like the fish, the Good Shepherd, and biblical scenes.
Function: communal banquets for the dead (refrigeria), and likely the Eucharist as well.

This is the earliest surviving space adapted for Christian assembly. Before this, house churches left no archaeological trace distinct from other homes. The Domitilla chamber is different: it was carved and decorated in ways that mark it as intentionally Christian.

Here, during the same years Apollonius stood in the Senate and Marcia interceded in the palace, Christians were gathering underground in spaces designed for their worship and remembrance.

Christian Authors and Contested Writings

The reign of Commodus also coincided with one of the richest bursts of Christian literature in the 2nd century. While some believers were dying under law and others were carving chambers in the catacombs, Christian teachers were laying down the intellectual and theological foundations of the faith.

Irenaeus of Lyons

Irenaeus had been born in Asia Minor, most likely in Smyrna, where as a youth he had listened to Polycarp, the disciple of the apostle John. Later he moved west to Gaul, where he served as a presbyter in Lyons. After the persecutions of AD 177 that left his community devastated and their bishop Pothinus martyred, Irenaeus returned from a mission in Rome and was chosen as the new bishop of Lyons.

It was from this place of pain and resilience that he composed one of the most important works in Christian history. Its title was “Detection and Overthrow of Knowledge Falsely So-Called” — what we call Against Heresies. Unlike earlier apologists (Justin Martyr, Athenagoras), who wrote defenses to pagan rulers, Irenaeus aimed his work inward: to protect Christians from the flood of Gnostic sects and rival “gospels” circulating in his day.

He begins by describing the danger:

“They set forth their own compositions, boasting that they have more gospels than there really are. But in truth they have not gospels which are not full of blasphemy. For indeed there can be no more or fewer than the number of the gospels we have declared.” (Against Heresies 3.11.9, Loeb)

On Persecution

“The suffering of the righteous… is not new, but has been foreshown by the prophets, and fulfilled in Christ, and is now being fulfilled in the Church.” (Against Heresies 5.30.1, Loeb)

Here he interprets martyrdom itself — the loss of his own flock — as fulfillment of God’s plan. Persecution was not failure, but continuity with Christ.

On the Unity of the Church

“The Church, though dispersed throughout the whole world, even to the ends of the earth, has received from the apostles and their disciples this faith… She likewise believes these things as if she had but one soul and the same heart, and she proclaims them, and teaches them, and hands them down with perfect harmony, as if she possessed but one mouth. For, although the languages of the world are dissimilar, yet the import of the tradition is one and the same.” (Against Heresies 1.10.2, Loeb)

Even after his own community was ravaged, Irenaeus could insist that the church was one body, one voice, one heart across the world.

On the Fourfold Gospel

“It is not possible that the Gospels can be either more or fewer in number than they are. For, since there are four zones of the world in which we live, and four principal winds, while the Church is scattered throughout all the world… it is fitting that she should have four pillars, breathing out immortality on every side.” (Against Heresies 3.11.8, Loeb)

Against those who produced “more gospels,” Irenaeus anchored the church to the fourfold Gospel.

On Apostolic Continuity

“For it is a matter of necessity that every Church should agree with this Church [Rome], on account of its preeminent authority… The blessed apostles, then, having founded and built up the Church, committed into the hands of Linus the office of the episcopate… and now, in the twelfth place from the apostles, Eleutherus holds the inheritance of the episcopate.” (Against Heresies 3.3.2–3, Loeb)

This list of bishops, written during Commodus’ reign, was a defiant declaration: the church had unbroken succession from the apostles, while heretical sects had none.

On Christian Generosity

“The Jews were constrained to a regular payment of tithes; but Christians, who have received liberty, assign all their possessions to the Lord, bestowing joyfully and freely not the lesser portions of their property, since they have the hope of better things; like that poor widow who cast all her living into the treasury of God.” (Against Heresies 4.18.2)

This illustrates the distinctive spirit of the early church: while Roman officials often accused Christians of atheism or secrecy, their actual way of life was one of generosity, freely giving to the Lord and to the poor.

In Irenaeus we see the Christian mind under Commodus: scarred by persecution, yet confident in Scripture, united across the world, rooted in apostolic succession, and marked by radical generosity.

The Muratorian Fragment

The Muratorian Fragment, written around AD 180 in Rome, is our earliest surviving canonical list. It is preserved in a damaged Latin manuscript, so the very beginning and end are missing, but what remains is invaluable. It shows that by Commodus’ reign, the church already recognized a core New Testament canon.

On the Gospels

The opening lines are broken, but it clearly names Luke and John as the third and fourth Gospels — which implies Matthew and Mark were already listed. It says:

“The third book of the Gospel is that according to Luke… The fourth Gospel is that of John, one of the disciples.”

This affirms what Irenaeus said about the fourfold Gospel: no more, no fewer.

On Acts

“The Acts of all the apostles have been written in one book. Luke so comprised them for the most excellent Theophilus, because the several events took place when he was present.”

Acts was treated as authoritative history, alongside the Gospels.

On Paul’s Letters

“The blessed apostle Paul himself, following the order of his predecessor John, writes only to seven churches by name… But although he writes twice to the Corinthians and Thessalonians for correction, it is yet shown — one Church is recognized as being spread throughout the whole earth.”

Paul’s letters are described in a symbolic sevenfold pattern (like Revelation’s seven churches), but the list also included Philemon, Titus, and Timothy.

On Catholic Epistles and Revelation

The fragment accepts Jude and two letters of John. It recognizes the Apocalypse of John, and even mentions the Apocalypse of Peter — though it notes that some in the church did not want it read publicly.

On Spurious Works

The fragment draws a sharp line against forgeries:

“But the Epistle of Paul to the Laodiceans, and another to the Alexandrians, forged in Paul’s name for the heresy of Marcion, must be rejected… neither may gall be mixed with honey.”

This shows the church was not passively receiving every book that claimed apostolic authorship — it was testing and rejecting fakes.

On the Shepherd of Hermas

“But Hermas wrote the Shepherd quite recently, in our times, in the city of Rome, while his brother Pius was occupying the bishop’s chair. And therefore it ought indeed to be read; but it cannot be read publicly to the people in church, either among the prophets, whose number is complete, or among the apostles.”

This is remarkable. It shows that Roman Christians in Commodus’ day valued Hermas, but they knew it was recent and therefore not apostolic Scripture. It was good for private devotion, not for the public canon.

Why the Muratorian Fragment Matters

The Muratorian Fragment proves that by Commodus’ reign, the church already:

Recognized the four Gospels as the only Gospels.
Affirmed Acts, Paul’s letters, Revelation, and several Catholic Epistles.
Debated a few books (like the Apocalypse of Peter).
Rejected outright forgeries tied to heretical groups.
Distinguished between useful writings (like Hermas) and canonical Scripture.

Canon formation was not a 4th-century invention; it was already well advanced in the 2nd century.

Theophilus of Antioch

Theophilus, bishop of Antioch until about AD 183, was the earliest Christian writer to use the word “Trinity” (trias). Earlier Christians (like Justin Martyr) had spoken in triadic ways — Father, Son, and Spirit — but Theophilus is the first whose writings explicitly use the term.

On the Trinity

“In like manner also the three days which were before the luminaries are types of the Trinity (trias), of God, and His Word, and His Wisdom… The first is God, the second is the Son, the third is the Spirit of prophecy.” (To Autolycus 2.15)

This is one of the earliest explicit triadic statements: Father, Son, and Spirit named together.

On Scripture

“But if you will give yourself to a more exact study of the Scriptures, you will learn from them more accurately concerning God and His Christ, and concerning all things that are revealed.” (To Autolycus 2.9)

On Creation

“God, having His own Word internal within His own bowels, begat Him, emitting Him along with His own Wisdom before all things. He had this Word as a helper in the things that were created by Him, and by Him He made all things.” (To Autolycus 2.10)

On Idolatry

“Do not wonder if the truth is belabored by the lie; for first the lie is more ancient, but truth appeared later. For the truth always conquers, and falsehood is overcome.” (To Autolycus 1.14)

These words capture the apologetic spirit of Commodus’ era: Christians accused of atheism for rejecting idols, yet proclaiming Christ as the eternal Word, and the Spirit as the Spirit of prophecy.

Gnostic Rivals — The Gospel of Judas and Other Apocrypha

At the same time that orthodox leaders were defending the apostolic faith, rival groups were producing their own “gospels” and “acts.”

Irenaeus described one such group, the Cainites:

“They declare that Judas the traitor was thoroughly acquainted with these things, and that he alone, knowing the truth as no others did, accomplished the mystery of the betrayal. They produce a fictitious history which they style the Gospel of Judas.” (Against Heresies 1.31.1, Loeb)

For centuries this was our only evidence for the Gospel of Judas. Then, in the late 20th century, a Coptic manuscript was discovered in Egypt. Its contents matched Irenaeus’ account exactly.

In the text, Jesus mocks the disciples’ prayers:

“When he came to his disciples … they were gathered together and offering a prayer of thanksgiving over the bread. When he approached, he laughed.” (Gospel of Judas 33)

And to Judas, he offers a shocking commendation:

“You will exceed all of them. For you will sacrifice the man that clothes me.” (Gospel of Judas 56)

This bizarre inversion makes Judas the hero, praised for helping to discard Jesus’ human body. The discovery confirmed Irenaeus was right: the Gnostic “gospel” glorified the betrayer and denied Christ’s true incarnation.

Other apocrypha from this period were equally strange:

Apocryphal Gospels (30+ known by this time)

Gospel of Judas — Judas exalted for “sacrificing the man that clothes me.”
Gospel of Truth — Valentinian meditation redefining salvation as knowledge.
Gospel of the Egyptians — cited by Clement of Alexandria; ascetic in tone.
Gospel of Peter — fragment portrays a docetic Christ whose body feels no pain.
Gospel of the Hebrews — fragments used among Jewish-Christian groups.
Infancy Gospel of Thomas — boy Jesus curses playmates and strikes them dead, then raises them again.
Protoevangelium of James — elaborates Mary’s miraculous birth and childhood.
Gospel of the Ebionites — fragments depict a vegetarian Jesus, denying his divinity.
Gospel of the Nazarenes — fragments cited by Jerome.

Apocryphal Acts

Acts of Peter — includes the “Quo Vadis” scene; Peter crucified upside down.
Acts of Paul and Thecla — Thecla survives fire and beasts, preaches, baptizes herself.
Acts of John — Jesus leaves “no footprints,” appears in shifting forms.
Acts of Andrew — legendary missionary journeys and martyrdom of Andrew.
Acts of Thomas — missionary work in India, includes the famous “Hymn of the Pearl.”

Apocryphal Apocalypses

Apocalypse of Peter — visions of heaven and hell; debated in some churches.
Apocalypse of Paul — visionary journeys that became very popular later.
Apocalypse of Adam — Gnostic cosmology denying the Creator God.
Apocalypse of Zephaniah — Jewish-Christian apocalypse with angelic visions.

Other Gnostic Treatises Already Circulating

Gospel of Mary — Mary Magdalene as the revealer of secret knowledge. “Peter said to Mary, ‘Sister, we know that the Savior loved you more than the rest of women. Tell us the words of the Savior which you remember…’” (Gospel of Mary 10)
Apocryphon of John — a Gnostic retelling of Genesis, portraying the Creator God as an ignorant “demiurge.” “And he [the demiurge] said, ‘I am a jealous God, and there is no other god beside me.’ But by announcing this, he indicated to the angels who attended him that another God does exist.” (Apocryphon of John)
Teachings of Silvanus — wisdom text urging the pursuit of knowledge as the highest good.

By the year 200, at least 50–60 apocryphal works were already circulating — dozens of gospels, multiple acts, several apocalypses, and a growing shelf of Gnostic treatises. Some exalted Judas, others denied Jesus’ humanity, others turned Mary Magdalene into the revealer of hidden truth, and still others recast the Creator God as a blind and ignorant impostor.

Against this avalanche of counterfeits, the defenses of Irenaeus, the canon list of Rome, and the clarity of Theophilus stand out all the more. And archaeology has confirmed that they were not exaggerating. The rediscovery of the Gospel of Judas proved Irenaeus was right: the heretics really did produce “fictitious histories” that glorified the betrayer and denied Christ.

Conclusion

Commodus was assassinated in AD 192, strangled in his bath after twelve years of misrule. His death plunged Rome into the bloody “Year of the Five Emperors.” For the empire, his reign was remembered as a disgrace. But for Christians, Commodus’ years were remembered as a respite — a surprising turn from death in the palace to protection in the palace.

What began as a persecuted movement among the poor now had defenders in Caesar’s own household, a senator willing to declare Christ before Rome’s highest assembly, believers carving out rooms in the catacombs as their first communal spaces, and teachers like Irenaeus and Theophilus shaping the canon of Scripture and even the very word “Trinity” — all while the shadow of an “ancient law” reminded believers that the empire still considered them criminals.

Commodus’ reign thus marks a turning point: the faith of Jesus Christ was no longer hidden at the margins but had reached the heart of the empire, the underground corridors of Rome, and the contested battlefield of competing gospels — with the apostolic church proving itself the reliable guardian of the truth.

Multiplying by Mission: Session 1 at Mission Lake

September 8, 2025September 8, 2025 / Jason Conrad / Leave a comment

40% Growth Then, 5% Growth Now — What We Must Learn Anew

Opening & Welcome

Good evening, everyone, and welcome to our first session of Multiplying by Mission.

My name is Jason Conrad. I live here in South Carolina with my wife Jen and our family. By profession, I serve as a district leader with CVS Health, overseeing nearly twenty stores and hundreds of employees. My background is in healthcare and leadership — I hold both a Doctor of Pharmacy (PharmD) and a Master of Business Administration (MBA) — and I’ve spent many years leading in that field.

But alongside that, my deepest calling is teaching God’s Word and the history of His church. I also hold a Bachelor’s degree in Biblical Studies and a Master of Divinity, with a focus on the New Testament, early Christian history, and how the first believers lived out their faith in the Roman Empire.

Back in 2000, I moved to South Carolina to help start Christ Central Institute. From the very beginning, I’ve believed in the vision of equipping leaders and serving communities through Christ Central. I’ve been teaching for years in the church, and I’ve seen again and again how knowing our history strengthens our faith.

This series has a big title: Multiplying by Mission — 40% Growth Then, 5% Growth Now — What We Must Learn Anew.

The State of Christianity in the World Today

Christianity is still the largest global religion, but the landscape is shifting. According to Pew Research Center (The Future of World Religions: Population Growth Projections, 2017–2021 updates):

Metric	Christianity	Islam	Unaffiliated
2020 Total Share	28.8%	25.6%	24.2%
2010–2020 Growth	+5.7%	+20.7%	+11.4%
Primary Growth Areas	Africa, Asia	Africa, Asia, MENA	North America, Europe, East Asia

Now compare that with the first three centuries of the church. Sociologist Rodney Stark, in his book The Rise of Christianity (HarperCollins, 1996), famously calculated Christianity’s growth at about 40% per decade. Stark wasn’t writing as a theologian but as a sociologist, showing how a small sect could realistically have expanded to millions within three centuries. His analysis demonstrates that Christianity’s explosive rise is historically plausible, not legendary.

AD 40: ~1,000 Christians
AD 100: ~7,000–10,000
AD 150: ~40,000
AD 200: ~200,000
AD 250: ~1,000,000
AD 300: ~6,000,000
AD 350: ~30,000,000 (roughly half the empire)

If today’s church grew at that same rate, 2.3 billion Christians would become nearly the entire global population by AD 2070.

This is why our series is called Multiplying by Mission. The first Christians multiplied by 40% a decade. Today, we grow at 5%. The question before us is: what did they know that we must learn anew?

What Would It Take to Grow Like That Again?

So what would it take for us to recover that kind of momentum? Here’s one way to think about it:

Source	Target % per Decade	How to Get There
Retention of Christians	+10%	Keep 75–80% of all who enter the church — whether raised Christian or converted as adults — through discipleship, mentoring, apologetics, and community
Evangelism of Unaffiliated	+15%	Reconnect ~20% of “nones” each decade through service, digital outreach, hospitality, and apologetics
Combined Total	25% per decade	Significant growth, but still below the early church’s ~40% per decade

Now, you might be wondering: is 75–80% retention even possible? Today in America, only about half of kids raised Christian stay Christian as adults — and many adults who convert later in life also drift away. Retention is not just about keeping youth; it’s about keeping everyone who enters the church.

In the early church, retention had to be much higher across the board. Why? Because persecution weeded out nominal believers, catechesis trained converts before baptism, and Christian community bound people together in ways far stronger than what we often see today.

And this doesn’t even include conversions from other religions like Islam or Hinduism, or the natural increase from Christian birth rates. When you factor those in, the growth potential could push even higher.

The 18-Year-Old in the Classroom

Picture an 18-year-old. She’s grown up in church her whole life. She’s been told the Bible is true, and she’s never really faced serious doubt.

She graduates high school and heads to university. She signs up for “Introduction to the New Testament” — thinking it’ll be an easy A.

What she doesn’t realize is that the professor is one of the most famous Bible scholars in the world today. He’s written or edited more than 30 books, several bestsellers. He’s the author of the textbook used in universities across the country. He used to be a devout evangelical Christian — but he lost his faith. In his own words: “I no longer go to church, no longer believe, no longer consider myself a Christian.”

Now picture her in a lecture hall with 400+ students. Many grew up in church. Many think this will reinforce what they already know.

Instead, the professor walks in with humor, confidence, and command of the text — and begins by dismantling assumptions: contradictions, manuscript problems, alleged forged letters, the problem of suffering, and arguments against miracles.

By the end of the semester, she isn’t angry. She isn’t hostile. She’s just unsure. On a survey, she checks “unaffiliated.”

That’s the world we live in. Christianity is growing slowly in much of the West, and defections are common. This is why this class matters.

The Seven Tactics of Skeptical Professors

1. The Apollonius of Tyana Comparison

“I sometimes begin my undergraduate classes in New Testament studies by telling my students that I am going to describe a person to them, and they have to tell me who it is. I then talk about a man who lived some time ago, who was said to have been miraculously born, who taught his followers, did miracles to confirm that he was a son of God, convinced many people that he was divine, and then at the end of his life ascended to heaven. When I ask them who this sounds like, they invariably say Jesus. But the person I’m describing is Apollonius of Tyana.”
— Bart D. Ehrman, Did Jesus Exist? (2012), p. 211

2. Textual Variants in the New Testament

“Not only do we not have the originals, we don’t have the first copies of the originals… What we have are copies made later — much later… And these copies all differ from one another, in many thousands of places… there are more variations among our manuscripts than there are words in the New Testament.”
— Bart D. Ehrman, Misquoting Jesus (2005), pp. 10–11

3. Contradictions in the Gospels

“In the Gospel of Mark, Jesus says, ‘Whoever is not against us is for us’ (9:40). In Matthew he says, ‘Whoever is not with me is against me’ (12:30). Did Jesus say both things? Could he really mean both? Isn’t there a contradiction here?”
— Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus Interrupted (2009), p. 41

“In Mark’s account, Jairus comes to Jesus and tells him that his daughter is near death… In Matthew’s version… Jairus comes to Jesus and tells him that his daughter has already died. Which is it?”
— Jesus Interrupted, pp. 39–40

4. Authorship and Pseudonymity

“Of the thirteen letters that go under Paul’s name in the New Testament… Six of them are widely regarded as pseudonymous… That leaves seven letters that virtually all scholars agree Paul actually wrote.”
— Bart D. Ehrman, Forged (2011), p. 106

5. The Problem of Suffering

“For me the problem of suffering is the reason I lost my faith… For many people who inhabit this planet, life is a cesspool of misery and suffering. I came to a point where I simply could not believe there is a good and kindly disposed Ruler who is in charge of it. That is why I left the faith.”
— Bart D. Ehrman, God’s Problem (2008), p. 2

6. The Limits of History and Miracles

David Hume, writing in 1748, is often quoted as if he “disproved” miracles. In his Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding (Section 10), he wrote:

“A wise man… proportions his belief to the evidence. A miracle… is a violation of the laws of nature… and the proof against a miracle… is as strong as any argument from experience can be.”

