Conversion Forbidden, Courage Unstoppable: Severus and the Early Church

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.

Multiplying by Mission: Session 2 at Mission Lake

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

1. Review from Session 1

Last week we saw that even atheist and skeptical scholars agree on seven undisputed letters of Paul. These are the earliest Christian writings we possess, and they form the backbone of our historical knowledge of the first generation of the church. But that raises a crucial question: Can we be confident that the words we read in these letters today are the same words Paul actually wrote? Before we move forward in the Roman timeline, we need to look closely at how these letters were preserved.

2. Comparing Paul to Other Ancient Authors

When we compare the manuscript tradition of Paul’s letters with other works from antiquity, the results are striking:

AuthorWorkDate WrittenEarliest CopyTime Gap
JosephusJewish War75–79 AD9th century~800 years
TacitusAnnals~100 AD~850 AD~750 years
Pliny the YoungerLetters~100–112 AD~850 AD~750 years
SuetoniusLives of the Caesars~121 AD9th century~700–800 yrs
Paul the Apostle7 Undisputed Letters48–64 AD~175–200 AD (P46)~125–150 yrs

Historians accept Josephus, Tacitus, Pliny, and Suetonius without hesitation, despite enormous gaps between the originals and our earliest copies. Yet Paul’s letters — with the shortest gap of all — are often treated with suspicion. That double standard says more about modern skepticism than it does about the evidence.

3. What Manuscripts Do We Actually Have?

When we talk about manuscripts here, remember: we are focusing only on the seven undisputed letters of Paul (Romans, 1–2 Corinthians, Galatians, Philippians, 1 Thessalonians, Philemon). If we were counting the entire New Testament, the totals would be much larger.

Approximate counts by language for these seven letters:

  • 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.
    (By comparison, the entire New Testament is supported by over 5,800 Greek manuscripts, 10,000+ Latin, and another 10,000+ in other languages. But here our lens stays on the seven letters.)

Bart Ehrman, an agnostic scholar, concedes:

“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, p. 88)

The Earliest Manuscript: P46

Papyrus 46 (P46), dated AD 175–225, is one of the earliest and most important witnesses to the seven undisputed letters. Originally 104 leaves; 86 survive.

Contents include:

  • Romans 5:17–16:27 (Romans 1–5:16 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: likely in the missing final leaves
  • Also present: Hebrews, Ephesians, Colossians, 2 Thessalonians.

This shows that by around AD 200, less than 150 years after Paul’s death, his letters were already being circulated as a collection, copied and bound together.

Manuscripts Between 200 and 325 AD

Other papyri confirm copying before the great codices:

  • 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 show that Paul’s letters were copied across regions before Constantine.

The Great Codices (after 325 AD)

  • Codex Vaticanus (c. 325–350): Preserves nearly the whole NT. Missing are 1–2 Timothy, Titus, Philemon, part of Hebrews, Revelation. Most likely due to physical loss.
  • Codex Sinaiticus (c. 330–360): Contains all 7 undisputed letters.

Though copied in different regions, they strongly agree with earlier papyri like P46.

Earliest Translations

  • Old Latin: The Freisinger Fragment (VL 64, late 2nd or early 3rd c.) preserves Romans 15:3–13.
  • Coptic (Sahidic): Papyrus Bodmer XIX (early 3rd c.) preserves Romans 1:1–2:3; 3:21–4:8; 5:8–13; 6:1–19.
  • Syriac: By the early 4th c., Paul’s letters circulated in Syriac. Aphrahat (c. 280–345) quotes them; the Peshitta included them.

So within 200–300 years of Paul’s life, his letters were available in Greek, Latin, Coptic, and Syriac.

4. What About Textual Variants?

For the seven undisputed letters, scholars count 7,000–8,000 variants. If we included the NT as a whole, the number would be much higher.

Most are trivial.

