St. Polycarp
By Rand York+
“Knowing then
that God is not mocked,
we ought to walk
worthily of His commandment and His glory.”
(St. Polycarp to the church in Philippi, ¶5)
St. Polycarp was the bishop of
Smyrna and was martyred most probably in 155 or 156 AD. But he was much more
than a bishop and a martyr. Polycarp’s life was the final extension of the
Sub-Apostolic Age, and with his death came the close of that age. After the
death of Polycarp, it was no longer possible to hear directly from a student of
an Apostle. Polycarp’s memory was filled with the teachings and the stories
told to him by the Apostle John, and he related those teachings and stories to
his flock in Smyrna. One of the most entertaining accounts of John in
Polycarp’s recollections is of a time when John “went to take a bath in
Ephesus, and saw Cerinthus within, rushed away from the room without bathing,
with the words, ‘Let us flee lest the room should fall in, for Cerinthus, the
enemy of the truth, is within!”[1]
Such stories would sink deep into the hearts of the Christians in Smyrna. When
they lost Polycarp, they lost their last eyewitness connection to John, who
most probably installed Polycarp in his episcopal office. Because of the
advanced years of both John and then Polycarp, the Sub-Apostolic Age lasted far
longer in Asia than it did in Europe, where it most likely ended with the death
of St. Clement of Rome late in the first century.[2]
Polycarp’s bishopric also did much
to establish the importance of apostolic succession in the church, a decisive
tool in combating heresy, especially Gnosticism. New Advent notes, “To whom,
demands St. Irenaeus, would the Apostles be more likely to commit hidden
mysteries than to the bishops to whom they entrusted their churches?”[3]
Helmut Koester sees Polycarp without question as, “the most significant
ecclesiastical leader of the first half of II C.E.”[4]
St.
Irenaeus on Polycarp
Polycarp’s disciple, St. Irenaeus of
Lyons, tells us that God was so in love with humanity that His original plan,
regardless of the Fall, was to become human. It was not the Fall of mankind
that somehow forced God to alter His original plan by incorporating incarnation
into it. Rather, He had always intended to become human, and mankind’s need for
redemption worked completely into that original plan.[5]
This teaching likely came from Irenaeus’s teacher, Polycarp, and so the church
in Smyrna is quite likely to have receive this same teaching, understanding
their Lord to be a God of love desiring to be intimately involved with every
aspect of their lives. As Polycarp’s teacher, John left his mark on Smyrna, and
as “the disciple whom Jesus loved” (John 21:7), he understood his Lord to be
the lover of souls. Charles Wesley’s
Jesus Lover of My Soul or Terry Butler’s Deep Deep Love would have been wonderfully appropriate and
expressive songs of worship for the Christians of Smyrna. Here was a church closely
bound to each other and to the Lord.
Through Irenaeus, we get a few
glimpses into the life of Polycarp and his influence as a bishop, preserved in
part by Eusebius. In one entry, we find that Pope Victor of Rome, in an attempt
to fix the date of Easter to be the same throughout the church, managed to
excommunicate the churches of Asia soley because of their adherence to the
celebration of Easter on the 14th of Nisan, regardless of the day of
the week. Evidently, this was a major issue for Rome long before the Synod of
Whitby! Irenaeus took issue with Victor’s rather extreme behavior by writing
him a letter contrasting his actions
with those of his predecessor, Pope Anicetus, who welcomed Polycarp to Rome and
recognized his ministry as the bishop of Smyrna, in spite of their disagreement
regarding the date of Easter. Anicetur and Polycarp both saw the issue as one
of a diaphora, and so did Irenaeus:
“And when the
blessed Polycarp was at Rome in the time of Anicetur, and they disagreed a
little about other things, they immediately made peace with one another, not
caring to quarrel over this matter. For neither would Anicetus persuade
Polycarp… nor Polycarp Anicetus… But though matters were in this shape, they
communed together, and Anicetus conceded the administration of the Eucharist in
the Church to Polycarp, manifestly as a mark of respect. And they parted from
each other in peace.”[6]
The aforementioned is by no means
the only example of Polycarp’s post-humous influence as a bishop. Irenaeus also
writes to Florinus, a heretical presbyter of the Roman church, appealing to
their mutual memories of Polycarp:
“These opinions…
Florinus are not of sound judgment… I saw thee when I was still a boy in Lower
Asia in company with Polycarp, while thou wast faring prosperously in the royal
court, and endeavoring to stand well with him. For I distinctly remember the