Bart Ehrman echoes the same line:

“Historians, by the very nature of their craft, cannot show whether miracles happened… History can only establish what probably happened in the past. And miracles, by definition, are the least probable events.”
— Bart D. Ehrman, How Jesus Became God (2014), p. 229

But Hume also admitted:

“No testimony is sufficient to establish a miracle, unless the testimony be of such a kind, that its falsehood would be more miraculous than the fact which it endeavors to establish.”

So even Hume acknowledged that miracles are not impossible — if the evidence is strong enough.

7. Student Reactions

“Most of my students have never heard this before… They discover that we don’t have the original copies of any of the biblical books but only copies made centuries later, all of which have been altered.”
— Bart D. Ehrman, Misquoting Jesus (2005), p. 10

“I came into this class a Christian; I don’t know if I can still call myself that.”
— Misquoting Jesus, p. 11

Discussion and Reflection

Which of these seven tactics strikes you the hardest?
Why do you think so many 18-year-olds leave their first semester doubting their faith?

The Seven Undisputed Letters of Paul

Now here’s where things get really important. We’ve just seen how skeptical professors use tactics to shake students. But this is where atheists and Christians agree.

For more than 150 years, across the entire scholarly spectrum, critics and believers alike have affirmed that at least seven letters of Paul are authentic. These are not in dispute. They are the bedrock of New Testament studies.

These seven letters are:

Galatians
1 Thessalonians
1 Corinthians
2 Corinthians
Romans
Philippians
Philemon

Bart Ehrman writes:

“There is no doubt that Paul wrote Galatians, Romans, 1 and 2 Corinthians, 1 Thessalonians, Philippians, and Philemon.”
(Forged, 2011, p. 112)

Richard Carrier agrees:

“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, 2014, p. 510)

And this consensus is not new. In the mid-1800s, the German scholar Ferdinand Christian Baur, founder of the Tübingen School of criticism, argued that only four Pauline letters were authentic: Galatians, 1 & 2 Corinthians, and Romans. Even Baur, one of the most radical critics of his time, accepted those. Over time, scholarship expanded that number to seven. For more than 150 years now, across skeptical and believing scholarship alike, the consensus has held firm at these seven letters.

The Skeptic Consensus of Early Christian Literature

AD 30 — Crucifixion of Jesus
AD 31–33 (31–35 by skeptical allowance) — Paul’s conversion and the earliest Christian creeds (1 Cor 15; Phil 2)
AD 48–50 — Galatians
AD 50–51 — 1 Thessalonians
AD 53–54 — 1 & 2 Corinthians
AD 56–57 — Romans
AD 60–61 — Philippians, Philemon
AD 70 — Gospel of Mark
AD 80 — Matthew, Luke
AD 90 — Acts
AD 90–95 — John
AD 95–100 — Revelation, 1–3 John, 1 Clement, Didache
AD 70–110 — All the rest of the New Testament writings

What We Gain from the Seven Letters

1. Resurrection proclaimed almost immediately
“For what I received I passed on to you as of first importance: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas, and then to the Twelve. After that, he appeared to more than five hundred… Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles, and last of all he appeared to me also.”
— 1 Corinthians 15:3–7

2. Paul’s conversion shockingly early
“…But when God… was pleased to reveal his Son in me so that I might preach him among the Gentiles, my immediate response was not to consult any human being. I did not go up to Jerusalem to see those who were apostles before I was, but I went into Arabia. Later I returned to Damascus. Then after three years, I went up to Jerusalem to get acquainted with Cephas…”
— Galatians 1:15–18

“Then after fourteen years, I went up again to Jerusalem, this time with Barnabas. I took Titus along also.”
— Galatians 2:1

Together, these two passages account for 17 years after Paul’s conversion. If Galatians was written by AD 48–50, Paul’s conversion falls between AD 31–33 — skeptics stretch to AD 35 at the latest.

3. Persecution unbroken since AD 30

Persecution runs as an unbroken line from the cross itself, through Paul’s own life before and after conversion, and into the churches he planted.

Jesus was crucified under Pontius Pilate (the Roman state itself initiating persecution, AD 30).
Paul confesses himself a persecutor:
“For you have heard of my previous way of life in Judaism, how intensely I persecuted the church of God and tried to destroy it.” — Galatians 1:13
“For I am the least of the apostles and do not even deserve to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God.” — 1 Corinthians 15:9
“…as to zeal, persecuting the church; as to righteousness under the law, faultless.” — Philippians 3:6
Persecution continued after Paul’s conversion:
“You became imitators of God’s churches in Judea, which are in Christ Jesus: You suffered from your own people the same things those churches suffered from the Jews, who killed the Lord Jesus and the prophets and also drove us out.” — 1 Thessalonians 2:14–15

This shows that from AD 30 onward, persecution was a constant reality — first in Jesus’ death, then in Paul’s own role as persecutor, and then in the sufferings of the churches themselves.

4. Paul quoting Jesus traditions already circulating

Paul’s letters contain direct echoes of Jesus’ words — traditions that match the Gospels, even though they were written earlier:

The Lord’s Supper
“For I received from the Lord what I also passed on to you: The Lord Jesus, on the night he was betrayed, took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, ‘This is my body, which is for you; do this in remembrance of me.’ In the same way, after supper he took the cup, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood; do this, whenever you drink it, in remembrance of me.’”
— 1 Corinthians 11:23–25
(Matches Matthew 26:26–28; Mark 14:22–24; Luke 22:19–20)
On Divorce
“To the married I give this command (not I, but the Lord): A wife must not separate from her husband. But if she does, she must remain unmarried or else be reconciled to her husband. And a husband must not divorce his wife.”
— 1 Corinthians 7:10–11
(Matches Mark 10:11–12; Luke 16:18)
On Ministry Support
“In the same way, the Lord has commanded that those who preach the gospel should receive their living from the gospel.”
— 1 Corinthians 9:14
(Matches Luke 10:7: “The worker deserves his wages.”)

These passages show that Jesus’ words were already circulating and authoritative decades before the Gospels were written.

5. Jesus worshiped as divine

The Christ Hymn of Philippians 2:6–11 is structured as a chiasm — a mirror-like pattern where the descent of Christ is matched by his exaltation:

Chiastic Structure (Philippians 2:6–11):

A – Divine Lord
“Being in the form of God… equality with God”
B – Loss of all recognition
“Did not consider equality with God something to hold tightly… emptied himself”
C – Common name
“Taking the form of a servant… born in human likeness”
D – Obedient to death
“He humbled himself… even death on a cross”
C′ – Highest name
“God gave him the name that is above every name”
B′ – Universal recognition
“Every knee will bow… every tongue confess”
A′ – Divine Lord
“Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father”

This hymn shows that within the very first generation, Christians were already worshiping Jesus as divine Lord. The wording echoes Isaiah 45, where every knee bows to Yahweh — now applied to Jesus.

6. Transformed lives
“Do not be deceived: Neither the sexually immoral nor idolaters nor adulterers nor men who have sex with men nor thieves nor the greedy nor drunkards nor slanderers nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God. And that is what some of you were. But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God.”
— 1 Corinthians 6:9–11

7. Missionary movement
“From Jerusalem and all the way around to Illyricum, I have fully proclaimed the gospel of Christ… It has always been my ambition to preach the gospel where Christ was not known, so that I would not be building on someone else’s foundation… But now that there is no more place for me to work in these regions… I plan to do so when I go to Spain.”
— Romans 15:19–24

Conclusion

From the seven undisputed letters — writings atheists and Christians alike affirm — we know:

Jesus was crucified.
The resurrection was proclaimed immediately.
Paul converted within just a few years.
Persecution has been unbroken since AD 30.
Jesus was worshiped as divine.
Eyewitnesses were consulted.
Lives were transformed.
The mission was global from the start.

Even on skeptical terms, the core of Christianity stands firm.

Reinforcement: Blog & Podcast

For further study, students are encouraged to listen to and read supplemental content on Jason’s Living the Bible podcast and blog:

Podcast: When Atheists and Christians Agree: The 7 Undisputed Letters of Paul (May 26, 2025).
Podcast: Christianity Before Paul: The Traditions He Inherited (May 28, 2025).
Blog Post: Christianity’s Unstoppable Growth in the First 300 Years.

These reinforce today’s themes: the growth of Christianity, the consensus on Paul’s letters, and the firm historical core of the faith even on skeptical terms.

Marcus Aurelius and the Martyrs: Stoic Resignation vs. Christian Resurrection

September 5, 2025October 28, 2025 / Jason Conrad / Leave a comment

When Antoninus Pius died in AD 161, the throne passed to his adopted son Marcus Aurelius Antoninus. For the first eight years he ruled jointly with Lucius Verus; after Verus’ death in 169, Marcus reigned alone until 180.

Marcus is remembered as the philosopher-emperor. His Meditations, written in Greek during military campaigns, are one of the most famous works of Stoic philosophy. They counsel calm acceptance of death and resignation to the fleeting nature of life.

Yet in these same decades, Christians were being persecuted across the empire. They too left writings — apologies, theological treatises, and martyrdom accounts. These voices allow us to set Stoicism and Christianity side by side in the years of plague and persecution.

Marcus Aurelius on Life and Death

In the Meditations, written in the 170s during the wars on the Danube frontier, Marcus constantly reminded himself of life’s brevity:

“Of man’s life, his time is a point, his substance a flux, his sense dull, the fabric of his body corruptible, his soul spinning round, his fortune dark, his fame uncertain. Brief is all that is of the body, a river and a vapour; and life is a warfare and a sojourning in a strange land; and after-fame is oblivion.” (2.17, Loeb)

“Consider how swiftly all things vanish — the bodies themselves into the universe, and the memories of them into eternity. What is the nature of all objects of sense, and especially those which attract with pleasure or affright with pain or are blazed abroad by vanity — how cheap they are, how despicable, sordid, perishable, and dead.” (9.3, Loeb)

He urged himself not to despise death but to welcome it, since dissolution is as natural as birth or growth:

“Do not despise death, but welcome it, since nature wills it like all else. For dissolution is one of the processes of nature, just as youth and age, growth and maturity, teeth and beard and grey hairs and procreation and pregnancy and childbirth, and all the other natural operations which the seasons of life bring. To be not only not resisted but welcomed by the wise man is no less fitting.” (9.3, Loeb)

For Marcus, death was inevitable dissolution into the cosmos; memory itself was destined to fade into nothing. Stoicism offered dignity and calm acceptance, but no hope beyond the grave.

Justin Martyr: Death Cannot Harm Us

At the very same time in Rome, the Christian philosopher Justin Martyr was writing his apologies to the emperor. In his First Apology, written about 155–157, Justin described how Christians worshiped:

“And on the day called Sunday, all who live in cities or in the country gather together to 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 ceased, 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 with those who are absent, and to those who are not present a portion is sent by the deacons. And they who are well to do, and willing, give what each thinks fit; and what is collected is deposited with the president, who succors the orphans and widows and those who, through sickness or any other cause, are in want, and those who are in bonds and the strangers sojourning among us, and in a word takes care of all who are in need. But Sunday is the day on which we all hold our common assembly, because it is the first day on which God, having wrought a change in the darkness and matter, made the world; and Jesus Christ our Savior on the same day rose from the dead. For He was crucified on the day before that of Saturn (Saturday); and on the day after that of Saturn, which is the day of the Sun, having appeared to His apostles and disciples, He taught them these things, which we have submitted to you also for your consideration.” (First Apology 67, Loeb)

While Marcus mused on life’s futility, Christians were meeting every week to proclaim eternal life through Christ’s resurrection and to share the Eucharist as a pledge of incorruption, with their offerings supporting the poor, the sick, the imprisoned, and strangers.

In the same work, Justin explained why Christians did not fear persecution:

“We are accused of being atheists. But we are not atheists, since we worship the Creator of the universe… Him we reasonably worship, having learned that He is the Son of the true God Himself, and holding Him in the second place, and the prophetic Spirit in the third… For though beheaded, crucified, thrown to wild beasts, in chains and in fire, we do not renounce our confession; but the more such things happen, the more others in turn become believers.” (First Apology 13, Loeb)

In his Dialogue with Trypho, written in the 160s, Justin emphasized that the soul does not perish with the body:

“For not as common opinion holds, the soul dies with the body. We say that souls survive, and that those who have lived virtuously shall dwell in a better place, while those who have done wickedly shall suffer a worse fate, and that the unjust are punished with everlasting fire.” (Dialogue 5, Loeb)

And in his Second Apology, probably written after Marcus came to power, Justin summed it up in one line:

“You can kill us, but cannot hurt us.” (Second Apology 2, Loeb)

The Martyrdom of Justin

Justin’s philosophy became confession, and his confession became death. In about 165 he and six companions were brought before the prefect Junius Rusticus in Rome. The Acts of Justin’s Martyrdom, preserved in Greek, record the trial.

Rusticus commanded them to sacrifice:

“Approach and sacrifice, all of you, to the gods.”

Justin replied:

“No one in his right mind gives up piety for impiety.” (ch. 5–6, Loeb)

Rusticus pressed him:

“If you are scourged and beheaded, do you believe you will go up to heaven?”

Justin answered:

“I hope that if I endure these things I shall have His gifts. For I know that all who live piously in Christ shall have abiding grace even to the end of the whole world.” (ch. 6, Loeb)

The prefect pronounced sentence:

“Let those who have refused to sacrifice to the gods and to obey the command of the emperor be scourged and led away to suffer the penalty of capital punishment according to the laws.”

And so, the account concludes:

“The holy martyrs, glorifying God, went out to the customary place, and were beheaded, and completed their testimony in confessing the Savior.” (ch. 8, Loeb)

Justin was condemned not for crimes but for refusing to renounce the name of Christ. And this was nothing new. The same policy had been in place since Nero, carried on by every emperor in one form or another.

Nero (54–68): After the fire of Rome in AD 64, Nero did something new in Roman history. Unlike any other group, he chose the entire class of people called Christians for punishment. Tacitus says they were convicted “not so much of the crime of firing the city as of hatred of the human race.” Anyone associated with the name was liable to arrest, and an “immense multitude” was executed. Their punishments were grotesque public spectacles: some torn apart by dogs while covered in animal skins, others crucified, others burned alive as torches in Nero’s gardens. This marked a turning point: from then on, Christians carried the deadly liability of the name itself.
Vespasian (69–79) and Titus (79–81): Christians in Judea perished in the Jewish War; across the empire, Jewish-practicing Christians bore the fiscus Judaicus, the humiliating tax imposed on all who “lived like Jews.”
Domitian (81–96): Remembered by Christians as a new Nero. Dio Cassius says he executed Flavius Clemens for “atheism.” Revelation, likely written in these years, calls Rome “Babylon” and portrays the beast as Nero reborn. For the church, Domitian was Nero come again.
Trajan (98–117): His rescript to Pliny set the empire-wide rule: Christians were not to be sought out, but if accused and refusing to sacrifice, they must be punished — “for the name itself.”
Hadrian (117–138): Required due process but left the liability of the name untouched.
Antoninus Pius (138–161): Reaffirmed the same: Christians could be prosecuted “merely as such.”
Marcus Aurelius (161–180): And under Marcus the pattern continued — Justin executed in Rome, Blandina and Pothinus tortured in Gaul, Speratus and companions condemned in Africa.

From Nero to Marcus, the empire’s stance was consistent: Christians were punished not for ordinary crimes but for the name of Christ.

Athenagoras of Athens: Resurrection vs. Dissolution

Written around AD 177 and addressed to Emperor Marcus Aurelius and his son Commodus, Athenagoras’ Plea for the Christians (also known as the Embassy for the Christians) is one of the most eloquent defenses of early Christian faith. A philosopher by training, Athenagoras used the very language of Greek reason to defend the Christians against the charges of atheism, immorality, and political disloyalty. He explains the Christian understanding of God, the Trinity, resurrection, and the endurance of persecution with remarkable clarity.

From Plea for the Christians (Loeb)

“Who, then, would not be astonished to hear men who speak of God the Father, and of God the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, and who declare both their power in union and their distinction in order, called atheists? For we are not atheists, since we acknowledge one God, uncreated, eternal, invisible, impassible, incomprehensible, illimitable, who is apprehended by mind and reason alone, who is surrounded by light and beauty, and spirit and power unspeakable.

We are persuaded that when we are removed from this present life we shall live another life better than the present one, heavenly, not earthly, where we shall abide near God and with God, free from all change or suffering in the soul, and not as flesh but as spirits; or, if we shall again take flesh, we shall have it no longer subject to corruption, but incorruptible.

For as we acknowledge a God, and a Son His Logos, and a Holy Spirit, united in power—the Father, the Son, and the Spirit, because the Son is the Mind, Reason, and Wisdom of the Father, and the Spirit is the effluence as light from fire—so we declare that there is a God, and that the universe came into being by His will.

And though we are beheaded, crucified, thrown to wild beasts, chains, fire, and all kinds of torture, we do not renounce our confession; but the more such things happen, the more others in turn become believers, who observe the extraordinary patience of those who suffer and reflect that it is impossible for them to be living in wickedness and pleasure. For when they see women and boys and young girls preserving the purity of their bodies for so long a time under tortures, and others who had been weak in body becoming strong through the name of Christ, they are moved to understand that there is something divine in this teaching.”
— Athenagoras, Plea for the Christians 10–12, 18 (Loeb Classical Library)

Key Insights

Contrast with Stoicism: While Marcus’ Stoicism accepted death as dissolution, Athenagoras presents death as transformation — a passage into the incorruptible life of God.

Addressed directly to Marcus Aurelius: Athenagoras wrote from Athens to the same emperor who condemned Justin, appealing for reason and justice.

First philosophical articulation of the Trinity: He names “God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit” and explains their unity and distinction.

Immortality and incorruption: Christians believe that after death, they live near God — not dissolving into the cosmos, but sharing in incorruptible life.

Persecution as proof of truth: Athenagoras insists that the courage, purity, and endurance of Christian martyrs demonstrate that their faith is divine.

Theophilus of Antioch: Immortality and Resurrection

Around AD 180, Theophilus, bishop of Antioch, wrote To Autolycus — a three-book defense of the Christian faith addressed to a learned pagan friend. His work is especially important for two reasons:

It contains the earliest known Christian use of the word “Trinity.”
It presents the Christian doctrine of creation, resurrection, and incorruptibility in contrast to Greek philosophy.

Writing from one of the great intellectual centers of the empire, Theophilus appeals both to reason and to Scripture, insisting that faith in the one God — revealed through His Word and Spirit — is the true path to eternal life.

From To Autolycus (Loeb)

“God, then, having His own Word internal within His own bowels, begat Him, emitting Him along with His own Wisdom before all things. He had this Word as a helper in the things that were created by Him, and by Him He made all things. He is called the beginning, because He rules and is Lord of all created things, fashioned by Him.

For God will raise up your flesh immortal with your soul; and then, having become immortal, you shall see the immortal, if you now believe in Him. Then you shall know that you have spoken unjustly against Him. For if you disbelieve, you shall be convinced hereafter, when you are tormented eternally with the wicked.

In like manner also the three days which were before the luminaries are types of the Trinity: of God, and His Word, and His Wisdom. But to us who bear the sign, God has given eternal life. For he who has believed and has been born again has been delivered from death and shall not see corruption.”
— Theophilus of Antioch, To Autolycus 2.10; 1.14; 2.15 (Loeb Classical Library)

Key Insights

Connection to Marcus’ world: Writing at the end of Marcus Aurelius’ reign, Theophilus gives voice to a Christianity fully confident in both reason and revelation — a faith that promises incorruptible life amid an empire obsessed with decay and death.

Earliest known use of “Trinity”: Theophilus is the first Christian writer to use the term explicitly — describing “God, His Word, and His Wisdom.”

Creation through the Word: Theophilus presents the Logos (Word) as God’s agent in creation, echoing both Genesis and John 1.

Promise of bodily resurrection: Unlike Stoicism, which saw the soul dissolve back into nature, Theophilus proclaims the raising of the flesh “immortal with the soul.”

Moral urgency of faith: Belief in God’s Word leads to immortality; unbelief results in corruption and loss.