“Most of the textual changes in our manuscripts are completely insignificant.” (Ehrman, Misquoting Jesus, 2005, p. 208)

Examples of insignificant variants:

  • Romans 12:11 — “Serve the Lord” vs. “Serve the Spirit.”
  • Galatians 1:3 — “God our Father” vs. “God the Father.”

The Five Most Significant Variants in the Undisputed Letters

1. Romans 8:1
Short: “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.”
Long: “… who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit.”
The longer phrase is almost certainly borrowed from verse 4 — a case of scribal harmonization. Either way, the chapter teaches both truths: freedom from condemnation and Spirit-led living.

2. 1 Thessalonians 2:7
“We were gentle among you” (ēpioi).
“We were like children among you” (nēpioi).
The difference hangs on a single Greek letter (eta vs. nu). Both readings make sense in context: Paul could be stressing either his gentleness or his childlike humility toward the Thessalonians.

3. Galatians 2:12
With the phrase: “… before certain men came from James…”
Without the phrase: “… before certain men came…”
Some manuscripts omit “from James,” likely to soften the perceived conflict between Paul and the Jerusalem leadership. The confrontation with Peter remains central in either reading.

4. 1 Corinthians 14:34–35
“Women should keep silent in the churches. For they are not permitted to speak, but should be in submission, as the Law also says. If there is anything they desire to learn, let them ask their husbands at home. For it is shameful for a woman to speak in church.”

  • In some manuscripts, these verses appear after verse 33.
  • In others, they are moved after verse 40.
  • In several, scribes marked the passage with symbols, signaling doubt about its original location.

This passage also creates tension with 1 Corinthians 11:5, where Paul assumes women are praying and prophesying aloud. Some scholars think the verses were originally a marginal note that later entered the text. Regardless, scribes preserved them — they did not erase what they weren’t sure about.

5. Romans 5:1
“We have peace with God…” (echomen, indicative).
“Let us have peace with God…” (echōmen, subjunctive).
A single vowel changes the sense from statement to exhortation. Both are ancient readings, and both are consistent with Paul’s theology — either declaring peace as a fact or urging believers to live in that peace.

Conclusion on Variants: Variants are real, but they are not a threat. None overturn Paul’s teaching. Our faith does not rest on the exact form of a single word — it rests on the total message Paul delivered about Christ. And that message comes through with clarity across the manuscript tradition.

5. Internal Evidence from Paul’s Own Letters

Even within the NT, Paul’s letters show awareness of being circulated and read widely:

  • 1 Corinthians 1:2 — “…with all those who in every place call on the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, both their Lord and ours.”
  • 2 Corinthians 1:1 — “…with all the saints who are in the whole of Achaia.”
  • Galatians 1:2 — “…to the churches of Galatia.”
  • 2 Corinthians 10:10 — “‘His letters are weighty and strong, but his bodily presence is weak, and his speech of no account.’”
    Even Paul’s opponents recognized his “letters” (plural) as influential.

But the most striking evidence comes from 2 Peter 3:15–16:

“And count the patience of our Lord as salvation, just as our beloved brother Paul also wrote to you according to the wisdom given him, as he does in all his letters when he speaks in them of these matters. There are some things in them that are hard to understand, which the ignorant and unstable twist to their own destruction, as they do the other Scriptures.”

This is extraordinary. The text not only names Paul directly, but refers to “all his letters” — a collection already known to the wider church — and explicitly places them alongside “the other Scriptures.”

The question then becomes: when was 2 Peter written?

  • If it is genuine (written by Peter before his martyrdom in AD 64), then Paul was still alive at the time, and his letters were already being gathered and treated as Scripture while he was still writing them. Notice the Greek verbs: Peter says Paul “wrote” (past tense) but also “he speaks” (present tense) in his letters, suggesting Paul was still actively writing. This would also imply that Peter himself, an Aramaic-speaking Jew, likely worked through a secretary (an amanuensis) to produce a polished Greek letter, as was common. Peter explicitly mentions Silvanus serving this role in 1 Peter 5:12. If Silvanus could serve for 1 Peter, then another amanuensis could easily explain the high-quality Greek of 2 Peter.
  • If it is not genuine but an early 2nd-century pseudepigraphon, it still proves that by that time Paul’s letters were being universally read and revered as Scripture. A forger could not have successfully passed off such a claim unless the churches already accepted Paul’s writings as Scripture and already knew them as a collection.