incidents of that time better than the events of recent occurrence… I can
describe the very place in which the Blessed Polycarp used to sit when he
discoursed… his personal appearance… and how he would describe his intercourse
with John and with the rest who had seen the Lord, and how he would relate
their words… I can testify in the sight of God that if the blessed and
apostolic elder had heard anything of this kind, he would have cried out, and
stopped his ears, and cried out after his wont, “O good God, for what times
hast thou kept me that I should endure such things?’… This can be shown from
the letters which he wrote to the neighboring churches for their confirmation.”[7]
Smyrna
& Persecution
While Polycarp’s influence extended
throughout Asia-minor and beyond, his primary work was as a pastor to his
church in Smyrna. Located on the west coast of Asia Minor, Smyrna (modern day
Izmir in Turkey) was perfectly situated to align with Rome in an attempt to
offset the naval power of Rhodes. Rome wanted to expand eastward, and Smyrna
wanted to be on the winning side. It was a perfect match. Smyrna’s crucial
service to Rome earned her the right to build a temple to Tiberius and to
become the Asian seat of emperor worship. There were eleven applicants for this
honor in the first century, and Smyrna came out on top. In short, in the realm
of religion (and therefore of politics) Smyrna became the Rome of the East.[8] As
such, Smyrna also became the most difficult city in the empire, outside of Rome
itself, in which to be a Christian.
Persecution was never constant in the
Roman Empire, as each emperor set his own policy, and most preferred to leave
well enough alone and preserve Pax Romana.
Still, persecution did break out, and when it did the churches in Rome and
Smyrna were often likely to be on the front lines. There was a very hostile
Jewish synagogue in Smyrna, referenced by John in Revelation 2:9, that was no
doubt quite happy to do some finger pointing at the Christians there, in order
to ingratiate themselves with the Romans and to hurt the church.
How Christianity came to Smyrna is not
clear, but Smyrna is quite close to Ephesus where St. Paul spread the Gospel,
and John is also known to have been active in the area. So the church in Smyrna
could well have been a result of Paul’s initial work sealed by John. However it
came about, the seed took root and dug deep. Smyrna was one of the most solid
churches in Asia, and that solidity carried through for more than a thousand
years, as Smyrna was one of the last bastions of the Byzantine Empire to fall
to the Moslems.[9]
That kind of strength reflects a strong foundation, a foundation laid by Paul,
John, and Polycarp.
As the bishop of Smyrna, Polycarp had
the privilege of hosting St. Ignatius when he stopped in Smyrna on his way to
martyrdom in Rome. Of the seven extant genuine epistles of Ignatius, four were
written while he was Polycarp’s guest, two contain references to Polycarp
(Ephesians and Magnesians), and one Ignatian letter was written directly to Polycarp. This visit of Ignatius to
Smyrna occurred some forty or more years before Polycarp’s own martyrdom. It is
noteworthy that Ignatius, like his mentor Paul, aggressively sought out Rome as
a final venue for his ministry and martyrdom. Polycarp likewise followed the
example of his mentor John, and
eschewed seeking martyrdom, or even the limelight. Polycarp was not in the
least afraid to die for Christ; he just did not seek it out, but rather was in
love with pastoring his flock in Smyrna and doing what he could in those early
years of Christianity to establish Apostolic tradition. The letter he received
from Ignatius included some deeply insightful pastoral advice: “Every wound is
not healed with the same plaster: if the accessions of the disease be vehement,
mollify them with soft remedies: be in all things, ‘wise as a serpent, but
harmless as a dove.’”[10]
In 111-113 AD, Pliny the Younger was the
governor of Pontus/Bithynia, and he communicated with his superior in Rome, the
emperor Trajan, on many matters that came before him.[11]
Pliny’s request for advice on how to deal with Christians, and Trajan’s reply,
offer not only a fascinating view of the early Christians from a contemporary
outside perspective, but also set in place an imperial policy regarding
Christians that remained the law of the empire until well into the third
century,[12]
and thus was the law of the land at the time of Polycarp’s martyrdom. In his
request, Pliny related how he had dealt with Christians up to that point,
noting that he interrogated anyone denounced to him as a Christian, giving them
three chances to repent of it, and then executing those who persisted: “For…
stubbornness and inflexible obstinacy surely deserve to be punished.” Any of
these “obstinate” Christians who were also Roman citizens, he shipped off to
