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

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.

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.