Either way, the conclusion is the same: 2 Peter 3:15–16 gives us decisive evidence that Paul’s letters were recognized as authoritative Scripture very early — whether during Paul’s own lifetime or within a generation after his death.

6. Early Christian Witness (95–180 AD)

Clement of Rome (c. 95 AD):

“Take up the epistle of the blessed Paul the Apostle. What did he write to you at the time when the Gospel first began to be preached? Truly, he wrote to you in the Spirit concerning himself, and Cephas, and Apollos, because even then you had formed parties.” (1 Clement 47)

Clement writes as if the Corinthians still physically possessed Paul’s letter — either the original or a faithful copy preserved in their church. His command to “take it up” makes no sense otherwise. Clement himself was also clearly familiar with the letter, meaning he too had access to a copy in Rome. Within one generation of Paul, his letters were present in multiple churches, available for reference and correction.

Ignatius of Antioch (c. 110 AD):

“You are associates in the mysteries with Paul, who was sanctified, who gained a good report, who is right blessed, in whose footsteps may I be found when I attain to God, who in every letter makes mention of you in Christ Jesus.” (To the Ephesians 12.2)

Ignatius assumes that the Ephesian Christians knew Paul’s letters well — they had them in their possession, whether in original form or in copies kept in the church. Ignatius himself had also read them, since he confidently appeals to “every letter” Paul wrote. This shows that by the early 2nd century Paul’s writings were already circulating widely and were accessible to multiple communities at the same time.

Polycarp of Smyrna (c. 110–140 AD):

“And when he was absent, he wrote you letters, which, if you study them, you will be able to build yourselves up in the faith that has been given you.” (To the Philippians 3.2)

Polycarp presumes that the Philippians still had Paul’s letters in their possession — originals or faithful copies carefully preserved in the church. And Polycarp himself had clearly read them too, since he urges them to “study” what he also knew. The fact that he treats these writings as ongoing sources of instruction shows they were viewed not as temporary notes but as enduring Scripture.

Theophilus of Antioch (c. 180 AD):

“And in another place, Paul says: ‘If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord, and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you shall be saved.’” (To Autolycus 3.14, citing Romans 10:9)

Theophilus directly cites Paul’s words and calls them Scripture. This shows that by the late 2nd century Paul’s letters were not only preserved but already recognized as carrying the authority of the Word of God.

Irenaeus of Lyons (c. 180 AD):

“And Paul, too, says: ‘There is one God, the Father, who is above all, and through all, and in us all.’ And again, ‘There is one Lord Jesus Christ, by whom are all things, and we by Him.’” (Against Heresies 3.12.12, citing 1 Corinthians 8:6)

Across Against Heresies, Irenaeus cites all seven undisputed Pauline letters — Romans, 1–2 Corinthians, Galatians, Philippians, 1 Thessalonians, and Philemon. He names Paul explicitly, weaving his words into theological arguments, treating them as binding Scripture. Irenaeus knew them; the churches he wrote to knew them; and he expected his readers to recognize the authority of Paul’s letters immediately.

7. Reconstructing Paul’s Letters from Quotations

Between Clement of Rome (c. 95 AD) and Irenaeus of Lyons (c. 180 AD), every one of Paul’s seven undisputed letters is quoted or referenced. Even if all manuscripts had been lost, the content of Paul’s letters could still be reconstructed from these citations.

It is true that the Fathers sometimes paraphrased or quoted from memory, so not every line would be preserved word-for-word. But the essential message, theology, and teaching of Paul is fully present.