Melito of Sardis: Christ’s Victory

During the reign of Marcus Aurelius, Melito, bishop of Sardis in Asia Minor, wrote one of the most beautiful early Christian homilies ever preserved — the On Pascha (Peri Pascha). Preached during the annual Paschal celebration, it interprets Christ’s death and resurrection as the true fulfillment of the Jewish Passover.

Melito was deeply versed in both the Scriptures of Israel and the language of Greek rhetoric. His sermon combines poetic intensity with precise theology: Christ is both God and Man, the Creator who entered His own creation, suffered, and destroyed death. In the face of Roman Stoicism’s resignation to mortality, Melito proclaimed a faith that saw the cross as cosmic victory and the resurrection as the end of corruption.

From On Pascha (Loeb)

“He who hung the earth in place is hanged. He who fixed the heavens in place is fixed in place. He who made all things fast is made fast on a tree. The Master has been insulted; God has been murdered; the King of Israel has been destroyed by the right hand of Israel… He who raised the dead is himself put to death. He who has power over the dead is himself made subject to corruption. But he is lifted up on a tree, and nailed thereon, not for any evil he had done, but for the sins of the world.” (96)

“This is He who made the heaven and the earth, and in the beginning created man, who was proclaimed through the law and the prophets, who became human through a virgin, who was hanged upon a tree, who was buried in the earth, who was raised from the dead, who ascended to the heights of heaven, who sits at the right hand of the Father, who has the power to save all things, through whom the Father acted from the beginning and forever.” (105)

“This is the Passover of our salvation. This is He who patiently endured many things in many people: This is He who was murdered in Abel, and bound as a sacrifice in Isaac, and exiled in Jacob, and sold in Joseph, and exposed in Moses, and slaughtered in the lamb, and hunted down in David, and dishonored in the prophets. This is He that was made human of a virgin, that was hanged upon a tree, that was buried in the earth, that was raised from the dead, that was taken up to the heights of heaven.” (69–71)
— Melito of Sardis, On Pascha 69–71, 96, 105 (Loeb Classical Library)

Key Insights

A Message to Rome: Preached while Marcus Aurelius ruled, Melito’s words directly contradict Stoic despair: God has entered history, conquered corruption, and opened immortality to humankind.

Christ as Creator and Redeemer: Melito proclaims that the very One who made heaven and earth is the One who was crucified — uniting creation and redemption in a single act.

The Cross as Victory: Where Stoicism saw death as natural dissolution, Melito sees it as the moment when death itself was destroyed.

The True Passover: Christ fulfills every Old-Testament figure — Abel, Isaac, Joseph, Moses, David — revealing the unity of Scripture in Him.

Poetry and Power: The sermon’s rhythm and parallelism show how early Christian preaching rivaled classical oratory yet centered on the suffering God.

The Martyrs of Lyons and Vienne (177)

In AD 177, while Marcus Aurelius was still emperor, a violent persecution erupted in the Gallic cities of Lugdunum (modern Lyons) and Vienne. The empire was ravaged by plague, and popular suspicion fell on the Christians, whom many blamed for angering the gods. The hostility grew into mob violence, imprisonment, and finally public executions in the amphitheater.

The account was written by the local churches and sent to their brothers in Asia and Phrygia; Eusebius later preserved it in his Church History (Book 5, chapters 1–3). It is one of the earliest detailed descriptions of martyrdom in the western provinces of the Roman Empire and vividly records the endurance of ordinary believers—men, women, the elderly, and slaves—who suffered joyfully for the name of Christ.

From Eusebius, Church History 5.1–3 (Loeb)

“From the very beginning they endured nobly the injuries heaped upon them by the populace, clamors, blows, dragging, despoiling, stonings, imprisonments, and all things which the enraged mob are wont to inflict upon their adversaries and enemies.

They were shut up in the darkest and most loathsome parts of the prison, stretching their feet into the stocks as far as the fifth hole, and left to suffer in this condition. Yet though suffering grievously, they were sustained by great joy through the love of Christ.

Through her [the slave girl Blandina] Christ showed that things which appear mean and obscure and despicable to men are with God of great glory. For while we all feared lest, through her bodily weakness, she should not be able to make a bold confession, she was filled with such power that the insensible and the weak by nature became mighty through the fellowship of Christ. She was hung upon a stake and offered as food to the wild beasts; but as none of them touched her, she was taken down and thrown again into prison, preserved for another contest.

Pothinus, the bishop of Lyons, being more than ninety years old and very infirm, was dragged before the judgment-seat, beaten unmercifully, and after a few days died in prison.

They were all finally sacrificed, and instead of one wreath of victory which the Lord has given, they received many; for they were victorious in contests of many kinds, and endured many trials, and made many glorious confessions.”
— Eusebius, Church History 5.1.5, 14, 17, 29, 55 (Loeb Classical Library)

Key Insights

Legacy: The courage of these Gallic believers inspired churches from Asia Minor to North Africa. It shows how far Christianity had spread—and how deeply its followers trusted in resurrection over resignation.

A Letter from the Churches: This account was written by eyewitnesses—ordinary believers, not historians—making it one of the most authentic voices from the 2nd-century church.

Suffering Across Social Lines: The martyrs included nobles, slaves, and clergy. Blandina, a young slave girl, became the central figure of courage; Pothinus, a bishop over ninety years old, died from his wounds in prison.

Joy in Suffering: The letter repeatedly says the prisoners were filled “with great joy through the love of Christ.” Their faith turned the instruments of torture into testimonies of hope.

Public Spectacle: Their deaths were staged in the amphitheater, just as Nero had done a century earlier in Rome—proof that the name itself still carried a death sentence.

Contrast with Marcus’ Philosophy: The emperor wrote that life is vapor and fame oblivion; his subjects in Lyons believed their suffering crowned them with eternal victory.

The Scillitan Martyrs (180)

In July of AD 180, only months after Marcus Aurelius’ death, twelve Christians from the small North African town of Scillium (near modern Tunis) were brought before the proconsul Saturninus at Carthage.

Their brief hearing—preserved in Latin as the Acts of the Scillitan Martyrs—is the earliest surviving Christian document in Latin, a legal transcript of their words before the Roman governor. The Christians were offered mercy if they would swear by the emperor’s genius and return to “Roman custom.” Instead, they calmly confessed their allegiance to Christ and accepted execution.

From the Acts of the Scillitan Martyrs (Loeb)

Saturninus the proconsul said: “You can win the indulgence of our lord the Emperor if you return to sound mind.”

Speratus, the spokesman for the group, replied: “We have never done wrong, we have not lent ourselves to wickedness, we have never spoken ill; but when we have received ill treatment, we have given thanks, for we pay heed to our Emperor.”

Saturninus said: “We too are religious, and our religion is simple: we swear by the genius of our lord the Emperor, and pray for his welfare, as you also ought to do.”

Speratus said: “If you will listen to me quietly, I will speak the mystery of simplicity.”

Saturninus said: “I will not listen to you when you speak evil of our sacred rites; but rather swear by the genius of our lord the Emperor.”

Speratus said: “I do not recognize the empire of this world; rather I serve that God whom no man has seen, nor can see with these eyes. I have not stolen; but whenever I buy anything I pay the tax, because I recognize my Lord, the King of kings and Ruler of all nations.”

The others with him said: “We too are Christians.”

Saturninus said: “Do you wish time to consider?”

They said: “In such a just cause there is no deliberation.”

Saturninus read from the tablet: “Speratus, Nartzalus, Cittinus, Donata, Secunda, and Vestia, having confessed that they live as Christians, and refusing, after opportunity given them, to return to Roman custom, are hereby condemned to be executed with the sword.”

And they all said: “Thanks be to God.”
— Acts of the Scillitan Martyrs (Loeb Classical Library)

Key Insights

A calm defiance of Stoic fatalism: Stoicism accepted death with indifference; the Scillitan believers accepted it with thanksgiving, certain that life eternal had already begun.

Earliest Latin Christian text: The Acts are the first known Christian writing in Latin, showing that the faith had already taken root far beyond its Greek-speaking heartlands.

Execution “for the name”: The martyrs are charged with no crime but refusal to renounce the Christian name or sacrifice to the emperor’s genius.

Civic loyalty without idolatry: Speratus insists that Christians are not rebels: they pay taxes and pray for the emperor—but cannot worship him.

Quiet confidence: Their composure is remarkable. They require no “time to consider” and meet the death sentence with “Thanks be to God.”

Empire-wide continuity: Their trial in North Africa mirrors Justin’s in Rome and the martyrs’ in Lyons—proof that by the late 2nd century, persecution for the Christian name extended from the capital to the provinces.

Stoicism and Christianity Contrasted

Marcus Aurelius (Stoicism, 170s): Life is fleeting vapor. Death is dissolution. All things vanish. After-fame is oblivion. The best that can be done is to endure with dignity and accept fate calmly.
Christians under Marcus (Justin, Athenagoras, Theophilus, Melito, the martyrs of Lyons and Vienne, and the Scillitan Martyrs, 155–180): Life is fleeting, but Christ has conquered death. The soul endures. The body will rise. Judgment is certain. Incorruption is promised. Suffering is not meaningless fate but victory with Christ. Death itself becomes thanksgiving and triumph.

This was not new in Marcus’ time. From Nero to Domitian to Trajan, Hadrian, Antoninus Pius, and now Marcus, Christians faced the same charge: death for the name.

Conclusion

The reign of Marcus Aurelius brought plague without and persecution within. The emperor’s Stoic meditations gave him dignity to accept dissolution. The Christians’ writings and martyrdoms gave them courage to proclaim resurrection.

From Nero to Marcus, the story was the same: Christians were executed not for ordinary crimes but for the name. The philosopher-emperor wrote that life is vapor; the martyrs declared that life is eternal in Christ.

Plague may ravage. Governors may condemn. Emperors may command. But the Christians of Marcus’ reign — and every reign since Nero — bore witness that Christ has overcome death, and in Him incorruption and eternal life have already begun.

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.

When Hadrian Erased Jerusalem and Christians Spoke Up

August 29, 2025 / Jason Conrad / Leave a comment

Hadrian (AD 117–138) succeeded Trajan not as a conqueror but as a reformer. He traveled widely, reorganized law and military, and adorned the empire with monuments. Yet his vision of a unified Greco-Roman order brought him into conflict with the Jews.

Dio Cassius (c. AD 211–230) remembered him as tireless:

“He was laborious and vigilant, inasmuch as he neglected nothing, and often prevented many things from going wrong by being on the spot, and he would not accept excuses for any neglect of duty.”
— Roman History 69.6 (Loeb)

But Hadrian’s measures in Judea—especially banning circumcision, renaming Jerusalem Aelia Capitolina, and building a temple to Jupiter on the Temple Mount—ignited a war that would devastate the Jewish nation.

The Provocation: Circumcision and Aelia Capitolina

Dio Cassius records:

“At Jerusalem he founded a city in place of the one which had been razed to the ground, naming it Aelia Capitolina, and on the site of the temple of the god he raised a new temple to Jupiter. This brought on a war of no slight importance nor of brief duration. For the Jews deemed it intolerable that foreign races should be settled in their city and foreign religious rites planted there.”
— Roman History 69.12.1–2 (Loeb)

He adds:

“At this time the Jews began war because they were forbidden to mutilate their genitals. For Hadrian ordered them to desist from this practice, and thus attempted to abolish their national customs.”
— Roman History 69.12 (Loeb)

While Hadrian was still nearby, the Jews prepared in secret:

“They did not dare to fight in the open, but they occupied advantageous positions in the country and strengthened them with mines and walls, so that they might have places of refuge whenever they should be hard pressed, and might meet together under ground unseen; and they pierced these subterranean passages from above at intervals to let in air and light.”
— Roman History 69.12.3 (Loeb)

The Bar Kokhba Revolt (AD 132–135)

Once Hadrian departed, open revolt broke out under Simon bar Kosiba (Bar Kokhba), hailed by Rabbi Akiva as Messiah.

“Soon, however, all Judaea was in a ferment, and the Jews everywhere were showing signs of disturbance, gathering together, and giving evidence of great hostility to the Romans, partly by secret and partly by overt acts.”
— Roman History 69.13.1 (Loeb)

Rome responded with overwhelming force.

“Fifty of their most important outposts and nine hundred and eighty-five of their most famous villages were razed to the ground. Five hundred and eighty thousand men were slain in the various raids and battles, and the number of those that perished by famine, disease and fire was past finding out. Thus nearly the whole of Judaea was made desolate.”
— Roman History 69.14 (Loeb, Xiphilinus epitome)

Bethar: The Last Fortress of Bar Kokhba

Bethar (Betar) was the final stronghold of the revolt. Located about six miles southwest of Jerusalem, it sat high on a ridge above the Valley of Sorek.

Strategic Position: Its steep hills made it naturally defensible, and Jewish forces fortified it heavily.
Headquarters: Bar Kokhba is said to have commanded from Bethar in the final stage.
The Siege: Roman forces encircled the city. Archaeological surveys have found burn layers, ballista stones, and siege trenches.
Symbolism: Rabbinic tradition later remembered Bethar as falling on the 9th of Av, the same date both the First and Second Temples were destroyed.

Bethar became the symbol of the revolt’s futility—the last fortress where Jewish resistance was extinguished.

Rabbinic Memory of Bethar

The Jerusalem Talmud (Ta’anit 4:5–6) preserves the devastation:

“The blood flowed until horses were submerged in it up to their nostrils… And the slain of Bethar were not permitted burial until a later emperor gave permission.”

This is not the voice of a Roman chronicler but the lament of a people for whom even death did not bring rest. Bethar was remembered not merely as a defeat, but as a massacre.

Archaeology of Catastrophe

Bethar: burn layers, Roman siege trenches, and ballista stones confirm the destruction.
Caves of Refuge: in Nahal Hever and the Cave of Letters, archaeologists found skeletons, sandals, knives, jars of food, and scrolls.
Babatha Archive: 35 legal documents of a Jewish widow, sealed in leather and buried with her remains. Her last dated record is from August 132 CE—the very month the revolt broke out. After that, silence.
Letters of Bar Kokhba: papyrus and wooden tablets signed “Shim‘on ben Kosiba, Prince of Israel,” ordering supplies, threatening deserters, and requesting palm branches for Sukkot.

This was a war remembered in blood, texts, and ash.

Hadrian’s Rescript on Christians

While crushing the Jews, Hadrian issued a rescript on Christians. Preserved by Eusebius:

“If, therefore, the provincials can sustain by evidence their charges against the Christians, let them prosecute the cases, but not by mere clamour and outcry. For it is much more just, if anyone desires to make accusations, that you yourself should pass judgment.”
— Ecclesiastical History 4.9 (Loeb)

It offered no protection against charges of impiety—but it restrained mob violence.

Christian Voices in Hadrian’s Reign

This same period saw a burst of Christian literature. These writings are the first direct responses to imperial scrutiny.

Quadratus of Athens (c. 125)

Eusebius introduces him:

“After Trajan had reigned for nineteen years, Aelius Hadrian became his successor in the empire. To him Quadratus addressed a discourse, as an apology for our religion, because certain wicked men were attempting to trouble our people.”
— Eusebius, Ecclesiastical History 4.3.1 (Loeb)

Quadratus’ surviving words:

“But the works of our Saviour were always present, for they were genuine: those who were healed, those who were raised from the dead, who were seen not only when they were healed and when they were raised, but were also present continually; not only while the Saviour was living, but also for a considerable time after His departure; and indeed some of them have survived even to our own time.”
— Eusebius, Ecclesiastical History 4.3.2 (Loeb)

Why this claim is plausible:

Quadratus was writing c. AD 125, less than 100 years after Jesus’ ministry (c. AD 30).
People who had been children or teenagers when healed by Jesus could still be alive in their 80s or 90s. Rare, but possible in antiquity (Polycarp, for example, lived to 86).
More importantly, many were still alive who had personally known eyewitnesses — family, neighbors, or members of the earliest churches.

Commentary:
Quadratus is not arguing that Christianity is ancient like Judaism. He is arguing that it is true because it is still within memory: the miracles of Jesus left people alive long enough for their authenticity to be checked. His defense to Hadrian is: Christianity is not myth or invention — it happened in history, and its effects are still visible in living witnesses.

Aristides of Athens (c. 125–140)

Dedication:

“To the Emperor Caesar Titus Hadrianus Antoninus Augustus Pius, from Marcianus Aristides, a philosopher of Athens.

I, O King, by the inspiration of God, have come to this conclusion, that the universe and all that is in it is moved by the power of another… Wherefore I… have no wish to worship any other than God, the living and true, and I have searched carefully into all the races of men and tested them, and this is what I have found.”
— Aristides, Apology 1 (Loeb Syriac)

Survey of humanity (chs. II–XIV):

Barbarians: idol worshippers.
Greeks: immoral gods.
Egyptians: animal worship.
Jews: monotheists, but clinging to angels, sabbaths, and rituals.

Christians (full text, chs. XV–XVI):

XV.
“But the Christians, O King, reckon the beginning of their religion from Jesus Christ, who is named the Son of God most High; and it is said that God came down from heaven, and from a Hebrew virgin took and clad Himself with flesh; and that the Son of God lived in a daughter of man. This is taught in the gospel, as it is called, which a little while ago was preached among them; and you also, if you will read therein, may perceive the power which belongs to it.
This Jesus, then, was born of the race of the Hebrews; and He had twelve disciples in order that a certain dispensation of His might be fulfilled. He was pierced by the Jews, and He died and was buried; and they say that after three days He rose and ascended to heaven.
Thereupon these twelve disciples went forth into the known parts of the world, and taught concerning His greatness with all humility and sobriety. And those then who still observe the righteousness which was enjoined by their preaching are called Christians.
And these are they who more than all the nations of the earth have found the truth. For they acknowledge God, the Creator and Maker of all things, in the only-begotten Son and in the Holy Spirit; and besides Him they worship no other God. They have the commandments of the Lord Jesus Christ Himself graven upon their hearts; and they keep them, looking for the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come.
They do not commit adultery or fornication; they do not bear false witness; they do not covet what belongs to others; they honor father and mother; they do good to those who are their neighbors. And they judge uprightly. They do not worship idols in the likeness of man. Whatever they would not wish others to do to them, they do not practice themselves. They do not eat of the food offered to idols, for they are pure. They comfort their oppressors and make them their friends; they do good to their enemies. Their women are pure as virgins, and their daughters are modest. Their men abstain from all unlawful union and from all uncleanness, in the hope of a recompense to come in another world.”

XVI.
“They love one another. They do not turn away a widow, and they rescue the orphan. He who has gives ungrudgingly to him who has not. If they see a stranger, they take him under their roof, and they rejoice over him as over a real brother. If any one among them is poor and needy, and they have no spare food, they fast two or three days, that they may supply the needy with their necessary food.
They observe scrupulously the commandments of their Messiah; they live honestly and soberly, as the Lord their God ordered them. They give thanks to Him every hour, for all meat and drink, and other blessings.
And if any righteous man among them passes away, they rejoice and thank God, and escort his body with songs and thanksgiving as if he were setting out from one place to another.
And when a child has been born to one of them, they give thanks to God; and if it chance to die in childhood, they praise God mightily, as for one who has passed through the world without sins.
But if any one of them be a man of wealth, and he sees that one of their number is in want, he provides for the needy without boasting. And if they see a stranger, they take him under their roof, and they rejoice over him as over a brother; for they do not call them brethren after the flesh, but brethren after the Spirit and in God.
And whenever one of their poor passes away from the world, each of them, according to his ability, gives heed to him and carefully sees to his burial.
Such is the law of the Christians, O King, and such is their manner of life.”
— Aristides, Apology 15–16 (Loeb Syriac text)

Commentary:
Notice how Aristides even tells Hadrian: “and you also, if you will read [the Gospel], may perceive the power which belongs to it.” Aristides assumes the emperor could obtain and read a Christian Gospel. This shows both the confidence of Christians in their Scriptures and the public availability of the Gospel writings by Hadrian’s reign.

