gnostic-gospels

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

/ 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.