Bart Ehrman’s central challenge is this: since our earliest manuscript of Paul’s letters (P46) comes from around AD 175–225, how can we know the text was copied accurately in the first 100–150 years?

Ehrman himself concedes the point this way:

“Strictly speaking we can never know anything like this with 100% certainty. … we can’t know with absolute complete certainty what was said in each and every passage of the NT. … But that doesn’t mean that we cannot know with relative certainty what is said in most parts of the New Testament.” (The Accuracy of Paul’s Letter to the Galatians, ehrmanblog.org)

We agree: we cannot have mathematical certainty. We do not have the originals. There were surely variants in the earliest copies, maybe even more than in later ones. But the evidence we do have shows the same pattern century after century: variants exist, but they rarely affect meaning, and none change the core of Paul’s message.

And the positive case is strong:

  • The time gap between Paul’s writing and our earliest surviving copies is remarkably short compared to other ancient works that historians accept without hesitation.
  • The number of manuscripts is massive and unparalleled, giving us a wide base of comparison.
  • The variants that do appear rarely affect meaning, and none overturn any core doctrine of the Christian faith.
  • The writings of the Church Fathers confirm stability, since every one of Paul’s letters is quoted by the end of the 2nd century, providing an independent line of evidence alongside the manuscripts.
  • Most importantly, there is no plausible way the text could have been altered wholesale. By the end of the 2nd century, Paul’s letters had been copied and carried across the Roman world — from Rome to Corinth, from Antioch to Alexandria, from Asia Minor to North Africa. They were quoted in Greek, translated into Latin, Coptic, and Syriac, and cited by leaders as far apart as Clement in Rome, Ignatius in Syria, and Irenaeus in Gaul. To change Paul’s words in any significant way, someone would have had to gather up every copy, alter them in exactly the same fashion, and redistribute them across dozens of cities and multiple languages — without leaving any trace of disagreement. That never happened. The geographic spread of manuscripts and quotations itself is evidence of the stability of the text.

Taken together, this evidence shows that what we read in Paul’s letters today is the same message the earliest Christians received, studied, and preserved as Scripture.

8. Canon Lists and Heretical Canons

The Muratorian Fragment (c. 170–200 AD)

“As to the epistles of Paul, they themselves make clear to those desiring to understand which ones they are. First of all, he wrote to the Corinthians, addressing them in two letters. Then to the Ephesians, to the Philippians, to the Colossians, to the Galatians, to the Thessalonians — twice, and to the Romans. It is plain that he wrote these letters for the sake of instruction. There is yet another addressed to Philemon, one to Titus, and two to Timothy in affection and love. These are held sacred in the esteem of the Church and form part of the universal Church’s discipline and teaching.” (Muratorian Canon, lines 47–59)

The Muratorian list is the earliest surviving canon catalog. It carefully names nearly every Pauline letter — including all seven undisputed ones — and defends them as “sacred” and as part of the “universal Church’s discipline.” By around AD 180, Paul’s letters were not only being read but were already being formally recognized and defended as Scripture.

Marcion’s Canon (c. 140 AD)

Marcion, a heretic who rejected the Old Testament and much of Christianity, still accepted Paul as the true apostle. His canon included ten Pauline letters.

Ehrman comments:

“Marcion’s canon shows that the letters of Paul were already being collected and circulated as a group by the early second century.” (Lost Christianities, 2003, p. 104)

Even heresy confirms Paul’s letters were a recognized collection.

9. John’s Long Life

Irenaeus testifies that John lived until the reign of Trajan (Against Heresies 3.1.1). If John was a young man when he followed Jesus, he could have lived well into his 80s or 90s — stretching the apostolic witness into the closing years of the 1st century and the dawn of the 2nd.