Epistle of Barnabas (c. 120–130)

On the covenant:

“Take heed to yourselves, and be not like some, heaping up your sins and saying that the covenant is both theirs and ours. It is ours: but in this way did they finally lose it, after Moses had already received it.”
— Barnabas 4.6–7 (Loeb)

On circumcision:

“He has abolished these things, that the new law of our Lord Jesus Christ, free from the yoke of constraint, might have its own offering not made by human hands… So we are they whom he brought into the new law… no longer bound by circumcision.”
— Barnabas 9.4–7 (Loeb)

On the temple:

“Now we say that their wretched men set their hope on the building, as though it were the house of God, and not on their God who created them. But learn how the Lord speaks, abolishing it: ‘Heaven is my throne, and the earth the footstool of my feet. What manner of house will you build for me? says the Lord.’”
— Barnabas 16.1–2 (Loeb)

Commentary:

Written at the very moment Hadrian was making Jerusalem into Aelia Capitolina.
The letter insists: the true temple is the people of God, not a building or land.
Barnabas draws a sharp break with Judaism — aligning with Hadrian’s years when Jewish identity itself was outlawed.

2 Clement (c. 120–140)

On confession and deeds:

“Let us not think it enough to call him Lord; for that will not save us. Not every one that says to me, Lord, Lord, shall be saved, but he that works righteousness. So then, brothers and sisters, let us acknowledge him by our works, by loving one another, by abstaining from slander and envy, by being self-controlled, compassionate, good.”
— 2 Clement 4.2–5 (Loeb)

On perseverance:

“If we do the will of Christ, we shall find rest; but if not, nothing will deliver us from eternal punishment, if we disobey his commandments. The scripture says: If the righteous scarcely be saved, where shall the ungodly and the sinner appear? So then, brothers and sisters, let us struggle, knowing that the contest is near and that many things are at stake.”
— 2 Clement 5.4–6 (Loeb)

On endurance in suffering:

“Blessed are they that obey these commands, though they be for a short season afflicted in the world; they shall be gathered into the immortal fruit of the resurrection.”
— 2 Clement 19.3 (Loeb)

Commentary:

2 Clement reflects the atmosphere of Hadrian’s reign: Christians under scrutiny, exhorted to prove their faith by life, not just words.
Where Aristides says to Hadrian, “See how we live,” 2 Clement says to the church, “Live so that the world sees.”

Conclusion: Two Stories

Hadrian tried to erase the Jews: banning circumcision, renaming their land, and slaughtering them by the hundreds of thousands.

Christians, already distinct, were forced out of Jerusalem along with the Jews—but the movement itself was not tied to land or temple.

The earliest imperial-facing defenses came in Hadrian’s reign: Quadratus and Aristides, written directly to emperors. Alongside them, Barnabas and 2 Clement spoke to Christian communities in the same decades, sharpening identity and urging moral seriousness.

And the core claim running through them is not philosophical speculation but a simple one: this faith works.

It changes lives.
It makes a people who fast to feed the poor, who rejoice in death, who call strangers their brothers, who endure under trial.

Rome buried cities. But the church carried forward a witness of lives transformed.

Christianity’s Unstoppable Growth in the First 300 Years

August 27, 2025September 1, 2025 / Jason Conrad / Leave a comment

When people think of the first centuries of the Roman Empire, they imagine a crowded religious marketplace: temples to Jupiter, processions for Isis, secret gatherings of Mithraists, ecstatic festivals for Cybele. Against this backdrop, Christianity sometimes gets cast as “just another mystery religion.” But the evidence — both Christian and pagan — tells a different story.

Christianity grew in ways no other religion did. And it grew because it was different.

A Movement That Could Not Be Ignored

By the year AD 112, the Roman governor Pliny the Younger wrote to Emperor Trajan about the rapid spread of Christianity in his province of Bithynia-Pontus:

“For many persons of every age, every rank, and also of both sexes are and will be endangered. For the contagion of this superstition has spread not only through the cities but also through the villages and the countryside.”
— Pliny, Letters 10.96 (Loeb Classical Library), written c. AD 112

Pliny’s words confirm what the New Testament had already claimed: Christianity wasn’t staying local. It had spread across cities, villages, farms, households, men and women, slave and free. This was no longer a tiny sect in Jerusalem — it was a movement Rome could not ignore.

Growth by the Numbers

Sociologist Rodney Stark, in The Rise of Christianity (1996), famously calculated that Christianity expanded at about 40% per decade — slow and steady exponential growth. Bart Ehrman, in The Triumph of Christianity (2018), adopts a similar model for illustration.

30 AD: a few dozen disciples in Jerusalem
100 AD: ~7,000–10,000
200 AD: ~200,000–300,000
300 AD: ~4–6 million
350 AD: ~30 million (roughly half the empire)

No other religion in antiquity shows a comparable curve.

Why Was Christianity Different?

1. Exclusivity

Roman religion was inclusive. You could worship Mithras in the army, Isis at home, and Jupiter in the forum. Christianity, by contrast, insisted that all other gods were false. Converts had to abandon sacrifices and festivals. Romans accused them of being “atheists” for rejecting the gods of the empire.

Judaism shared that exclusivity, but it was ethnic and national. Christianity took it further: one God for all nations.

Justin Martyr, writing in the mid-2nd century (c. AD 155), put it this way:

“We do not sacrifice to idols, for we know they are not gods but lifeless and dead. We do not worship with the multitude, but we direct prayers to the only true God.”
— Justin, First Apology 9 (Loeb/ANF)

Later in the 2nd century, Tertullian sharpened the same point in legal and political terms. Accused of disloyalty to the emperor, he replied:

“We Christians are accused of being irreligious with regard to the emperors. But let it be said: we do not worship the emperor, we will not swear by the genius of Caesar. We worship him lawfully, as a man, and pray for him. But as for the gods, we know that they are no gods.”
— Tertullian, Apology 24 (written c. AD 197, Loeb/ANF)

That phrase — “we worship him lawfully, as a man” — is carefully chosen. Christians would:

Honor the emperor in his human role (by paying taxes, obeying laws, and praying for him).
But they would not cross into idolatry by offering sacrifices or calling him divine.

This was the flashpoint of exclusivity. Christians were loyal citizens in every human way — but their refusal to honor the gods (and Caesar’s genius) made them appear dangerous, even atheistic, to Roman society.

2. Universality

Other cults were tied to particular groups: Mithraism to soldiers, Isis to Egyptian traditions, Cybele to Asia Minor. Christianity declared itself for everyone.

Paul put it in striking terms:

“There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus.”
— Paul, Letter to the Galatians 3:28 (written c. AD 50s, Loeb/NRSV)

Nearly a century later, Justin Martyr could make the same claim even more boldly:

“There is no people, whether Greek or barbarian, or any race whatsoever, among whom prayers and thanksgivings are not offered through the name of the crucified Jesus.”
— Justin, First Apology 46 (written c. AD 155, Loeb/ANF)

From Paul to Justin, the message is consistent: Christianity was not a local or ethnic faith. It was a movement that claimed universality — open to all nations, classes, and peoples.

3. Community and Care

This is where Christianity truly stood apart. Roman society had structures of family, guilds, and even associations — but none looked like the Christian ethic of charity.

Roman families (familia) cared for their own household, but responsibility rarely extended beyond kin and slaves.
Guilds and burial clubs (collegia) sometimes pooled resources for funerals, but their reach was limited and local.
Philosophical schools (Stoics, Epicureans, Platonists) spoke of virtue and brotherhood in theory, but offered no system of daily material support to the poor.
Mystery cults like Isis or Mithras provided rituals and camaraderie, but not hospitals or famine relief.

Christianity was different. Caring for widows, orphans, the poor, the sick, and even strangers was commanded as part of the “way of life” (Didache 1–4, c. AD 80–100).

During the plague of the 260s, Dionysius of Alexandria described the difference Christians made:

“Most of our brethren, in their exceeding love and brotherly kindness, did not spare themselves, but kept by each other, and visited the sick without thought of danger, and ministered to them assiduously, and treated them for their healing in Christ, and with them departed this life serenely happy; for they were infected by others with the disease, drawing upon themselves the sickness of their neighbors, and willingly taking over their pains.”
— Eusebius, Ecclesiastical History 7.22 (Loeb Classical Library, written c. AD 310–325, quoting Dionysius’s letter from c. AD 260)

Even pagan critics noticed. Lucian of Samosata, a satirist writing around AD 170, mocked Christians for their enduring practice of brotherhood:

“The poor wretches have convinced themselves, first and foremost, that they are going to be immortal and live for all time… and then it was impressed on them by their original lawgiver that they are all brothers from the moment they are converted, and deny the gods of Greece, and worship that crucified sophist himself, and live under his laws. So they despise all things indiscriminately and consider them common property.”
— Lucian, The Passing of Peregrinus 13 (Loeb Classical Library, written c. AD 170)

And this care extended to the most vulnerable: children. In Roman society, it was common to expose unwanted infants — especially girls — leaving them to die or be taken as slaves. Philosophers like Aristotle endorsed the practice. But Christians condemned it as murder and became known for rescuing and raising exposed infants.

The Epistle of Barnabas (c. AD 130) instructed believers:

“You shall not kill a child by abortion, nor shall you destroy it after birth.”
— Barnabas 19.5 (Loeb, Apostolic Fathers)

This was radical. Christians didn’t only nurse plague victims — they took in abandoned babies, treating them as precious image-bearers of God.

And later, even Rome’s own emperor admitted it. Julian the Apostate (who tried to revive paganism after Constantine) begrudgingly confessed:

“Why do we not observe how it is their benevolence to strangers, their care for the graves of the dead, and the pretended holiness of their lives that have done most to increase atheism [i.e., Christianity]?”
— Julian, Letter to Arsacius (Loeb Classical Library, written c. AD 362)

Julian even instructed pagan priests to imitate Christian charity — because he knew it was winning hearts.

So while families cared only for their own, guilds helped only with burials, and philosophers offered only ideals, Christians made charity the center of their identity. This ethic reshaped communities across the empire.

4. Moral Demands

Pagan cults emphasized ritual. Christianity demanded a transformed life.

Pliny himself noted that Christians bound themselves by oath:

“They asserted, however, that the sum and substance of their fault or error had been that they were accustomed to meet on a fixed day before dawn and sing responsively a hymn to Christ as to a god, and to bind themselves by oath, not to some crime, but not to commit fraud, theft, or adultery, not to falsify their trust, nor to refuse to return a trust when called upon to do so.”
— Pliny, Letters 10.96 (Loeb Classical Library, written c. AD 112)

For Christians, morality wasn’t optional — it was central.

And Christian writers pointed to transformed lives as the greatest proof of all. Origen, writing in the mid-3rd century, argued:

“Their reform of life is the strongest testimony that they have come upon a truth that cannot be shaken. For who that sees the untold multitudes who have abandoned their former vices, and given themselves to a pure and sober life, does not wonder at the power that has wrought this change?”
— Origen, Against Celsus 1.67 (written c. AD 248, Loeb)

For Origen, the very existence of morally changed communities was itself evidence that Christianity was real and divine.

5. A Historical Resurrection

Skeptics sometimes argue that the resurrection of Jesus was just another version of the “dying and rising god” myths in the ancient world. But when we examine the actual stories, each one is different in crucial ways — especially when it comes to dates and eyewitnesses.

Osiris (Egyptian):

Date: 2nd millennium BC; Plutarch, On Isis and Osiris (c. AD 100).
Story: Murdered, dismembered, reassembled, becomes ruler of the underworld.
Eyewitnesses: None.
Difference: Never returns bodily to life among mortals.

Dionysus (Greek):

Date: 6th c. BC (Homeric Hymns); 4th c. BC (Orphic).
Story: Torn apart, restored; fertility cycles.
Eyewitnesses: None.
Difference: Cyclical vegetation rebirth, not historical resurrection.

Attis (Phrygian):

Date: 4th–3rd c. BC cult; Roman references 1st c. BC–4th c. AD.
Story: Castrates himself, dies under a tree; later myths say preserved from decay.
Eyewitnesses: None.
Difference: Mourning cult, not resurrection.

Adonis (Greek/Near Eastern):

Date: 7th–6th c. BC cult; Ovid Metamorphoses (AD 8); Lucian (AD 150).
Story: Killed by boar; blood gives flowers; seasonal return.
Eyewitnesses: None.
Difference: Fertility myth.

Inanna/Ishtar (Mesopotamian):

Date: Descent of Inanna (c. 1750 BC); Descent of Ishtar (7th c. BC).
Story: Dies in the underworld, restored by gods.
Eyewitnesses: None.
Difference: Cosmic myth, not history.

Romulus (Roman):

Date: Legendary founder, 8th c. BC; Livy, History of Rome 1.16 (27–9 BC); Plutarch, Life of Romulus (c. AD 100).
Story: Competing endings — (1) vanishes in a storm; (2) Proculus Julius claims vision; (3) Senators murdered him and invented tale.
Eyewitnesses: One vision, contradictory stories.
Difference: Apotheosis (becoming divine), not bodily resurrection.

Heracles (Greek):

Date: Homer (8th c. BC); Apollodorus (1st–2nd c. AD).
Story: Dies on pyre; mortal part destroyed, divine part ascends.
Eyewitnesses: None.
Difference: Apotheosis, not resurrection.

Zalmoxis (Thracian):

Date: Herodotus, Histories 4.94–96 (c. 440 BC).
Story: Hides underground for three years, reappears.
Eyewitnesses: Followers saw him reemerge, but he never died.
Difference: Retreat-and-return, not resurrection.

Melqart (Phoenician):

Date: Cult at Tyre, 9th c. BC; Greek accounts 5th c. BC onward.
Story: Annual rites of seasonal renewal.
Eyewitnesses: None.
Difference: Fertility ritual, not resurrection.

Mithras (Roman cult):

Date: Late 1st c. AD in Rome.
Story: Slays bull; Mithras never dies.
Eyewitnesses: None.
Difference: No resurrection myth at all.

Apollonius of Tyana (Greek philosopher):

Date: 1st c. AD; Philostratus, Life of Apollonius (c. AD 217–238).
Story: Three endings — (1) dies in Ephesus; (2) dies in Lindus; (3) vanishes in Crete, appears to one disciple.
Eyewitnesses: At most, one disciple in one version; others contradict.
Difference: Late, legendary, contradictory; no bodily resurrection.

Why Christianity Was Different

By contrast, the Christian proclamation was unique:

Early: The resurrection was proclaimed from the very start. Paul’s letters (c. AD 50s) are our earliest Christian writings, but in 1 Corinthians 15:3–7 he cites a creed he himself “received” from the Jerusalem church — most scholars date this creed to within five years of Jesus’ death (c. AD 30–35).
Historical: Located in Jerusalem under Pontius Pilate. Tacitus (c. AD 115) confirms: “Christus, the founder of the name, was put to death by the procurator Pontius Pilate, during the reign of Tiberius.” — Annals 15.44 (Loeb)
Even atheist or agnostic historians today agree on three facts: Jesus lived, was crucified under Pilate, and his followers soon claimed to see him alive.
Eyewitnessed: Paul lists appearances:
1. To Cephas (Peter)
2. To the Twelve
3. To more than five hundred at once (most still alive when Paul wrote)
4. To James (the brother of Jesus)
5. To all the apostles
6. Finally, to Paul himself
  Plus, we have four independent Gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, AD 65–95), each preserving distinct traditions but united in testifying to Jesus’ crucifixion, burial, and resurrection.
Bodily: Jesus left behind an empty tomb and ate with disciples; not a ghost, not apotheosis.
Transformative: These claims produced communities whose lives of charity and moral transformation astonished even critics.

Conclusion

Christianity wasn’t “just another mystery religion.”

It was exclusive like Judaism, but universal in scope.
It demanded moral transformation, not just ritual.
It built enduring communities of care unmatched in Roman society — nursing plague victims, rescuing exposed infants, treating every life as sacred.
And it proclaimed not a seasonal myth or apotheosis, but a historical resurrection, rooted in eyewitness testimony and confirmed by transformed lives.

By AD 300, Christians numbered in the millions. By AD 350, they were half the empire. What began as a small sect in Jerusalem became the movement that reshaped the world.

Slaves as Deacons, Christians on Trial: The World of Pliny and Trajan

August 24, 2025 / Jason Conrad / Leave a comment

Christians had already been singled out under Nero in AD 64, when they were executed as scapegoats for the great fire of Rome. Tacitus explained that this was possible because the movement was already “a pernicious superstition” spreading from Judea to Rome itself.

Under Trajan we find something new: the earliest preserved imperial correspondence about Christians. Around AD 111–113, Pliny the Younger wrote to the emperor, uncertain how to judge these people who seemed to be everywhere in his province. His letter, and Trajan’s reply, provide the first official window into how Rome defined the Christian movement: not for crimes committed, but for stubborn loyalty to Christ.

Pliny’s First Provincial Post

Pliny the Younger had served in Rome as a lawyer, senator, and consul, but in AD 111 Trajan appointed him governor of Bithynia-Pontus in Asia Minor. This was his first post outside Rome, and very early in his service he encountered Christians.

Bithynia-Pontus was no small territory. It stretched across the Black Sea coast of northern Asia Minor, covering about 50,000–80,000 square kilometers — comparable to a modern U.S. state like South Carolina or a country like Ireland. Its population likely numbered one to three million people, scattered across major cities such as Nicomedia (the capital), Nicaea, Amisus, and Sinope, as well as countless villages and rural communities.

It was a wealthy and strategically important province, close to Rome’s troubled eastern frontier. Pliny had been sent there with special imperial authority to repair corruption in the local cities and restore order to provincial finances. He wrote dozens of letters to Trajan on everything from aqueduct projects to fire safety. Among them is this extraordinary letter — the earliest Roman testimony we possess about Christians.

Pliny’s Letter to Trajan (Letters 10.96, Loeb)

“It is my rule, Sir, to refer to you all matters concerning which I am in doubt. For who is better able either to direct my hesitation or to instruct my ignorance? I have never been present at any trials of Christians; therefore I do not know what is the customary subject-matter of investigations and punishments, or how far it is usual to go. Whether pardon is to be granted on repentance, or if a man has once been a Christian it does him no good to have ceased to be one; whether the mere name, apart from atrocious crimes associated with it, or only the crimes which adhere to the name, is to be punished—all this I am in great doubt about.

In the meantime, the course that I have adopted with respect to those who have been brought before me as Christians is as follows: I asked them whether they were Christians. If they admitted it, I repeated the question a second and a third time, with a warning of the punishment awaiting them. If they persisted, I ordered them to be led away for execution; for I could not doubt, whatever it was that they admitted, that stubbornness and unbending obstinacy ought to be punished. There were others similarly afflicted; but, as they were Roman citizens, I decided to send them to Rome.

In the case of those who denied that they were or had been Christians, when they invoked the gods in the words I dictated and offered prayer with incense and wine to your image, which I had ordered to be brought for this purpose together with statues of the gods, and furthermore cursed Christ—none of which things, I am told, those who are really Christians can be forced to do—I thought they ought to be discharged.

Others, who were named by an informer, first said that they were Christians and then denied it; true, they had been of that persuasion, but they had left it, some three years ago, some more, and a few as much as twenty years. All these also worshiped your image and the statues of the gods, and cursed Christ.

They maintained, however, that the sum and substance of their fault or error had been that on a fixed day they were accustomed to meet before daylight and to recite by turns a form of words to Christ as to a god, and that they bound themselves by an oath—not for any crime, but not to commit theft, robbery, or adultery, not to break their word, and not to refuse to return a deposit when called upon to restore it. After this it was their custom to separate, and then meet again to partake of food—but ordinary and harmless food. Even this they said they had ceased to do after the publication of my edict, by which, in accordance with your instructions, I had forbidden associations.

I thought it the more necessary, therefore, to find out what was true from two slaves, whom they call deaconesses, by means of torture. I discovered nothing else but depraved, excessive superstition.

I therefore postponed the investigation and hastened to consult you. The matter seems to me to justify consultation, especially on account of the number of those in danger; for many of every age, every rank, and also of both sexes are already and will be brought into danger. For the contagion of this superstition has spread not only through cities, but also through villages and the countryside; and yet it seems possible to check and cure it. It is certain at least that the temples, which had been almost deserted, have begun to be frequented, and the sacred rites, long suspended, are again being performed, and there is a general demand for the flesh of sacrificial victims, for up till now very few purchasers could be found. From this it may easily be supposed what a multitude of people can be reclaimed, if only room is granted for repentance.”