Rome to be tried, as was their right of appeal. The more Christians he tried,
the more accusations came, until the problem became too large for him to handle
without some imperial direction. Trajan’s response is worth quoting here in its
entirety, as official Roman policy during the post-Apostolic years of the early
church:
“You observed
proper procedure, my dear Pliny, in sifting the cases of those who had been
denounced to you as Christians. For it is not possible to lay down any general
rule to serve as a kind of fixed standard. They are not to be sought out; it
they are denounced and proved guilty, they are to be punished, with this
reservation, that whoever denies that he is a Christian and really proves it –
that is, by worshiping our gods – even though he was under suspicion in the
past, shall obtain pardon through repentance. But anonymously posted
accusations ought to have no place in any prosecution. For this is both a
dangerous kind of precedent and out of keeping with the spirit of our age.”[13]
It is often said that adversity can
bring out the best or the worst in people. In the case of the church in Smyrna,
it seems to have brought out the best. It is notable that in the letters to the
seven churches in the book of Revelation, the Lord does not have any corrective
words for that church:
“And to the angel of
the church in Smyrna write: ‘The words of the first and the last, who died and
came to life. “‘I know your tribulation and your poverty (but you
are rich) and the slander of those who say that they are Jews and are not, but
are a synagogue of Satan. Do not fear what you are about
to suffer. Behold, the devil is about to throw some of you into prison, that you
may be tested, and for ten days you will have tribulation. Be faithful unto
death, and I will give you the crown of life. He who has
an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches. The one who conquers
will not be hurt by the second death.’ (Revelation 2:8-11)
Philadelphia was the only other
church in that neighborhood of west Asia not to receive any upbraiding or
correction, but only help and encouragement through God’s Revelation to John
(whom this author believes to be the Apostle John, rather than John of
Ephesus).[14]
Martyrdom
It is perhaps ironic that, given
Polycarp’s long life and ministry, his most memorable contribution is his
martyrdom, detailed in a letter the Smyrnæan church sent to the Christians in
Philomelium, with the intention that it be copied and forwarded to Christians
throughout the world. That these copies were indeed made and sent on is evident
by the well-informed references to the martyrdom by many, including Lucian’s
account of Peregrinus Proteus (165 AD) and the Letter of the Gallician Churches
(177 AD).[15]
In their account of the martyrdom of
their bishop and others from their congregation, the Smyrnæans were quite
graphic in their description of the tortures by whippings, wild beasts, and
fire, to which the convicted Christians were sentenced in the public arena. The
bravery and peace with which the Christians faced their martyrdoms both awed
and frustrated the crowd, riling them still further into a loud demand for
Polycarp himself to be found and brought to the arena. Polycarp unwillingly
left Smyrna and went into hiding in the countryside only after his church
persuaded him to do so. At the first farm where he stayed, he was given a
vision of his pillow on fire, which he understood to mean that he was to be burned
alive. Polycarp escaped to a second farm shortly before the authorities closed
in on the first one. They did, however, capture and torture two slave boys for
information regarding Polycarp’s whereabouts. One of the boys confessed,
allowing the police finally to zero in on their target. Rather than run any
more, Polycarp declared his capture to be God’s will, and invited the police to
a meal. They granted him an hour to pray, and after two hours of listening to
Polycarp’s prayers, many of their hearts were moved to the point that they
became genuinely sorry they had come for him.
They brought Polycarp back to the
city and were met there by the captain of police, Herod, and his father,
Nicetus. These two took Polycarp into their carriage and tried to persuade him
to save himself by offering incense to Caesar as Lord. When he refused, they
shoved him out of the carriage so hard that he bruised his shin. Nonetheless,
the aged Polycarp walked resolutely all the way to the stadium where he was
brought before the proconsul, who also attempted to persuade him. In only one
request did they get any cooperation from Polycarp, and that when they asked
him to say, “Away with the atheists.” This he promptly did, waving his hand to
the crowd, indicating that they, not the Christians, were the true atheists.