Richard Bauckham notes:

“The Beloved Disciple… may well have been quite young during Jesus’ ministry. This possibility makes good sense of the tradition that he lived to extreme old age.” (Jesus and the Eyewitnesses, 2006, p. 390)

Even Bart Ehrman acknowledges:

“It is certainly possible—indeed plausible—that John was very young when he followed Jesus, which would help explain the later traditions about his longevity.” (How Jesus Became God, 2014, p. 124)

John’s long life bridged the gap between the first generation of apostles and the church of the 2nd century, anchoring the transmission of apostolic teaching.

10. Conclusion to Part 1

By the end of the 2nd century, Paul’s letters were:

  • Collected together in manuscripts like P46.
  • Quoted extensively by church leaders across the empire.
  • Preserved faithfully despite persecution.
  • Formally recognized in canon lists.
  • Respected even by heretics who tried to twist them.

The earliest Christians treated Paul’s writings not as casual correspondence but as sacred Scripture. They copied them carefully, spread them across the empire, quoted them as authoritative, and defended them in the face of challenges.

We do not have the originals. We cannot claim 100% certainty on every word. But the evidence — manuscripts, variants, patristic quotations, canon lists, and the geographic spread of witnesses — gives us extraordinary confidence that the letters we read today are the same message the earliest Christians received and preserved: the gospel of Christ through His apostle Paul.


Julius Caesar and the Jews

Now that we have seen why we can trust the preservation of Paul’s letters, we can step back into the wider Roman world where Christianity was born. To understand the setting of Jesus’ life and the early church, we begin with Julius Caesar and the unique place of the Jewish people in the empire.

1. Jewish Support for Julius Caesar (47–44 BC)

The Jews were not a marginal group in Caesar’s world — they were a significant presence across the Mediterranean, and their loyalty mattered.

During Caesar’s campaign in Egypt around 47 BC, Antipater, the father of Herod the Great, brought 3,000 Jewish troops to aid him:

“When Caesar had settled the affairs of Syria, he made his expedition against Egypt… Antipater brought three thousand armed men, partly Jews and partly foreigners. This force was very helpful to Caesar.” (Antiquities 14.8.1 §190)

Not long after, during Caesar’s campaign in Asia against Parthian-aligned forces, another 3,000 Jews under Hyrcanus II, the high priest, rallied to his side:

“The Jews in Asia also came to his assistance, being about three thousand armed men, and joined themselves to him. They did this, not only out of the goodwill they bore him, but also by the command of Hyrcanus the high priest, who at that time was in great friendship with Caesar.” (Antiquities 14.10.22 §295)

And when Caesar was assassinated in 44 BC, the Jews demonstrated their devotion in a way that astonished Roman observers:

“The Jews also mourned for him, and they even crowded about his house for many nights together bewailing their loss.” (Antiquities 14.10.1 §213)

The picture is consistent: the Jews fought for Caesar in Egypt, aided him in Asia against the Parthian threat, and grieved deeply at his assassination. Caesar, in turn, rewarded them richly and secured their privileges in the empire.

2. Size of the Jewish Population (1st century BC–1st century AD)

Why did Caesar value Jewish loyalty so highly? Quite simply, because the Jews were numerous, organized, and strategically placed across the empire.

Josephus emphasizes their strength in Rome itself:

“As for the Jews, they had already increased in numbers so greatly that it would have been hard to expel them from the city.” (Antiquities 14.7.2 §110)

Elsewhere, he insists their influence stretched across the entire Mediterranean world:

“There is not any city of the Grecians, nor any of the barbarians, nor any nation whatsoever, whither our custom of resting on the seventh day hath not come, and by which our fasts and lighting up lamps, and many of our prohibitions as to our food, are not observed.” (Against Apion 2.39 §282)

Philo of Alexandria, writing just after the time of Jesus, painted the same picture of their global dispersion:

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

By the 1st century AD, Jews made up an estimated 7–10% of the Roman Empire — millions of people. Their largest concentrations were along the eastern frontier near Parthia, Rome’s greatest military rival. For Caesar, Jewish loyalty meant not just local support in Judea, but stability along the empire’s most contested border.