Trajan’s Reply (Letters 10.97, Loeb)

“You have followed the right course, my dear Secundus, in examining the cases of those who had been denounced to you as Christians; for it is impossible to lay down any general rule which will apply as a fixed standard. They are not to be sought out; if they are brought before you and convicted, they must be punished. With this proviso, however—that if anyone denies that he is a Christian and proves it by worshiping our gods, he is to obtain pardon through repentance, even if he has incurred suspicion in the past.

As for anonymous accusations, they must not be admitted in any proceedings. For that would establish a very bad precedent and is not in keeping with the spirit of our age.”

Commentary on the Exchange

Pliny’s confession, “I have never been present at any trials of Christians,” shows both his inexperience and the fact that trials were already happening elsewhere. Christianity was under continual pressure across the empire, and now the problem landed on his desk.

The chilling reality is revealed in his line about “the mere name ….” To bear the name Christian was itself a death sentence. No crimes were needed. Identity alone was enough.

The procedure Pliny used shows just how brutal this was. He explains, “I asked them whether they were Christians. If they admitted it … I repeated the question a second and a third time … If they persisted, I ordered them to be led away for execution.” Imagine the horror of answering three times, knowing each affirmation sealed your fate.

He explains why: “stubbornness and unbending obstinacy ought to be punished.” His uncle, Pliny the Elder, had written:

Pliny the Elder, Natural History 28.3 (Loeb):
“There is no doubt that obstinacy (pertinacia) in every case is a kind of mental disease; and it is certainly detestable.”

Romans believed stubborn refusal to yield was itself madness. For Christians, refusing to recant was not insanity but faith. For Rome, it was intolerable.

Pliny even notes that apostates could prove themselves by worshiping Trajan’s image, since “none of which things … those who are really Christians can be forced to do.” This shows the fame of Christian commitment: even outsiders knew real Christians would never deny Christ.

He describes their worship: “on a fixed day … to Christ as to a god … by an oath … not to commit theft, robbery, or adultery … and then partake of food—but ordinary and harmless food.” This is the earliest pagan testimony to Christian worship of Jesus as divine.

Pliny adds they ceased such gatherings “after the publication of my edict … I had forbidden associations.” Christianity was caught in Rome’s general ban on private clubs. The suspicion of associations is illustrated vividly in another letter. When the city of Nicomedia asked to form a small fire brigade to deal with frequent blazes, Pliny petitioned Trajan for permission:

Pliny to Trajan (10.33): “The city of Nicomedia has been visited by frequent fires, and its narrow streets and the lack of aqueducts make this danger greater. They beg you to permit them to establish a fire brigade of 150 men. I will see to it that none but firemen are admitted into it. But still, it will be easy to keep them under control.”

Trajan flatly refused:

Trajan’s Reply (10.34a): “You are doubtless aware that societies of this sort have greatly disturbed the peace of the provinces, and particularly of your province. Whatever name we give them, and for whatever purpose they may be formed, they will not fail to degenerate into political clubs. Therefore we must not sanction the existence of such a body. It will be sufficient if private individuals bring help, and slaves too, when a fire breaks out.”

If Trajan would not allow even a fire brigade for public safety, how much less would he permit Christians to form weekly gatherings for worship.

Pliny then reports that he tried to get more information “from two slaves, whom they call deaconesses, by means of torture.” The Latin ancillae makes clear these were slaves. Roman law allowed slaves to be tortured for testimony, while free citizens were usually protected from such treatment.

What is remarkable is not only that slaves were tortured — that was routine — but that these enslaved women held the office of deacon (ministrae), functioning as ministers and leaders in their Christian community. To Rome, they were property; to the church, they were shepherds of the flock.

The Didache, written only a decade or two earlier, had instructed Christians to “appoint for yourselves bishops and deacons worthy of the Lord” (Did. 15). Now Pliny, in a completely different province, confirms the same office. This is the earliest Roman testimony that Christians had recognized offices — and it reveals something astonishing: the church entrusted even slaves, even women, with the role of deacon.

This convergence is remarkable. The Didache exhorted churches to choose deacons for their character; Pliny identifies two women who bore that title. To their fellow believers, they were leaders in worship. To Roman law, they were vulnerable bodies fit for torture. This single line in Pliny’s letter accidentally reveals the radical social reversal inside the Christian movement.

It is important to remember, however, that this is only one governor’s correspondence. Pliny was just one official among some forty provincial governors who administered Rome’s empire under Trajan. Their letters on taxation, roads, temples, and law were constant. It is reasonable to assume that similar exchanges about Christians were being carried on elsewhere, even if those letters have been lost. Trajan’s consistent instructions suggest this was not a one-off ruling, but an imperial policy applied across the empire.

Pliny also reports the movement’s scale: “many of every age, every rank, and also of both sexes … the contagion of this superstition has spread not only through cities, but also through villages and the countryside.” For a province the size of Bithynia-Pontus — with millions of inhabitants across urban and rural settings — this meant Christianity was embedded in every layer of society. He calls it a “contagion” to be “checked and cured,” echoing Tacitus who wrote that Christianity had been “checked for the moment” in Judea, but then broke out again in Rome.

Finally, Pliny admits that “the temples, which had been almost deserted, have begun to be frequented … the sacred rites … again being performed.” Christianity had already drained pagan practice. Only persecution revived it.

Trajan’s reply solidified the pattern: Christians were “not to be sought out; if … convicted, they must be punished.” Apostasy and sacrifice to the gods could secure pardon. Anonymous accusations were disallowed, but the danger remained.

And since this correspondence occurred in AD 111–113, it reflects how Christians had been treated from the beginning of Trajan’s reign in 98. For nearly two decades, the policy had been consistent: tolerated in silence, condemned if confessed.

Christian Voices Under Trajan

Ignatius of Antioch (c. 110–117)

Ignatius, Romans 6 (Loeb):
“Permit me to be an imitator of the passion of my God. If anyone has him within himself, let him consider what I long for and let him sympathize with me, knowing the things which constrain me.”

Ignatius explicitly calls Jesus “my God” and embraces death as imitation of his Lord’s passion.

Ignatius, Ephesians 20 (Loeb):
“Come together in common, one and all without exception in grace, in one faith and in one Jesus Christ … breaking one bread, which is the medicine of immortality, the antidote that we should not die but live forever in Jesus Christ.”

Ignatius shows the same worship Pliny described — but where Pliny saw superstition, Ignatius saw immortality.

Polycarp of Smyrna, Letter to the Philippians (c. 110–115)

Polycarp, Philippians 2 (Loeb):
“Stand firm, therefore, in these things and follow the example of the Lord, being strong and unchangeable in the faith, loving the brotherhood, cherishing one another, joined together in the truth, forestalling one another in the gentleness of the Lord, despising no man.”

Here Polycarp echoes the oath Pliny heard — not to crime, but to virtue.

Polycarp, Philippians 2 (Loeb):
“If we please him in this present world, we shall also receive the world to come, as he has promised us that he will raise us from the dead, and that if we live worthily of him we shall also reign with him, if indeed we have faith.”

Moral living is bound to resurrection hope and the lordship of Christ.

The Didache (c. 100–110)

Didache 1.2 (Loeb):
“The way of life, then, is this: First, you shall love God who made you; second, your neighbor as yourself; and all things whatsoever you would not have done to you, do not do to another.”

This is the oath Pliny summarized — binding oneself to moral life.

Didache 10 (Loeb):
“We give you thanks, holy Father, for your holy name which you caused to tabernacle in our hearts, and for the knowledge and faith and immortality which you made known to us through Jesus your servant. To you be the glory forever.”

Here the Eucharist is described in prayer form, matching Pliny’s “ordinary and harmless food,” but revealing its sacred meaning.

The Shepherd of Hermas (Rome, c. 100–117 for earliest layers)

Hermas, Vision 3.2.4 (Loeb):
“Those who endure cheerfully the things that happen, these are the ones who are blessed. It is they who will inherit life.”

This is the Christian redefinition of “stubbornness”: not madness, but blessedness.

Hermas, Mandate 8.6 (Loeb):
“Keep the commandments of the Lord and you will be approved and enrolled among the number of those who keep his commandments. But if you do any other thing, you will not be saved, nor your children, nor your household, since you have despised the commandments of the Lord.”

Hermas shows the seriousness of moral life, binding salvation to obedience.

Papias of Hierapolis (c. 110–130)

Eusebius, Church History 3.39.3–4 (Loeb):
“I shall not hesitate also to set down for you along with my interpretations whatsoever things I learned with care from the presbyters and stored up in memory, guaranteeing their truth. For I did not, like the multitude, take pleasure in those who spoke much, but in those who taught the truth, nor in those who related strange commandments, but in those who rehearsed the commandments given by the Lord to the faith and proceeding from the truth itself. And if by chance anyone who had been a follower of the presbyters should come my way, I inquired into the words of the presbyters, what Andrew or what Peter said, or what Philip or what Thomas or James or what John or Matthew or any other of the Lord’s disciples; and what Aristion and the presbyter John, the disciples of the Lord, say. For I did not think that what was to be gotten from the books would profit me as much as what came from the living and abiding voice.”

Eusebius, Church History 3.39.15–16 (Loeb):
“And this the presbyter used to say: Mark, having become the interpreter of Peter, wrote down accurately whatever he remembered of the things said and done by the Lord, but not however in order. For he had neither heard the Lord nor followed him, but afterward, as I said, he followed Peter, who used to frame his teaching to meet the needs of his hearers, but not as making a connected narrative of the Lord’s discourses. So then Mark committed no error while he thus wrote down some things as he remembered them; for he took thought for one thing not to omit any of the things which he had heard, nor to falsify anything in them.

So then Matthew composed the oracles in the Hebrew language, and each man interpreted them as he was able.”

Papias, bishop of Hierapolis in Asia Minor, was writing during or soon after Trajan’s reign — in the same region Pliny governed. While Pliny dismissed Christianity as a superstition to be cured, Papias was carefully preserving the traditions of the apostles. His testimony shows that Christians of this time were not inventing novelties, but guarding what they believed came from Andrew, Peter, John, Matthew, and others.

Why Rome Considered Christianity a Superstition

Pliny the Elder had explained decades earlier:

Pliny the Elder, Natural History 30.12 (Loeb):
“Among foreign rites, it is only the ancient ones that have gained recognition; the rest are held accursed.”

Judaism was tolerated because it was ancient. Christianity, though born out of Judaism, was treated as new — and therefore dangerous. Rome did not see it as a venerable faith, but as an illegitimate superstition.

Conclusion

Pliny’s letter and Trajan’s reply give us the earliest imperial window into the treatment of Christians. They were punished not for crimes but for their name, not for sedition but for stubborn loyalty.

Rome called it obstinacy; Christians called it faith. Rome called it superstition; Christians called it worship. Rome called it contagion; Christians called it life.

And because this exchange took place late in Trajan’s reign, it shows that from AD 98 to 117 the policy never wavered: Christians were not to be hunted, but if accused and refusing to recant, they must die.

At the very same time, Ignatius longed to die for “my God,” Polycarp exhorted believers to live worthily of Christ, the Didache described the Eucharist as thanksgiving through Jesus, Hermas taught endurance as the path to life, and Papias preserved the sayings of the apostles.

Even Pliny, though hostile, could not deny the truth: Christianity was everywhere — men and women, rich and poor, city and countryside. It had weakened the pagan temples. It could not be forced into silence.

The empire tried to check and cure it. But history shows that the “contagion” of Christ only spread further — carried even by slaves who bore the title of deacon, ministers and leaders in their assemblies, and by all who confessed his name three times, even unto death.

The True Temple Rises: Christianity After AD 70

August 21, 2025August 21, 2025 / Jason Conrad / Leave a comment

When Nero died by suicide in AD 68, the Roman Empire plunged into chaos. In one year, four emperors—Galba, Otho, Vitellius, and finally Vespasian—rose and fell. While Rome burned and battled for power, Judea was in full revolt.

And in the smoldering ruins of that rebellion, Vespasian and his son Titus would become emperors. Their campaign didn’t just crush a revolt—it destroyed Jerusalem, leveled the Temple, and forever reshaped both Jewish and Christian identity.

The Revolt Begins: Taxes, Desecration, and Massacres

In AD 66, the Roman governor of Judea, Gessius Florus, pushed the people beyond their limits. He looted the Temple treasury—seizing 17 talents, equivalent to about $10 million today.

This wasn’t mere corruption — it was an act of sacrilege and robbery of funds consecrated to God.

The people mocked Florus by passing baskets around as though collecting alms for him. His response was slaughter. Josephus (c. AD 75–79) records:

“Florus sent soldiers into Jerusalem and ordered a massacre. They killed 3,600 men, women, and children—even Roman citizens of equestrian rank. Some were scourged, and then crucified.”
— Josephus, Jewish War 2.14.9 (Loeb)

This atrocity ignited full-scale revolt.

Roman Garrisons Overrun

Jewish Zealots stormed the Antonia Fortress, overran the Roman garrison, and then ambushed Roman forces at Masada. Josephus writes:

“They compelled the Roman garrison to surrender and slaughtered them. The war was now started in earnest.”
— Josephus, Jewish War 2.17.9 (Loeb)

Rome had no choice but to respond.

Vespasian in Galilee: Fire and Terror

Nero sent Vespasian, a seasoned general, to crush the uprising. Accompanied by his son Titus, he swept through Galilee.

At Jotapata, Josephus himself was the Jewish commander. He was captured there and became an eyewitness to everything that followed. His account of these events is not second-hand history; it comes from someone who stood in the middle of the war and later wrote under Roman patronage.

Josephus describes the fall of Jotapata:

“Forty thousand were slain, and the city was utterly demolished. Those hiding in caves were dragged out and killed.”
— Josephus, Jewish War 3.7.36 (Loeb)

In Gamla, the scene was horrific:

“People hurled themselves, wives, and children over the cliffs. The entire city was covered with corpses.”
— Josephus, Jewish War 4.1.9 (Loeb)

He sums it up:

“Galilee was filled with fire and blood.”

Christians in Galilee were not spared this. They lived in the same villages and towns, and the Roman army made no distinction. Alongside their Jewish neighbors, they too were killed, crucified, or driven into slavery. The suffering Josephus describes was shared by all, including those who confessed Christ.

Titus and the Siege of Jerusalem

After Nero’s death, Vespasian left for Rome, leaving the siege of Jerusalem in the hands of Titus.

Jerusalem was already fractured from within. Zealots and moderates fought each other while Roman forces built a five-mile siege wall to starve the city.

Josephus, still an eyewitness from the Roman camp, records the horrors inside:

“The famine was so severe that parents stole food from their own children. Dead bodies lay everywhere. No one had strength to bury them.”
— Josephus, Jewish War 5.12.3–4 (Loeb)

And then, one of the darkest accounts in ancient history:

“A woman named Mary… took her infant son, slew him, roasted him, and ate half, hiding the rest. When soldiers smelled the roasted flesh and stormed in, she said, ‘This is my son… I have eaten my own child.’”
— Josephus, Jewish War 6.201–213 (Loeb)

Titus pressed on. Though he claimed to want to spare the Temple:

“I gave orders to preserve the Temple, but my commands were ignored in the madness of battle.”
— Josephus, Jewish War 6.4.7 (6.254 Loeb)

The Temple burned. The city fell. Josephus claimed over 1.1 million people died in the siege.

For Christians, the destruction of the Temple wasn’t only tragedy — it was fulfillment of Jesus’ prophecy (Mark 13:2). The collapse of the Temple-centered world validated their conviction that Christ himself was the new and greater Temple.

Crucifixions Without Number

Josephus gives us two chilling glimpses of Roman cruelty:

“As for those who had fled from within the city, many were caught; and when they were caught, they were scourged and tortured, then crucified opposite the walls. The Roman soldiers, out of anger and hatred, nailed up those they caught, one after one way, and another after another, to entertain themselves by the variety. And so great was their number that there was not room enough for the crosses, and not crosses enough for the bodies.”
— Josephus, Jewish War 5.11.1 (Loeb)

And again:

“They caught those that had fled out of the city… and when they were caught, they were first scourged, then tormented with all sorts of tortures, and finally crucified before the wall of the city. Titus indeed commiserated their fate; yet he understood that their number was so great that room was lacking for the crosses, and crosses lacking for the bodies. About five hundred were crucified daily.”
— Josephus, Jewish War 6.1.1 (Loeb)

This was the empire’s logic of terror — the same system of crucifixion that had killed Jesus, now repeated on a scale of hundreds per day. Early Christians could never look at the Roman cross as anything but a symbol of cruelty and their Lord’s triumph over it.

Aftermath: Slavery, Spectacle, and the Jewish Tax

Thousands of survivors were:

Paraded through Rome in Titus’s triumph, forced to carry sacred items like the Menorah.
Sold into slavery across the empire.

Rome minted coins that read:

“Judea Capta” — Judea Captured.

And then came the fiscus Judaicus—the Jewish tax.

“He also decreed that all Jews throughout the world should pay each year two drachmas to the Capitol in Rome, as they had previously paid them to the Temple in Jerusalem.”
— Dio Cassius (c. AD 200–220), Roman History 66.7 (Loeb)

For Jewish Christians, this was especially complex. In Judea, they were still outwardly seen as part of the Jewish community and likely taxed along with them. But in Rome, Nero had already distinguished Christians as a separate group. The destruction of the Temple and the imposition of this tax pushed the divide further: Christians were being forced to decide — were they simply another branch of Judaism, or something distinct?

And the atmosphere in Rome was not one of tolerance. Suetonius (c. AD 120) records:

“He banished from the city the philosophers and the astrologers.”
— Suetonius, Vespasian 15 (Loeb)

This wasn’t aimed at Christians directly, but it reveals the suspicion with which Rome viewed any new teachers or rival authorities. The gospel’s claim that Jesus is Lord would have sounded as threatening to imperial ears as the mutterings of philosophers or astrologers.

The Arch of Titus

The victory was immortalized in stone. After Titus’s death, the Roman Senate and People built the Arch of Titus (c. AD 81), which still stands in Rome today.

The dedicatory inscription reads:

“The Senate and People of Rome [dedicated this] to the deified Titus Vespasian Augustus, son of the deified Vespasian.”

Inside the arch, the reliefs show Roman soldiers carrying the sacred objects of the Jerusalem Temple — the Menorah, the Table of Showbread, and even the Torah scrolls. Josephus describes the same scene in his account of Titus’s triumph:

“They brought the menorah and the table of the bread of the Presence, and the last of the spoils was the Law of the Jews. After these, a great number of captives followed.”
— Josephus, Jewish War 7.5.5 (Loeb, c. AD 75–79)

For Rome, this was not just a military victory. It was theological. In Roman eyes, Titus had defeated the Jewish god himself. That is why the arch presents Titus as a god honored for his conquest: our god overcame your god.

For Jews and Christians alike, the arch became a bitter monument. For Christians especially, it underscored the truth that the Temple was gone, but Christ had already promised: “Not one stone shall be left upon another.”

The Christians Who Fled – and the First Heretical Group

The church in Jerusalem did not perish in the siege.

“The people of the church in Jerusalem had been commanded by a revelation… to dwell in a town of Perea called Pella.”
— Eusebius (c. AD 310–325), Ecclesiastical History 3.5.3 (Loeb)

This flight preserved the core of the church, but not all Christians escaped. Those who stayed in Jerusalem, or who were caught in the countryside during Rome’s advance, would have shared the same fate as their Jewish neighbors — famine, crucifixion, or slavery. The Roman army made no distinction. To them, it was one rebellious people.

But at Pella, Christians regrouped. And in the same city, other Jewish survivors settled. Out of this mixture emerged the Ebionites, the first major heretical group.

They rejected Paul as an apostle.
They insisted on strict adherence to the Law.
They denied the full divinity of Jesus.
They used only a corrupted form of Matthew’s Gospel, altered to fit their theology.

Epiphanius (c. AD 375–400) writes:

“They accept the Gospel according to Matthew, but only that which is called ‘according to the Hebrews.’ They call it the Gospel of Matthew, however it is not complete and entire but falsified and mutilated.”
— Panarion 30.13.2

Irenaeus (c. AD 180) confirms:

“Those who are called Ebionites… use the Gospel according to Matthew only, and repudiate the Apostle Paul, maintaining that he was an apostate from the law.”
— Against Heresies 1.26.2

The fact that the Ebionites were already mutilating Matthew’s Gospel in the 70s AD shows that Matthew must have been written before the destruction of the Temple.

This stands in contrast to the critical scholarly view, which typically places Mark around AD 70 and Matthew and Luke in the 80s or later. Their reasoning? Jesus’ prophecy of the Temple’s destruction. They assume prophecy is impossible, and therefore the Gospels must have been written after the event.

But if Matthew was already available to be twisted by the Ebionites in the 70s, then Mark — the source they say Matthew used — must be earlier still. The Gospels, far from being late inventions, stand close to the events they describe.

For more on the Ebionites and their altered gospel, see my earlier blog post: [The Ebionites]

Rome’s Pride, God’s Judgment

Tacitus (c. AD 100–110) gives us the Roman perspective:

“Their temple was famous beyond all other works of men… it was resolved to raze it to the ground, that the religion of the Jews might be more completely abolished.”
— Tacitus, Histories 5.12 (Loeb)

But Jesus had said long before:

“Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone shall be left upon another that shall not be thrown down.”
— Mark 13:2

To Rome, it was conquest.
To Christians, it was fulfillment.

Conclusion: What This Meant for Christians

The fall of Jerusalem was not only a Jewish tragedy but a Christian turning point.

It validated Jesus’ prophecy of the Temple’s destruction.
It preserved the church through the flight to Pella — though many Christians were slaughtered along with the Jews.
It deepened the separation between Christianity and Judaism.
It produced the first major heresy (Ebionites), which ironically confirms the early existence of Matthew’s Gospel.

Tacitus summed up Rome’s perspective:

“It was resolved to raze it to the ground, that the religion of the Jews might be more completely abolished.”
— Tacitus, Histories 5.12 (Loeb, c. AD 100–110)

What Rome thought was the abolition of a religion, Christians understood as the vindication of Christ’s words:

“Not one stone shall be left upon another that shall not be thrown down.” (Mark 13:2)

Vespasian and Titus were hailed as saviors of Rome and later deified as gods. But their triumph was also God’s judgment — and the stage on which Christianity stepped into a new identity as the true temple of the living God.

Hatred of the Human Race: Rome’s First Verdict on Christianity

August 19, 2025August 19, 2025 / Jason Conrad / Leave a comment

When Claudius ruled the Roman Empire from AD 41 to 54, the Christian movement was still young. His reign, while not free from hostility, created an unusual window in which the church could grow rapidly across the empire. Claudius’ policies toward Jews — and Christians who were still seen as part of Judaism — meant the faith could spread along the empire’s roads, through its cities, and into its synagogues with relatively less interference from the imperial government.

But this didn’t mean the first Christians were safe. In Judea, Herod Agrippa I executed James the son of Zebedee and imprisoned Peter. Claudius himself expelled Jews from Rome — an act that affected Jewish Christians as well. Persecution was still real, but it was often local and sporadic.

Under Nero, who reigned from AD 54 to 68, everything changed. In the aftermath of the Great Fire of Rome in AD 64, Christians were no longer treated as just another branch of Judaism. For the first time, they were publicly named, legally separated from the Jewish community, and branded as a dangerous new superstition.

During Nero’s reign, Paul wrote several of his most significant letters — 2 Corinthians, Romans, Philippians, and Philemon. In them, he repeatedly testifies to Christian suffering, urging endurance and faithfulness in the face of mounting hostility. These were not abstract warnings. Paul himself was on the road to Rome, knowing he would one day stand before the emperor’s judgment seat — and, by all early accounts, be executed for the gospel he preached.

The Great Fire of Rome and the First Imperial Persecution (AD 64)

In July AD 64, a massive fire swept through Rome. Ancient sources disagree on whether Nero was responsible, but the rumor persisted. To end it, he found a scapegoat.

Tacitus, Annals 15.44 (Loeb Translation)

“To suppress the rumor, Nero fabricated scapegoats and punished with every refinement the notoriously depraved Christians (as they were popularly called). Their originator, Christ, had been executed in Tiberius’ reign by the procurator of Judea, Pontius Pilatus.

Checked for a moment, this pernicious superstition again broke out—not only in Judea, the home of the disease, but even in Rome, where all things horrible or shameful in the world collect and find a vogue.

First, those who confessed were arrested; then, on their information, a vast multitude was convicted, not so much on the charge of arson as for hatred of the human race.

Their deaths were made farcical. Dressed in wild animal skins, they were torn to pieces by dogs, or crucified, or made into torches to be ignited after dark as substitutes for daylight.

Nero provided his gardens for the spectacle, and exhibited displays in the Circus, at which he mingled with the crowd—dressed as a charioteer or mounted on a chariot.

Hence, in spite of a guilt which had earned the most exemplary punishment, there arose a sentiment of pity, due to the impression that they were being sacrificed not for the welfare of the state but to the ferocity of a single man.”
—Tacitus, Annals 15.44, Loeb Classical Library

What Did “Hatred of the Human Race” Mean?

To Roman ears, this charge meant Christians refused the social glue of Roman life.

They would not sacrifice to the gods for the welfare of the empire.
They avoided festivals, temples, and gladiatorial games.
They proclaimed divine judgment on the world, which Romans heard as contempt for humanity itself.

Christians believed they were called to love their neighbors, but their refusal to share in Rome’s civic religion was taken as proof that they despised mankind.

Suetonius, Life of Nero 16.2 (Loeb Translation)

“Punishments were also inflicted on the Christians, a sect professing a new and mischievous religious belief.”

Cassius Dio (via Zonaras, Loeb-based paraphrase)

“Nero was the first to punish the Christians, though they were guilty of no crime. Some were torn by dogs, others crucified, and others burned alive to serve as lamps at night.
The spectacle was held in Nero’s gardens. He mingled with the crowd in a charioteer’s garb. Pity arose, for it was evident they were being put to death not for the public good, but to gratify the cruelty of a single man.”

Why Christians, Not Jews, Were Targeted

Until Nero, Christians often shared in the legal protection Rome afforded to Judaism — a tolerated “ancient superstition.” But after the fire, Nero treated Christianity as a separate, unauthorized cult.

“Punishments were also inflicted on the Christians, a sect professing a new and mischievous religious belief.”
—Suetonius, Nero 16.2

“Checked for a moment, this pernicious superstition again broke out — not only in Judea, the home of the disease, but even in Rome…”
—Tacitus, Annals 15.44

Rome’s Respect for Ancient Religions but Suspicion of New Ones

“Whatever is novel in religion is forbidden; but whatever is ancient is respected — even if it be based on error.”
—Tacitus, Histories 5.5, Loeb

“Religious belief exerts enormous power over the minds of men… Ancient religions win tolerance through their antiquity; new ones are looked on with suspicion, particularly when they refuse to worship the Roman gods.”
—Pliny the Elder, Natural History 30.11, Loeb

Group	Roman View	Legal Status
Jews	Ancient superstition	Tolerated (licita)
Christians	New superstition	Unlawful (illicita)

Modern Skepticism vs. Ancient Testimony

Candida Moss, The Myth of Persecution (2013):

“The earliest Christians were not targeted for being Christians… They were targeted for their refusal to obey the laws of the land.”

Bart Ehrman, The Triumph of Christianity (2018):

“Christians were persecuted not because of their religion per se, but because they were perceived to be antisocial and subversive to Roman unity.”

But the Roman historians describe something different.

Tacitus: a pernicious superstition spreading from Judea to Rome.
Suetonius: a new and mischievous religious belief.
Cassius Dio: Christians guilty of “no crime,” yet publicly humiliated and killed.
Pliny the Elder: Rome tolerated ancient faiths, but new ones were inherently suspicious.

This was not simply scapegoating. It was the classification of Christianity as an unlawful religion — a precedent that would echo for decades.

Nero’s Persecution Compared with the Stoics

It is true that Nero also executed Stoic philosophers like Seneca and Thrasea Paetus. But there is a difference. The Stoics were influential individuals silenced for their independence. The Christians were rounded up in “a vast multitude” and condemned as a whole movement.

Nero’s persecution was not just the removal of a few dissidents. It was the criminalization of a religion.

The Precedent That Shaped the Next Half-Century

By defining Christians as a separate, new superstition, Nero set a precedent every emperor from Nero to Trajan would inherit:

Christians could no longer claim Jewish exemptions.
As a superstitio nova, Christianity was inherently unlawful.
Governors had freedom to punish Christians whenever accusations arose.

This principle explains why, fifty years later, the governor Pliny the Younger could interrogate and execute Christians simply for the name — and why Emperor Trajan confirmed that policy. What began in Nero’s gardens would be codified in imperial correspondence.

The Martyrdom of Peter and Paul

Early Christian sources agree that Peter and Paul died in Nero’s persecution.

Dionysius of Corinth: “Peter and Paul… were martyred at the same time.”
Tertullian: “After having cruelly put to death Peter and Paul…”
Eusebius: “Paul was beheaded in Rome itself, and Peter likewise was crucified under Nero.”
Acts of Paul (late 2nd c.): Paul told Nero, “You will stand before the judgment seat of God,” before being beheaded outside the city.

Other Traditional Martyrs Under Nero

Linus – Peter’s successor; said to be martyred in Rome (Liber Pontificalis).
Mark the Evangelist – tradition places his death in Alexandria during Nero’s reign.
Trophimus and Eutychus – companions of Paul; later traditions connect them to Nero’s persecution.
Processus and Martinian – Roman guards who converted and were executed (Acts of Peter and Paul).

Conclusion

Under Nero (AD 54–68), Christianity became an illegal religion — not because it was violent, but because it was new, exclusive, and refused Rome’s gods.

Roman historians confirm the scale and cruelty of the persecution.
Christian writers affirm that Peter and Paul were among the victims.
Roman law explains why Christians were targeted apart from Jews.

The precedent Nero set would outlive him. For the next half-century, Christians lived under the same vulnerability — a reality spelled out with chilling clarity in the letters of Pliny and Trajan, which we will explore in a future post.

Claudius, the Jews, and the Window for the Gospel (AD 41–54)

August 11, 2025August 11, 2025 / Jason Conrad / Leave a comment

Introduction

When Caligula was assassinated in AD 41, the empire teetered between chaos and reform.
The Senate debated restoring the Republic, but the Praetorian Guard made their choice: they found Claudius, uncle to Caligula, hiding behind a curtain in the palace, and proclaimed him emperor.
He would reign from AD 41 to 54 — thirteen years that gave the early church unprecedented space to grow.

Claudius was no outsider to Rome’s first imperial family.
He was the step-grandson of Augustus through Augustus’ marriage to Livia Drusilla, the grandmother who raised him.
This Julio-Claudian lineage tied Claudius directly to the imperial tradition of Julius Caesar and Augustus — and under his rule, he would restore and reaffirm the protections for the Jews that both men had supported.

Roman historians describe Claudius as bookish, awkward, and underestimated — the butt of jokes in his own family. Yet when given the throne, he proved unexpectedly competent, bringing stability after years of volatility.

For the Jewish people — and for the Christians still seen as part of Judaism — this meant an abrupt reversal from Caligula’s threats.
Claudius restored and reaffirmed the privileges and protections for Jewish communities that had first been granted by Julius Caesar and confirmed by Augustus.
This meant legal recognition of their right to keep the Sabbath, follow their food laws, send offerings to the Temple, and live according to their ancestral customs.

It was during these years that Paul completed all three missionary journeys and wrote his earliest letters, as recorded in the book of Acts.

Christians Were Still Seen as Jews

In the early 40s AD, Rome still made no distinction between Jews and Christians.
The followers of Jesus worshiped in synagogues and kept many Jewish customs.
Their legal standing was tied to that of the Jewish people.

That meant that Claudius’ actions to protect Jewish rights automatically extended to Christians as well.
The legal umbrella was still intact.

Claudius’ Letter to the Alexandrians

Shortly after taking power, Claudius addressed a violent conflict between Jews and Greeks in Alexandria — the same city where Philo had once pleaded with Caligula for relief.
Claudius sent a decree restoring order and reaffirming Jewish rights.

Josephus, Antiquities 19.278–285 (c. AD 93):
“Tiberius Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, imperator, consul, tribune of the people, to the city of the Alexandrians, greeting.

I have long been aware of the troubles which have existed in your city between the Jewish and the Greek inhabitants, and of the recent outbreaks that occurred under my predecessor Gaius. Now, having become emperor, and desiring to settle these disturbances, I issue this decree.

I therefore command the Greeks and the Jews who live in the same city not to engage in further unrest or unlawful behavior toward one another.

The Jews shall not again be expelled from Alexandria, nor shall their rights be diminished, but they are to continue to inhabit the city in accordance with their ancestral customs.

They are not to bring in or admit Jews from Syria or Egypt as new settlers in the city, but only those who already reside there may continue in peace.

I strictly forbid them to hold public meetings except in accordance with their ancestral customs and only in those places officially assigned to them — meaning their synagogues.

Furthermore, I order that no one shall insult them or interfere with their observance of the Sabbath, or any of their other traditional rites and customs.

They are to enjoy all the rights and privileges they formerly had under Augustus and the other emperors.

If anyone violates this order — Jew or Greek — I shall take vengeance on them as a disturber of the peace, no matter what nation they belong to.”

This was one of Claudius’ very first acts as emperor — a clear break from Caligula’s religious aggression and a deliberate restoration of the policies of Julius Caesar and Augustus.

Claudius’ General Decree to the Provinces

Claudius didn’t stop with Alexandria. He issued a broader decree to all the provinces, making protection of Jewish customs an imperial policy.

Josephus, Antiquities 19.286–291:
“Tiberius Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, imperator and consul for the second time, issues the following decree:

Since I am fully persuaded that the Jewish people — not only in Alexandria but throughout the entire world — have increased in numbers and are living with prosperity,

and since they have continually demonstrated loyalty to us and to our ancestors, especially in matters of religion and public conduct,

I judge it right that they should be permitted to continue in observance of their ancestral customs without interference.

Therefore I order that the same privileges granted to them from the time of Augustus — and after him by my father Drusus and my brother Germanicus — be fully maintained in all the cities under Roman rule.

I command that no one shall molest them or compel them to abandon their customs, particularly concerning:
— the keeping of the Sabbath,
— their food laws,
— and their sending of offerings to the Temple in Jerusalem.

In these matters, the Jews are not to be harassed or charged with offenses, so long as they continue in their loyalty and orderly conduct.”

This decree explicitly names Augustus as the source of these rights — and Augustus had been continuing what Julius Caesar had already put in place decades earlier. Claudius was not inventing new privileges; he was reinforcing a long-standing imperial policy that gave Jews, and by extension early Christians, freedom to practice their faith.

The Rome Expulsion

Despite his protections for Jewish customs, Claudius would not tolerate unrest in the capital.
Around AD 49 or 50, disturbances among the Jewish population in Rome led to a sweeping expulsion.

Acts 18:2:
“There he met a Jew named Aquila, a native of Pontus, who had recently come from Italy with his wife Priscilla, because Claudius had ordered all the Jews to leave Rome.”

Suetonius, Life of Claudius 25.4 (c. AD 110–130):
“Since the Jews constantly made disturbances at the instigation of Chrestus, he expelled them from Rome.”

“Chrestus” is almost certainly a misunderstanding of “Christus” — Christ. The unrest likely involved disputes within the Jewish community over Jesus as the Messiah.

Among those expelled were Aquila and Priscilla, who were already Christians when Paul met them in Corinth. Acts never records their conversion; they immediately appear as trusted co-laborers in ministry.

Christianity had, by this point, already reached Rome before Paul ever visited. Paul confirms this in Romans 1:8, writing, “Your faith is being reported all over the world.” The church in Rome likely began through Jewish believers who had been in Jerusalem at Pentecost (Acts 2:10) and carried the gospel back home.

What Was Happening in the Church?

Claudius’ reign was one of the most formative in early church history:

James the brother of John was martyred c. AD 44
- Emperor: Claudius
- Official: Herod Agrippa I (Acts 12:1–2)
Peter was arrested, likely to be executed next (Acts 12:3–11)
Paul’s First Missionary Journey: AD 46–48 (Acts 13–14)
The Jerusalem Council: AD 49 (Acts 15)
Paul’s Second Missionary Journey: AD 49–52 (Acts 15:36–18:22)
Paul tried before Gallio, Roman proconsul of Achaia (Acts 18:12–17)
Paul’s Third Missionary Journey: AD 52–54 (Acts 18:23–21:16)

Paul’s Letters During Claudius’ Reign

Several of Paul’s letters were written under Claudius:

Galatians – c. AD 48–49, likely between the first and second journeys, addressing the push to require Gentile Christians to keep the Mosaic Law.
1 Thessalonians – c. AD 50–51, written from Corinth during the second journey to encourage a persecuted young church.
1 Corinthians – c. AD 53–54, written from Ephesus during the third journey to address division, immorality, and doctrinal confusion.

Persecution Continued Under Claudius

Although Claudius’ reign provided legal protection through Judaism’s recognized status, Paul’s own letters from this period show that persecution was an ongoing expectation and reality for the church.

In Galatians, Paul warns against compromising the gospel under pressure from those demanding Gentile believers keep the law (Galatians 1:6–10; 4:29).
In 1 Thessalonians, he commends the believers for standing firm in the face of suffering: “You suffered from your own people the same things those churches of God suffered from the Jews” (1 Thessalonians 2:14).
In 1 Corinthians, he speaks of apostles being “condemned to die in the arena” and “made a spectacle to the whole universe” (1 Corinthians 4:9).

This persecution came from multiple directions —

Jewish authorities, as seen in Paul’s repeated synagogue expulsions (Acts 13:45–50; 14:2–6; 17:5–9).
Local Gentile opposition, stirred up by economic or religious concerns (Acts 16:19–24; 19:23–41).
And from rulers like Herod Agrippa I, who executed James the brother of John and imprisoned Peter in Jerusalem during Claudius’ reign (Acts 12:1–3).

Even in this window of stability, Paul and the churches he planted understood that following Christ meant sharing in his sufferings — a reality they embraced alongside the rapid spread of the gospel.

The Crucial Window: Caligula to Nero

Between Caligula’s threats to desecrate the Temple and Nero’s fire in AD 64 came a rare 13-year window of stability under Claudius.
In that time:

Paul completed all three missionary journeys.
The gospel spread across Syria, Galatia, Macedonia, and Achaia.
The first New Testament letters were written.
The church began to define the gospel for both Jew and Gentile.
Christianity had already reached Rome before Paul arrived, and the church there was strong enough for him to say their faith was known “all over the world” (Romans 1:8).

Had Claudius ruled like Caligula — or had Nero come to power earlier — the story could have been very different.

Conclusion

Claudius died in AD 54, likely poisoned by his wife Agrippina.
Her son, Nero, became emperor.
And under Nero, the fire would start.

But for just over a decade, the church had room to grow — protected under the legal status of Judaism, traveling freely across the empire, planting congregations, writing the Scriptures that would anchor the Christian faith, and enduring persecution with the expectation that it was part of following Christ.

Caligula, the Jews, and the Birth of the Christian Name

August 10, 2025August 11, 2025 / Jason Conrad / Leave a comment

Introduction

When the Emperor Tiberius died in AD 37, the empire — and Judea in particular — was ready for change.
Years of suspicion and repression had left the people weary.

Into that moment stepped Gaius Julius Caesar Germanicus — better known by his childhood nickname, Caligula, “little boots.”
At first, he was welcomed as a breath of fresh air: the beloved son of the popular general Germanicus, a man whose family name still inspired loyalty in the legions.

But within months of taking the throne, Caligula’s rule took a shocking turn.
A serious illness changed him — or perhaps revealed him.
He began to speak and act as if he were not just Rome’s ruler, but Rome’s god.