3. Caesar’s Decrees in Favor of the Jews (47–44 BC)

Julius Caesar did not merely thank the Jews with kind words; he issued a series of formal decrees guaranteeing their freedoms across the empire. Josephus preserves several of them in Antiquities 14, showing just how far Caesar was willing to go to secure Jewish loyalty.

Sabbath protection:

“It is not permitted to bring them before the tribunals on the Sabbath day, nor to require them to bear arms or to march, or to labor, on the Sabbath day.” (Antiquities 14.10.6 §213)

Right of assembly:

“They shall be permitted to assemble together according to their ancestral laws and ordinances, and to do so unhindered.” (Antiquities 14.10.8 §216)

Exemption from temple tribute taxes:

“They shall not be required to pay taxes on the sacred money which they send to Jerusalem, nor on their sacred offerings.” (Antiquities 14.10.8 §§213–216)

Provincial enforcement: Caesar repeated these protections in letters to governors in Asia Minor and Cyrene, instructing them to allow the Jews “to observe their own laws, and to enjoy the sacred money they collect for Jerusalem.” (Antiquities 14.10.8 §§223–225; 14.10.10 §235)

Taken together, these decrees amounted to a charter of Jewish privilege under Rome. Judaism was legally recognized, protected from interference, and granted rights unmatched by most other groups in the empire.

This made Judaism unique: an ancient religion formally safeguarded by Caesar’s laws. But it also created a problem for the future — because once Christianity emerged, the question would become: Does this new movement share in Jewish protections, or is it something new and therefore illegal?

4. Rome’s Respect for Ancient Religions

Why was Rome willing to tolerate the Jews? The answer lies in how Romans thought about religion. They admired what was old and distrusted what was new.

Pliny the Elder wrote in the 1st century AD:

“What is ancient is more holy; what is new is suspect.” (Natural History 28.3)

Tacitus, writing around 100 AD, echoed:

“Whatever their origin, the antiquity of their rites gives them credit.” (Histories 5.5)

Judaism, with its ancient laws and Scriptures, commanded a respect that protected it. Christianity, however, was seen as new — and therefore dangerous. Already, the seeds of conflict were planted.

5. Augustus: The Divine Son (27 BC–AD 14)

After Caesar’s assassination, his adopted son Octavian rose to power as Caesar Augustus. He carried his father’s legacy further, presenting himself as divine.

Suetonius records:

“He added the title ‘Son of a God’ to his name.” (Divus Augustus 94.1)

Augustus himself, in his Res Gestae (completed AD 14), boasts:

“After my death… the Senate decreed that my name should be included in the hymns of the Salii and be consecrated as a god.” (§35)

And the Priene Inscription (9 BC) celebrated him in language that should sound familiar to Christians:

“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.” (OGIS 458)

Mark’s Gospel begins deliberately:

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

This was not just theology. It was a direct counter-claim to Rome’s imperial ideology.

6. Herod the Great and Mass Cruelties (37–4 BC)

Into this Roman world of Caesar’s decrees and Augustus’s divine claims came Herod the Great, Rome’s client king in Judea. He ruled from 37 BC until his death in 4 BC.

Josephus paints Herod as a man driven by paranoia and ruthless violence:

“His whole life was a continual scene of bloodshed; even his own sons were not spared.” (Antiquities 17.6.5 §§191–192)

“He gave orders to kill a great number of the most illustrious men of the whole Jewish nation.” (Antiquities 17.6.5 §204)

Among Herod’s victims was Hyrcanus II, the very same high priest who had once supported Julius Caesar and had brought troops to his aid. The execution of Caesar’s old ally showed that loyalty to Rome did not guarantee survival under a client king’s suspicion.

It is in this context that Matthew records Herod’s order to slaughter the infants in Bethlehem:

“Then Herod, when he saw that he had been tricked by the wise men, became furious, and he sent and killed all the male children in Bethlehem and in all that region who were two years old or under, according to the time that he had ascertained from the wise men.” (Matthew 2:16)

Some modern critics question this account because Josephus does not mention it. But considering what Josephus does report — the executions of Herod’s own sons, the planned massacre of Jerusalem’s leaders, and his general record of bloodshed — the killing of children in a small village is tragically consistent with his character. For Josephus, who focused on political and military events, such an atrocity may not have been considered significant enough to record. For Matthew, it carried theological and prophetic weight.

This also helps us with the dating of Jesus’ birth. Since Herod died in 4 BC, and Matthew describes Jesus as up to two years old at the time of the slaughter, most historians conclude that Jesus was born around 6 BC.

When Herod died, Judea erupted in revolt. The Roman governor Publius Quinctilius Varus marched swiftly from Syria to suppress it. His response was brutal:

“Varus… crucified about two thousand of those that had been the authors of the revolt.” (Jewish War 2.5.2 §75)

The roads around Jerusalem lined with crosses, the infants of Bethlehem slaughtered at a king’s command — these were the realities of the world into which Jesus was born.

7. The Census and Judas the Galilean (AD 6)

In AD 6, Rome removed Archelaus, Herod’s son, and made Judea a Roman province under direct rule. A census for taxation was ordered.

Josephus says:

“Coponius, a man of the equestrian order, was sent by Caesar to govern the Jews, and he had the power of life and death put into his hands by Caesar.” (Antiquities 18.1.1 §2)

A Galilean named Judas stirred rebellion:

“Judas of Galilee… said that this taxation was nothing less than slavery, and exhorted the nation to assert their liberty.” (Antiquities 18.1.6 §4)

Josephus describes their conviction:

“They say that God alone is their ruler and lord… and they do not value dying any more than living.” (Jewish War 2.8.1 §§117–118)

And he marks this moment as the beginning of a movement that would plague Rome for decades:

“This was the beginning of great disturbances.” (Antiquities 18.1.8 §27)

Jesus was about 12 years old at this time. He grew up in Galilee, the very region where Judas had raised his banner of revolt, and where memories of Rome’s response — arrests, crucifixions, suppression — were seared into the minds of families.

8. Rome Never Forgets (AD 46–48)

Rome did not forgive rebellion quickly. Even decades later, the family of Judas was hunted down. During the procuratorship of Tiberius Alexander (AD 46–48), two of Judas’s sons were captured:

“Two of his sons, James and Simon, were taken and crucified.” (Antiquities 20.5.2 §102)

This shows Rome’s long memory. Not only rebels, but their families were targeted. Even after Jesus’ crucifixion, Judas’s line was still being crucified.

9. Other Revolts, Other Crosses (1st century AD)

It is important to remember that Judea was not the only province to resist taxation. Tacitus records that in AD 21, the Gauls protested a census:

“The Gauls… declared they were being reduced to slavery under the guise of a census and taxation.” (Annals 3.40)

And in AD 60–61, the Britons under Boudica rose up violently against Rome’s abuses and tribute demands:

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

But there was a difference. For Gauls and Britons, taxation was political slavery. For Jews, taxation was also a theological affront. To pay tribute to Caesar was to confess him as lord, something only God could be. That is why resistance in Judea carried such intensity — it was not just about politics, but about worship.

10. Conclusion to Part 2

From Caesar’s decrees to Augustus’s divine titles, from Herod’s paranoia to Varus’s mass crucifixions, from Judas the Galilean’s revolt to Rome’s relentless vengeance, the Jewish world into which Jesus was born was dominated by imperial propaganda, oppressive taxation, and violent suppression.

The first Christians grew up in this environment. They knew what Rome demanded: loyalty, taxes, sacrifice, even worship. They also knew what Rome did to those who resisted: crosses by the thousands.

So when they proclaimed Jesus as Lord and Savior, they were not speaking safe religious words. They were directly challenging the claims of Caesar himself.

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

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:

  1. It contains the earliest known Christian use of the word “Trinity.”
  2. 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.