Caligula’s four-year reign takes us into the early chapters of the book of Acts — roughly Acts 8 through Acts 11, and possibly touching Acts 12. This is the period after Stephen’s martyrdom, when Saul is converted, the gospel spreads to Samaria, and the first Gentiles come to faith.
In Acts 11:26 we read, “The disciples were first called Christians in Antioch.”
That moment, the birth of the Christian name, happens right around the time Caligula is assassinated.

At this stage in history, Christians were still viewed by Rome as part of the Jewish community. There was no legal distinction between them. Because of that, they came under the same imperial pressures as the Jews — but their primary opposition, as the book of Acts records, came from certain Jewish religious leaders, not directly from Rome.

Demanding Worship

Caligula’s early popularity soon gave way to demands for divine honors.

Cassius Dio, Roman History 59.28 (c. AD 200–235):
“He gave orders that the statue of Zeus at Olympia be brought to Rome, in order that he might set up a statue of himself in its place, and be worshipped as Zeus.”

Suetonius, Caligula 22 (c. AD 110–130):
“He demanded that all statues of the gods be brought to Rome and have his image set upon them.
Those who failed to swear by his Genius or sacrifice to him were executed or exiled.”

Cassius Dio, Roman History 59.6:
“He became terribly bloodthirsty, once stained with blood. He killed without trial anyone he suspected.
And because he was now calling himself a god, any slight was counted as sacrilege.”

Cassius Dio, Roman History 59.25:
“In Gaul he executed many nobles who failed to show delight at his arrival.
Some were accused of mocking the temples erected in his honor.”

These weren’t harmless eccentricities. Caligula’s divine pretensions were enforced with political terror. Refusal to participate in his worship could mean exile, confiscation of property, or death — whether you were a senator in Rome or a provincial subject.

Christians Were Still Seen as Jews

In the late 30s AD, the Roman state made no distinction between Jews and Christians.

The followers of Jesus still met in synagogues. They kept many Jewish customs. Their proclamation of a crucified and risen Messiah looked, to outsiders, like one more messianic variation within Judaism.

That meant that when Jews came under threat for refusing emperor worship, Christians came under the same threat — not because Rome recognized them as a separate group, but because they were still identified as Jews.

It’s important to remember: in this period, as Acts records, the primary persecution of Christians came from Jewish religious authorities and their allies, not from the Roman state.

The Temple Statue Order

Caligula’s most infamous act toward the Jews came in AD 39 or 40, when he ordered a colossal statue of himself to be placed in the Jerusalem Temple — the holiest site in Judaism.

Josephus, Antiquities 18.261–262 (c. AD 93):
“Petronius, the governor of Syria, was astonished at the constancy of the Jews… Tens of thousands came to meet him, begging him not to allow the laws of their forefathers to be transgressed. They threw themselves on the ground and exposed their necks, declaring they were ready to be slain rather than see the image set up.”

Josephus, War 2.195 (c. AD 75):
“They continued in this posture for forty days, lying prostrate on the ground and praying with tears that the laws of their forefathers not be violated.”

Josephus, Antiquities 18.278:
“They said they would rather let their land lie untilled than submit to such impiety. ‘We will neither fight nor flee,’ they said, ‘but if you wish, kill us. Slaughter us as sacrifices upon our own soil, and we shall die satisfied if we keep our Law.’”

This was a theological line that could not be crossed. The Jewish resistance was total and nonviolent, but it risked triggering a rebellion that could have spread far beyond Judea.

Philo Stands Before Caligula

In Alexandria, Jews were being attacked. Synagogues were seized. A delegation led by Philo of Alexandria (c. AD 40s) was sent to plead their case before Caligula.

Philo’s description in Embassy to Gaius is striking.

Philo, Embassy to Gaius 206:
“He would run to the peacocks and talk to them, then dart off to a cluster of trees… laughing loudly and pretending to judge the beauty of the statues.
We followed him like prisoners in a triumphal procession.”

Philo, Embassy to Gaius 351–352:
“He ridiculed us without restraint.
He said, ‘You are people who do not believe I have been made a god, although I am clearly one!’
And when we tried to explain our ancestral customs, he laughed louder still and said,
‘You are not defending your religion — you are insulting mine!’”

Philo, Embassy to Gaius 358:
“No one could guess what he would do next.
His madness was like the sea, stirred by contrary winds — always shifting, never at peace.”

The emperor’s mood, not the law, was the deciding factor for the fate of entire communities.

Petronius Risks His Life

In Judea, the man tasked with carrying out the statue order was the governor of Syria, Publius Petronius. He saw the Jewish determination to resist and feared the order would ignite a rebellion that could consume the whole region.

Josephus, Antiquities 18.297–299:
“Petronius took the blame upon himself… He wrote to Caligula saying that if he forced the image into the Temple, all Syria would be in revolt.
He told his wife and children to prepare for his death.”

Caligula sent a letter ordering Petronius to commit suicide. But before it arrived:

Josephus, Antiquities 18.302:
“The letter from Caligula, commanding Petronius to kill himself, was already on its way —
but a messenger arrived first announcing that Gaius was dead. And so Petronius was saved.”

What Was Happening in the Church?

During Caligula’s reign:

Jesus had been crucified just a few years earlier, c. AD 30.
Paul had been converted, c. AD 31–32.
The gospel had spread to Samaria and Antioch.
According to Acts 11:26, “The disciples were first called Christians in Antioch.”
The events of Acts 8–11 — and possibly into Acts 12 — take place during these years.
The primary persecution of Christians recorded in Acts during this period came from certain Jewish authorities (Acts 8:1–3; Acts 9:1–2), not from Rome.

Conclusion

Caligula’s reign ended in AD 41 when members of the Praetorian Guard assassinated him.
For the Jews — and for Christians — his death was seen as a deliverance.

But his four years on the throne left a deep impression: the empire could demand worship from its subjects, and refusal could bring you to the brink of death.

The birth of the Christian name in Antioch happened in this very period, under the shadow of an emperor who claimed to be all the gods.

In the next post, we’ll see how the man who succeeded him — Claudius — brought a surprising period of stability, and how, under that stability, the Christian mission exploded across the empire.

Why Even Atheist Historians Believe in John the Baptist

August 1, 2025 / Jason Conrad / Leave a comment

What kind of world crucified Jesus—and why do even atheist historians agree that John the Baptist was real? This post explores the reign of Emperor Tiberius (AD 14–37) and the volatile political and religious landscape of Judea under Roman rule. It was during this time that both John the Baptist and Jesus of Nazareth were executed. And just one year later, Paul the Apostle was converted. Drawing on the writings of Josephus, Philo, and Tacitus, we’ll see how Rome responded to charismatic Jewish voices—and how their attempts to silence those voices only fueled the Christian movement.

“Now in the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar…”

That line from Luke 3:1 grounds the Gospel narrative in historical time. Tiberius ruled from AD 14 to 37. The fifteenth year corresponds to AD 28 or 29. Pontius Pilate was the governor of Judea. And John the Baptist was already preaching in the wilderness.

John the Baptist: A Voice Rome Couldn’t Ignore

Historians—including secular and even atheist scholars—agree that John the Baptist is one of the most historically verifiable figures from the New Testament. Why?

He’s documented in multiple independent sources: all four Gospels and the writings of Josephus, a Jewish historian with no sympathy for Christianity.
He presents a “criterion of embarrassment”—Jesus submits to baptism by John, which would suggest moral inferiority. The early church wouldn’t have invented that.
His role fits perfectly into first-century Jewish culture, when prophetic voices were seen as potential threats under Roman occupation.
His preaching content cited by Josephus matches what the Gospel accounts share as well.

Josephus was born in AD 37, just a few years after John’s death. He would have grown up among people who had heard John preach. Here’s Josephus’s full account:

“Now some of the Jews thought that the destruction of Herod’s army came from God, and that it was a very just punishment for what he had done against John, who was called the Baptist. For Herod had killed this good man, who had exhorted the Jews to lead righteous lives, to practice justice toward their fellows and piety toward God, and so doing join in baptism. In his view this was a necessary preliminary if baptism was to be acceptable to God. They must not employ it to gain pardon for whatever sins they committed, but as a consecration of the body, implying that the soul was already cleansed by right behavior.

When others too joined the crowds about him because they were aroused to the highest degree by his sermons, Herod became alarmed. Eloquence that had so great an effect on mankind might lead to some form of sedition, for it looked as if they would do everything he counseled. Herod decided, therefore, that it would be much better to strike first and be rid of him than to wait until a disturbance broke out and he had to act when it was too late. Because of Herod’s suspicions, John was sent in chains to the fortress of Machaerus, which we have previously mentioned, and there put to death. The Jews, to this day, hold that the destruction of his army was a punishment sent upon Herod by God, a mark of his disapproval of what he had done against John.”
—Josephus, Antiquities 18.5.2

John was not a violent revolutionary. He called people to repentance and moral renewal. But Herod Antipas feared his influence. The people were ready to “do everything he counseled.” In a Roman client state, that was enough to warrant execution.

Pilate Provokes—and Then Bows to Pressure

Pontius Pilate, appointed by Tiberius, governed Judea from AD 26 to 36. He was known for provoking Jewish unrest. Here’s how Josephus describes one early incident, when Pilate introduced Roman standards bearing Caesar’s image into Jerusalem:

“But now Pilate, the procurator of Judaea, brought into Jerusalem by night and under cover the effigies of Caesar that are called standards. The next day this caused a great uproar among the Jews. Those who were shocked by the incident went in a body to Pilate at Caesarea and for many days begged him to remove the standards from Jerusalem. When he refused, they fell to the ground and remained motionless for five days and nights. On the sixth day Pilate took his seat on the tribunal in the great stadium and summoned the multitude, as if he meant to grant their petition. Instead, he gave a signal to the soldiers to surround the Jews, and threatened to cut them down unless they stopped pressing their petition. But they threw themselves on the ground and bared their necks, shouting that they would welcome death rather than the violation of their laws. Deeply impressed by their religious fervor, Pilate ordered the standards to be removed from Jerusalem.”
—Josephus, Antiquities 18.3.1

Thousands of Jews lay on the ground, necks exposed, ready to die. Pilate backed down. But this moment revealed his tendency to provoke until things nearly exploded.

Philo also describes Pilate’s recklessness—this time involving golden shields inscribed with the emperor’s name:

“Pilate, who had been appointed prefect of Judaea, displayed the shields in Herod’s palace in the Holy City. They bore no image—only an inscription. But when the people learned what had been done, and realized that their laws had been trampled underfoot, they petitioned Pilate to remove the shields. He steadfastly refused. Then they took the matter to Tiberius, who was indignant that Pilate had dared to offend religious sentiments and ordered him by letter to remove the shields immediately and transfer them to Caesarea.”
—Philo, Embassy to Gaius, §§299–305

Pilate was politically clumsy and religiously tone-deaf. But this is the man who would oversee the crucifixion of Jesus.

Tacitus Confirms the Crucifixion

Even Tacitus, the great Roman historian, confirms the execution of Jesus—and notes that Rome failed to stop what it had begun:

“Christus, the founder of the name, had undergone the death penalty in the reign of Tiberius, by sentence of the procurator Pontius Pilatus, and the pernicious superstition was checked for a moment, only to break out once more, not merely in Judea, the home of the disease, but in the capital itself, where all things horrible or shameful in the world collect and find a vogue.”
—Tacitus, Annals 15.44

This phrase—“checked for a moment”—reveals Rome’s belief that the crucifixion had ended the Jesus movement. But instead, it spread.

Tacitus calls Christianity a “pernicious superstition”—a key Roman legal category.

Religio vs. Superstitio: Why Rome Saw Christians as Dangerous

To the Roman mind:

Religio referred to official, ancestral, state-sponsored worship—gods like Jupiter or Mars, or the emperor himself.
Superstitio meant foreign, irrational, and unauthorized religion—often seen as destabilizing.

By labeling Christianity as a superstition rather than a religio, Tacitus reveals how Rome legally and socially marginalized the movement. It wasn’t just false—it was disruptive and subversive.

“Let the very mention of the cross be far removed not only from the body of a Roman citizen, but from his thoughts, his eyes, his ears.”
—Cicero, Against Verres 2.5.168

The cross was something to be erased from polite society. But the early Christians made it the centerpiece of their message.

AD 31: The Conversion of Paul

In AD 31, just one year after Jesus was crucified, Saul of Tarsus—a Roman citizen and a Pharisee—was converted. He would become Paul the Apostle, and his letters would one day be copied across the empire.

Conclusion: “Checked for the Moment”

When Tiberius died in AD 37, John the Baptist had been silenced, Jesus had been crucified, and Paul had been converted. Rome thought it had preserved peace. But instead, it had launched a kingdom that would spread from Judea to the capital.

Tacitus said the movement was “checked for the moment.”

But that moment didn’t last.

The Sons of God: Augustus and the Christ

July 27, 2025 / Jason Conrad / 1 Comment

What did it mean to call someone “Son of God” in the Roman world—and why would anyone believe it about Jesus?

Before Christianity ever faced persecution, the Jewish people had already gained a remarkable status in the Roman Empire. They were allowed to observe the Sabbath, govern themselves according to their laws, and send offerings to the Jerusalem temple. These rights were not typical for most conquered peoples.

But Rome’s tolerance had limits. The story of how the Jewish people moved from protected status to persecution—how revolts turned into crosses—is crucial for understanding the world Jesus was born into.

And even more striking is this: before anyone called Jesus “Son of God,” those words already belonged to another man—Caesar Augustus.

Julius Caesar and Jewish Privilege

Julius Caesar’s relationship with the Jews was rooted in both politics and pragmatism. During the Roman civil war, the Jewish high priest Hyrcanus II supported Caesar against Pompey. In return, Caesar issued formal decrees protecting Jewish religious customs and governance:

“Gaius Julius Caesar… orders that [the Jews] be permitted to observe their own customs and laws and to gather together according to their ancestral customs.”
—Josephus, Antiquities 14.190–192 (Whiston)

“Gaius Caesar… has granted to Hyrcanus… and to the Jewish nation, exemption from tribute every seventh year… and that they may be governed according to their own laws.”
—Antiquities 14.213–216

These were not vague gestures—they were publicly posted and sent to provincial officials for enforcement.

By the first century, Jews made up 7–10% of the Roman Empire, with communities spread across nearly every major city. Their presence was especially concentrated along Rome’s eastern frontier, bordering the Parthian Empire, Rome’s greatest military rival. For Caesar, Jewish loyalty brought stability to a region where stability was hard to come by.

“Countless myriads of Jews are in every region… in Asia and Europe, in the islands and mainland, in the East and the West.”
—Philo, Embassy to Gaius §281, c. AD 41

“There is no city, no nation, no people among whom our custom… has not spread… they have penetrated every city.”
—Josephus, Against Apion 2.282, c. AD 95

When Caesar was assassinated in 44 BC, the Jews stood out in their mourning.

“At Caesar’s funeral, the Jews alone mourned for him publicly and for many nights kept vigil at his tomb.”
—Appian, Civil Wars 2.148, c. AD 120

Rome Respected the Ancient

Rome didn’t simply tolerate the Jews because of politics. Their religion was ancient—and that mattered deeply in Roman culture. New religions were suspicious. Old ones were revered.

“Whatever their origin, their customs are at least ancient, and therefore entitled to respect.”
—Tacitus, Histories 5.5, c. AD 100

“All new kinds of religion are suspect… only ancient worships are worthy of divine status.”
—Pliny the Elder, Natural History 30.11, c. AD 77

This perspective explains why Jews were granted legal protection, while newer movements like Christianity eventually provoked suspicion and hostility. The age of a religion—its antiquity—was a Roman marker of legitimacy.

Augustus and the Gospel of the Empire

Jesus was born during the reign of Caesar Augustus (27 BC – AD 14), the adopted son of Julius Caesar. He didn’t just inherit Caesar’s power—he inherited Caesar’s divinity.

Augustus was declared Divi Filius—“Son of the Divine [Julius].” He was called savior, lord, and bringer of peace. These weren’t just political slogans—they were religious titles, printed on coins, etched in stone, and celebrated in public festivals.

“He added the title ‘Son of a God’ to his name.”
—Suetonius, Divus Augustus 94.1, c. AD 120

“After my death… the Senate decreed that my name should be included in the hymns of the Salii and be consecrated as a god.”
—Res Gestae Divi Augusti §35, written by Augustus, AD 14

“To the Divine Augustus Caesar, Son of the Divine Julius.”
—Temple Dedication, Pergamon (1st c. BC)

One famous inscription from Priene (9 BC) declared:

“Since Providence… has filled [Augustus] with virtue so that he might benefit mankind… sending him as a Savior (sōtēr)… The birthday of the god Augustus was the beginning for the world of the good tidings (euangelion) that have come through him.”

Even his titles were spiritual:

“To our lord, Augustus Caesar, savior of the inhabited world…”
—Provincial Dedication, Asia Minor

So when the Gospel of Mark opens with:

“The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.”
—Mark 1:1

—it wasn’t just religious language. It was a counterclaim. A direct confrontation with imperial theology.

Herod the Great and the Mass Crucifixions

Jesus was about two years old when Herod the Great died. Though he expanded the Jerusalem temple and was a Roman ally, Herod was known for ruthless paranoia:

“His whole life was a continual scene of bloodshed… even his own sons were not spared.”
—Josephus, Antiquities 17.191–192

“He gave orders to kill a great number of the most illustrious men of the whole Jewish nation…”
—Antiquities 17.204

Among Herod’s victims was Hyrcanus II—the same high priest who had once supported Julius Caesar. His death signaled the end of a political era.

When Herod died in 4 BC, Judea erupted in revolt. The Roman governor Varus responded with overwhelming force:

“Varus… crucified about two thousand of those that had been the authors of the revolt.”
—Jewish War 2.5.2

This was the world into which Jesus was born: a land where crosses lined the roads, and loyalty to Rome was enforced by terror.

The Census and the Revolt of Judas the Galilean

By AD 6, Jesus was about 12 years old. Rome had removed Herod’s son Archelaus, annexed Judea, and placed it under direct rule. A census for taxation followed.

“Coponius… had the power of life and death put into his hands by Caesar…”
—Josephus, Antiquities 18.1.1

“In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be registered…”
—Luke 2:1

For most provinces, a census was normal. But in Judea, taxation felt like a theological betrayal—a declaration that Caesar, not God, was king.

A Galilean named Judas stirred rebellion:

“Judas… said that this taxation was nothing less than slavery… and exhorted the nation to assert their liberty.”
—Antiquities 18.4

“They say that God alone is their ruler and lord… and they do not value dying any more than living…”
—Jewish War 2.117–118

“This was the beginning of great disturbances.”
—Antiquities 18.27

Jesus grew up in Galilee, where this revolt happened. The trauma of crushed rebellion—arrests, crucifixions, suppression—was not distant history. It was personal memory for many families.

Rome Never Forgets

The revolt of Judas the Galilean may have been suppressed, but Rome remembered. Decades later, during the reign of Claudius, Judas’s sons were crucified:

“Two of his sons, James and Simon, were taken and crucified by order of Tiberius Alexander.”
—Antiquities 20.102

Even after Jesus’ own crucifixion, Rome continued to hunt down zealot bloodlines. The cross wasn’t just punishment. It was policy.

Other Revolts, Other Crosses

Judea wasn’t the only place that rebelled.

“The Gauls… declared they were being reduced to slavery under the guise of a census and taxation.”
—Tacitus, Annals 3.40, c. AD 100

“The Britons… outraged by abuses and tribute… rose in fury to throw off the Roman yoke.”
—Annals 14.31

But the difference in Judea was theological.

The Britons and Gauls wanted political freedom. The Jews wanted God’s reign restored. That made the conflict with Caesar something more than rebellion. It made it blasphemy versus worship.

The Gospel Against the Empire

Jesus was born during a Roman census, raised where a zealot revolt was crushed, and crucified by the same empire that lined Judean roads with crosses.

His death was not the first.
But his death redefined what the cross meant.

The gospel of Caesar said:

“The emperor is savior, son of god, and lord.”

The gospel of Jesus said:

“No. He is.”

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.

When Philosophy Clashed with the Cross: Gentile Rejections of the Christ Hymn

June 9, 2025 / Jason Conrad / Leave a comment

In Philippians 2:6–11, one of the earliest Christian hymns declares a staggering paradox: that Jesus Christ, “being in very nature God,” humbled himself to become human and die on a cross—only to be exalted and receive divine worship. This exalted Christ Hymn wasn’t a late invention. It shaped the faith of the first Christians and the apostles themselves.

But not everyone accepted that message.

Historical evidence shows that in the first century, only four divergent movements challenged the apostolic view of Christ. Just one of them—the Nazarenes—existed before 70 AD, and they still affirmed Jesus’ divinity. The other three arose later, as responses from Jewish and Greco-Roman worlds that struggled to accept the core paradox of the Christ Hymn: that the eternal God became human and suffered.

A Quick Recap: The Jewish Divergents

The Nazarenes and Ebionites were early Jewish-Christian groups primarily based in Judea and later Pella. While the Nazarenes affirmed Christ’s divinity, the Ebionites denied it completely, rejected Paul, and altered Matthew’s Gospel to support their theology.

But outside Judea, new challenges arose—fueled by Greek philosophy, mystical speculation, and a deep discomfort with a suffering God.

Cerinthus (c. 80 AD): A Divinity Too High to Suffer

Cerinthus lived in Asia Minor and was shaped by Egyptian education, Jewish thought, and Platonic dualism. These influences led him to deny that a divine being could fully enter the material world, let alone suffer on a cross. His solution? Separate the divine “Christ” from the human Jesus.

Irenaeus – Against Heresies 1.26.1 (c. 180 AD):
“He represented Jesus as having not been born of a virgin… while Christ descended upon him at his baptism, and then departed again before the Passion.”

Epiphanius – Panarion 28.2.1–2 (c. 375 AD):
“Cerinthus… opposed the apostles… especially Paul… and said that it was not right to accept the epistles of Paul.”

Cerinthus also rejected the idea that the supreme God created the world:

Irenaeus – Against Heresies 1.26.1:
“He asserted that the world was not made by the primary God, but by a certain Power far separated from Him…”

This idea reflected Platonic thought:

Philo of Alexandria – On the Creation (c. 20 BC–50 AD):
“It is not lawful to suppose that the supreme God comes into contact with any corruptible thing.”

Plutarch – On Isis and Osiris (c. 100 AD):
“Matter… being evil, could not have been made by a good God… The world must have been fashioned by an inferior deity.”

Cerinthus even promoted false writings under apostolic names:

Eusebius – Ecclesiastical History 3.28.2 (c. 310 AD, quoting Caius of Rome):
“Cerinthus… made use of revelations which he pretended were written by a great apostle…”

Epiphanius – Panarion 28.4.1:
“Cerinthus used only the Gospel according to the Hebrews… He rejected the Apostle Paul completely.”

Most memorably, John the Apostle wanted nothing to do with him:

Irenaeus – Against Heresies 3.3.4:
“John… perceiving Cerinthus within [a bathhouse], rushed out… exclaiming, ‘Let us flee, lest even the bath-house fall down!’”

Cerinthus didn’t simply interpret Jesus differently—he broke entirely from the apostolic tradition, rejected Paul, replaced the Gospels, and rewrote the story. His system preserved a lofty divinity but could not accept that God became flesh—as the Christ Hymn declares.

Docetism (Rooted in the 80s, Expanding in the 2nd Century): Too Divine to Be Human

Where Cerinthus separated Christ from Jesus, Docetism denied Jesus’ humanity altogether. The name comes from dokein (“to seem”)—Jesus only appeared to suffer, appear in the flesh, or die.

John’s letters refute this directly:

1 John 4:2–3:
“Every spirit that confesses that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is of God…”

2 John 7:
“Many deceivers… do not confess Jesus Christ as coming in the flesh. This is a deceiver and an antichrist.”

Docetists didn’t just reinterpret Jesus—they created new documents to promote their view. Here are three major examples:

🔹 Gospel of Peter (late 1st–early 2nd century)

“[Jesus] kept silent as feeling no pain… The Lord cried aloud, ‘My Power, my Power, you have forsaken me!’ And having said it, He was taken up.”

In this account, Jesus’ suffering is denied and his death portrayed as a moment of spiritual release. The body remains, but the divine presence departs—typical of Docetic theology.

Serapion of Antioch – Ecclesiastical History 6.12.6 (c. 190 AD):
“The writings which falsely bear their names we reject, knowing that such were not handed down to us.”

🔹 Acts of John (late 2nd century)

“Sometimes when I walked with him, I would try to touch his body, but it was immaterial… he left no footprints on the ground.”

This portrayal of Jesus as ghostlike reinforces Docetism’s core claim: Jesus’ physicality was a divine illusion.

🔹 Gospel of Judas (late 2nd century)

Though it bears the name of one of Jesus’ disciples, the Gospel of Judas radically reimagines the story of Jesus from a Gnostic and Docetic perspective. In this account, Jesus laughs at the ignorance of his disciples, praises Judas for helping him escape his fleshly prison, and teaches a cosmic creation myth where the true God is utterly separate from the material world.

Gospel of Judas 33.10–11:
“Often he did not appear to his disciples as himself, but he was found among them as a child.”

Here, Jesus is portrayed as a shapeshifter, one whose form is unstable and deceptive. This aligns with Docetic views that Jesus’ physical appearance was an illusion—not essential to his being.

Jesus then teaches that the world was created not by the high God, but by rebellious lower angels:

Gospel of Judas 47.1–9:
“Come, that I may teach you about the [secrets] no person has ever seen. For there exists a great and boundless realm… A luminous cloud appeared there. He said, ‘Let an angel come into being as my attendant.’”

Gospel of Judas 51.1–8:
“Let twelve angels come into being to rule over chaos… An angel appeared whose face flashed with fire… His name was Nebro, which means ‘rebel’; others call him Yaldabaoth. Another angel, Saklas, also came from the cloud.”

Then comes a twisted echo of Genesis:

Gospel of Judas 52.10–11:
“Saklas said to his angels, ‘Let us create a human being after the likeness and the image.’”

Here, the creation of humanity is attributed to fallen or ignorant beings—echoing Cerinthus’s own view that the world was created by a lesser, ignorant power.

Finally, Jesus tells Judas:

Gospel of Judas 56.18–20:
“You will exceed all of them. For you will sacrifice the man that clothes me.”

The crucifixion isn’t seen as atonement but escape from a fleshly shell. This is Docetism to its core.

Ignatius – Smyrnaeans 2.1 (c. 110 AD):
“He truly suffered… not as certain unbelievers say, that he suffered in appearance only.”

Ignatius – Trallians 10.1:
“Be deaf… to anyone who speaks apart from Jesus Christ… who was truly born… truly crucified…”

Conclusion: Rewriting the Story

The Nazarenes, Ebionites, Cerinthians, and Docetists are the only four divergent groups we have clear evidence for in the first century. Only the Nazarenes remained loyal to the divine Jesus of the Christ Hymn.

The other three:

Couldn’t accept the full mystery of Christ as fully divine and fully human.
Rejected the apostolic witness—especially Paul—and altered or replaced canonical texts.
Wrote their own “gospels” and “acts” to support their alternative visions of Jesus.

They didn’t represent equal versions of early Christianity. They were reactions to it—distortions of the message that had already been “handed down” and “received.”

“Who, being in the form of God… emptied Himself… became obedient to the point of death—even death on a cross. Therefore God also has highly exalted Him…”
(Philippians 2:6–9)

That is the Jesus the apostles preached. That is the Jesus the earliest believers worshiped.

Divergence from Christ’s Divinity: What the First-Century Evidence Actually Shows

June 6, 2025 / Jason Conrad / Leave a comment

Welcome to Living the Bible, where we examine the Bible and church history to guide our everyday living. I’m Jason Conrad.

In our previous post, we explored the Christ Hymn of Philippians 2:6–11—a poetic confession that predates Paul’s letters and proclaims Jesus’ divine pre-existence, incarnation, death, and exaltation. This hymn is powerful because it reflects what Christians were already saying and singing about Jesus before the Gospels were written.

But if this high Christology was the original belief, how soon did it face opposition? Were there really many versions of Jesus circulating in the first century, as some modern scholars suggest?

This post will take you directly to the earliest sources, not later summaries or theories. What we find is that, far from a chaotic diversity of Christianities, we see one core proclamation of a divine Christ—and only four identifiable groups that diverged from it during the first century. And even among these, only one group clearly denied Christ’s divinity.

The Nazarenes – 40s AD

Law-Observant Believers Who Affirmed Christ’s Divinity

The Nazarenes are the earliest group to diverge from the apostolic church—not in their view of Jesus, but in their insistence on continued Torah observance. They appear to be the group on the losing side of the Jerusalem Council in Acts 15:

“But some of the sect of the Pharisees who believed rose up, saying, ‘It is necessary to circumcise them and to command them to keep the law of Moses.’” (Acts 15:5)

Though the Council determined that Gentiles were not bound to keep the Law, these Jewish believers did not abandon their heritage. The name “Nazarene,” which originally applied to all Christians (Acts 24:5), gradually came to refer specifically to Jewish Christians who continued observing the Mosaic Law.

James, the brother of Jesus and leader of the Jerusalem church, likely maintained peace and inclusion with these believers. His advice to Paul in Acts 21 seems designed to show the law-observant Jewish Christians that Paul respected their customs:

“You see, brother, how many myriads of Jews there are who have believed, and they are all zealous for the law… Therefore do what we tell you: We have four men who have taken a vow.” (Acts 21:20, 23)

Even though the Nazarenes clung to the Law, they never rejected the divinity of Christ.

Jerome’s Testimony (c. 398–403 AD)

Letter 75 to Augustine:

“The adherents to this sect are known commonly as Nazarenes; they believe in Christ the Son of God, born of the Virgin Mary; and they say that He who suffered under Pontius Pilate and rose again is the same as the one in whom we believe.”

Commentary on Isaiah 8:14:

“The Nazarenes… accept Messiah in such a way that they do not cease to observe the old Law.”

Jerome—writing after the ecumenical councils of Nicaea (325 AD) and Constantinople (381 AD) had carefully defined the Church’s doctrine of Christ’s divinity—still affirms that the Nazarenes believed in “the same” Jesus. This is profoundly important: after all the theological scrutiny of the early church, Jerome still saw their Christology as sound.

Epiphanius’ Ambivalence – Panarion 29.7.5–6 (c. 375 AD)

“They are different from Jews, and different from Christians, only in the following ways. They disagree with Jews because of their belief in Christ; but they are not in accord with Christians because they are still fettered by the Law—circumcision, the Sabbath, and the rest.
As to Christ, I cannot say whether they too are misled by the wickedness of Cerinthus and Merinthus, and regard him as a mere man—or whether, as the truth is, they affirm that he was born of Mary by the Holy Spirit.”

This quote is remarkable. Epiphanius was infamous for aggressively labeling deviations as heresy. The fact that he admits he doesn’t know if the Nazarenes denied Christ’s divinity tells us a lot—if he had any evidence they denied it, he would have used it.

The Ebionites – After 70 AD

A Breakaway Group That Denied Christ’s Divinity

The Ebionites represent the earliest clearly documented group to reject the divinity of Jesus. Unlike the Nazarenes, they stripped away central elements of Christology—the virgin birth, the pre-existence of Christ, and the apostleship of Paul.

Their origins appear after the fall of Jerusalem in 70 AD, when Christians fled to Pella.

Eusebius – Ecclesiastical History 3.5.3 (c. 323 AD)

“But the people of the church in Jerusalem had been commanded by a revelation, vouchsafed to approved men there before the war, to leave the city and to dwell in a certain town of Peraea called Pella.”

Epiphanius – Panarion 29.7.7–8 (c. 375 AD)

“The Ebionites are later than the Nazoraeans, and they came after them. At first their sect began after the flight from Jerusalem, when all the disciples went to live in Pella because of Christ’s prophecy.”

So we can date the rise of the Ebionites to after 70 AD, not before. This was not just a chronological shift—it was a theological fracture. Where the Nazarenes remained within the church and affirmed Christ’s divinity, the Ebionites pulled away entirely, creating a group that:

Denied Jesus’ divinity
Rejected the virgin birth
Falsified Scripture
Rejected Paul as a false apostle

Irenaeus – Against Heresies 1.26.2 (c. 180 AD)

“They use the Gospel according to Matthew only, and repudiate the Apostle Paul, maintaining that he was an apostate from the Law.”

Origen – Commentary on Matthew 16.12 (c. 248 AD)

“The Ebionites believe that He was a mere man, born of Joseph and Mary according to the common course of nature, and that He became righteous through the progress of His moral character.”

Eusebius – Ecclesiastical History 3.27 (c. 323 AD)

“They considered Him a plain and common man… born of Mary and Joseph… justified only because of his progress in virtue.”

Epiphanius – Panarion 30.14.3 (c. 375 AD)

“They falsify the genealogical tables in Matthew’s Gospel… This is because they maintain that Jesus is really a man.”

This is key: they removed the virgin birth from Matthew, altering the Gospel to support their theology.

Epiphanius – Panarion 30.16.6–9

“They declare that [Paul] was a Greek… When he failed to get [a priest’s daughter], he flew into a rage and wrote against circumcision and against the sabbath and the Law.”

In contrast to all other groups, the Ebionites knew they were severing themselves from the apostolic church. They rejected Paul’s letters outright and manipulated Scripture to reflect their theology.

Their theology was not just a different emphasis—it was a deliberate break from the Christian movement centered around Jesus as divine.

Conclusion

This evidence confronts a popular scholarly claim: that early Christianity was a landscape of conflicting “Christianities.” What we actually see—based on the earliest surviving sources—is far more limited:

One unified apostolic church affirming Christ’s divine identity
One group (Nazarenes) that remained inside the church while emphasizing the Mosaic Law
One group (Ebionites) that, after 70 AD, openly rejected Christ’s divinity, Paul’s authority, and Gospel material

The others—Cerinthians and Docetists—will be covered in the next post, but neither appears before 70 AD. That means there is only one group we know of before 70 AD that diverged from the apostolic tradition—and they still upheld Christ’s divine nature.

Only after the fall of Jerusalem do we see the first deliberate rejection of Jesus’ divinity. And even then, it was just one group, not many.

In short: the myth of “many Christianities” in the first century is not supported by the evidence. The overwhelming testimony of early sources shows a consistent, early affirmation of Jesus as divine—proclaimed, preserved, and only slowly challenged as the church spread.

A Hymn Older Than the Gospels Calls Jesus Divine

June 1, 2025 / Jason Conrad / Leave a comment

One of the most repeated claims in modern New Testament scholarship is that the early church gradually elevated Jesus to divine status. The argument often follows a literary timeline: Jesus starts out as a humble, misunderstood teacher in the Gospel of Mark (dated around AD 70) and ends up boldly identified as divine in the Gospel of John (around AD 90). That evolution, we’re told, reveals how Jesus went from man to God in the minds of believers.

But that narrative collapses when we examine the earliest Christian writings.

What’s the Real Timeline?

Even if we follow the timeline laid out by non-Christian scholars, the literary progression of early Christianity looks like this:

Early creeds, hymns, and poems — AD 30–45
Paul’s seven undisputed letters — AD 48–61
The Gospels — AD 70–100

If you want to know what the first Christians believed about Jesus, you don’t start with the Gospels. And you don’t even start with Paul’s theological reflections. You start with the traditions he inherited, many of which he quotes within his letters.

One of the clearest examples is a passage in Philippians 2:6–11, widely regarded as a pre-Pauline hymn.

Philippians 2:6–11 (ESV)

Who, though he was in the form of God,
did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped,
but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant,
being born in the likeness of men.
And being found in human form,
he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death—even death on a cross.

Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name,
so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,
in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father.

Why This Passage Matters

The structure and elevated language of Philippians 2:6–11 mark it as distinct from Paul’s usual prose. Nearly all scholars agree—this is not original to Paul, but a hymn he quotes from early Christian worship.

Even Bart Ehrman, a leading atheist scholar, wrote:

“This passage appears to embody an early Christian hymn… possibly dating to the 40s CE, and so within a decade or so of Jesus’ death.”
— How Jesus Became God (2014)

The late Gerd Lüdemann, also an atheist and a critical historian, wrote:

“The passage is a pre-Pauline hymn which was composed within a few years of Jesus’ death.”
— The Resurrection of Jesus (1994)

This means that before Paul ever penned his letters, Christians were already worshiping Jesus as preexistent, divine, and exalted by God.

A Chiastic Structure Reveals Its Heart

This passage follows a literary form known as a chiasm—a mirror-like pattern often used in ancient literature to center the most important idea.

Chiastic Structure:

A – Divine Lord
“Being in the form of God… equality with God”
B – Loss of all recognition
“Did not consider equality with God something to exploit… emptied himself”
C – Common name
“Taking the form of a servant… born in human likeness”
D – Obedient to death
“He humbled himself… even death on a cross”
C′ – Highest name
“God gave him the name that is above every name”
B′ – Universal recognition
“Every knee will bow… every tongue confess”
A′ – Divine Lord
“Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father”

The centerpiece is Jesus’ obedient death, which leads to a universal recognition of his lordship—a direct quotation of Isaiah 45:23, where Yahweh declares:

“To me every knee shall bow, every tongue shall swear allegiance.”

Paul deliberately applies this to Jesus, affirming that the early Christians saw him as sharing in Yahweh’s divine identity.

Jesus Didn’t Cling to Divinity—He Chose Humility

The hymn says Jesus was in the form of God (morphē theou) and had equality with God. Greek philosopher Aristotle explained the word morphē like this:

“The form (morphē) means the essence or reality of a thing—what it truly is.”
— Metaphysics 1032b1–2

So Jesus didn’t become divine—he was divine and chose to let go of that divine privilege.

Paul uses the word harpagmos, meaning “something to be seized or held onto.” Jesus didn’t need to seize equality with God—he already had it. And rather than cling to it, he let it go.

The Greek verbs “emptied himself” (ekenōsen) and “humbled himself” (etapeinōsen) are paired with the reflexive pronoun heauton (“himself”), showing that these were deliberate acts—Jesus chose to give himself.

Crucifixion: The Lowest Shame

Paul doesn’t merely say Jesus died—he highlights that it was “even death on a cross.” Crucifixion wasn’t just painful—it was socially degrading.

Seneca wrote:

“Can anyone be found willing to be fastened to the accursed tree… in long-drawn-out agony?”
— Dialogues 6.20.3

Cicero called crucifixion:

“A most cruel and disgusting punishment.”
— Against Verres 2.5.66

And again:

“The very word ‘cross’ should be far removed not only from the person of a Roman citizen but from his thoughts, his eyes, and his ears.”
— Pro Rabirio 16

That Jesus willingly chose such a death, according to the hymn, is the very reason he is exalted above all.

Jewish Parallels to Exalted Figures

Though the Christ Hymn is unique, early Jewish literature gives us conceptual background:

1 Enoch 48:2–5
“The Son of Man… was chosen and hidden… all who dwell on earth shall worship before him.”
1 Enoch 69:26–29
“The Son of Man… all the kings shall fall down and worship him.”
4Q246 (Dead Sea Scrolls)
“He shall be called the Son of God… all nations shall serve him.”
Philo
“The Logos is the image of God, by which the whole world was created.”
— On Dreams 1.239
“God made man according to the image of his own Logos.”
— Questions on Genesis 2.62

These aren’t Christian writings. They show that Jewish thinkers had already envisioned preexistent, divine-like agents who could be exalted and worshipped—yet none describe such a figure choosing to suffer like Philippians 2 does.

Final Thought: Not a Gradual Climb—A Bold Declaration

Even if we accept the consensus of non-Christian scholars, the Christ Hymn brings us closest to the earliest Christian beliefs.

Long before the Gospels were written, Christians believed Jesus:

Preexisted in divine form
Humbled himself in obedience
Was crucified in shame
And was exalted and worshipped as Lord

That’s not a slow myth in the making.

That’s the foundation of the faith—fully formed, right from the start.

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.