When told to revile Christ, he responded that he had served Jesus for
eighty-six years and would not turn his back on him now. When offered a chance
to convince the crowd, Polycarp disdainfully refused, holding them in contempt
as unworthy of discourse. When threatened with wild beasts, he challenged the
proconsul to bring them on, because he would never reject righteousness in
favor of evil. When threatened with fire, Polycarp noted that such a fire would
burn only a little while, but told the proconsul of an eternal fire awaiting
the ungodly. Out of options, the proconsul ordered the herald to announce to
the crowd three times: “Polycarp hath confessed himself to be a Christian.”
Upon hearing it, the stadium was in an uproar, with the crowd shouting that
Polycarp was, “the teacher of Asia, the father of the Christians, the puller
down of our gods” (Smyrnæans 12:2). They demanded a lion be released to devour
Polycarp, but the Asiarch Philip quickly removed himself from any involvement
by claiming that it was unlawful to do so since he had already closed the
games. At this, the crowd screamed as one that he should be burned alive, and
so Polycarp’s vision was fulfilled.
The crowd went about collecting the
wood for the fire themselves, “the Jews more especially assisting in this with
zeal, as is their wont” (Smyrnæans 13:1). When all was ready, Polycarp stripped
himself from the waist up, and loosened his girdle. He had trouble taking his
shoes off, because he was unsure of just how they worked. It had been decades
since Polycarp had put on his own shoes or taken them off, since so many people
had vied for the chance to do it over the years. He was respected and loved for
his pure heart and holy life, and this had been a way to show it. He told the
authorities he would not need to be nailed to the stake, because God would give
him the ability to stay there unmoved, and so they tied him instead. After
Polycarp prayed a final prayer, the fire was lit:
“The fire, making the appearance of a vault, like the
sail of a vessel filled by the wind, made a wall round about the body of the
martyr; and it was there in the midst, not like flesh burning, but like [a loaf
in the oven or like] gold and silver refined in a furnace. For we perceived
such a fragrant smell, as if it were the wafted odor of frankincense or some
other precious spice. So at length the lawless men, seeing that his body could
not be consumed by the fire, ordered an executioner to go up to him and stab
him with a dagger. And when he had done this, there came forth [a dove and] a
quantity of blood, so that it extinguished the fire; and all the multitude
marvelled that there should be so great a difference between the unbelievers
and the elect.” (Smyrnæans 15:3 – 16:3).
“A dove and” was likely an addition
by pseudo-Pionius to the original Smyrnæan letter, but that is
not a reason to dismiss it. Pseudo-Pionius was likely engaging in the
time-honored tradition of leaving a story better than you found it. And what
better addition than this one which touches on the unseen real? If any physical
body was ever the temple of the Holy Spirit, it was that of St. Polycarp. When
his body was lanced, life was drained from it, both biological and spiritual.
The biological we see in the blood; the spiritual we see in the dove. The
blood, by the way, is quite believable to have been enough to quench the
remainder of the fire, as the fire must have burned low enough to allow the
executioner near enough to stab Polycarp.
Quintus
Smyrnæans
4 relates that a man named Quintus had recently arrived from Phyrgia.
Presumably this man was a Christian, since upon learning of the persecution
underway in Smyrna, he volunteered himself to face the Roman persecution and
persuaded others to do likewise. His follow-through, however, was not as
admirable as his original intention. It seems from the account that, following
his valiant and apparently heart-felt decision to join the Christians being
charged before the proconsul, Quintus was dissuaded from his original intention
by a combination of entreaties from the proconsul and the very real threat of a
painful and violent death from the jaws (and claws) of the wild beasts ready to
tear him and his associates apart for the sport of it in order to entertain the
crowd. While we do not know the fate of his compatriots, we do know that
Quintus himself yielded to the urging of the proconsul “to swear the oath and
to offer incense.” This experience, in addition to Polycarp’s own original
flight from the authorities, quite naturally led the Christians of Smyrna to
see martyrdom as something to which God calls Christians, and not something to
which Christians call themselves: “For this cause therefore, brethren, we
praise not those who deliver themselves up, since the Gospel doth not so teach
us” (Smyrnæans 4:4). Such a reaction is quite understandable given the
circumstances. Quintus betrayed Christ, but then so did St. Peter, and through
our sin do we all do the same. Certainly such betrayal is not praiseworthy (in
fact, it is damnable), as the Smyrnæans properly note, but what of those
voluntary martyrs who did indeed see it through and laid down their lives? Such
a blanket rejection as is given by the church in Smyrna is most unfair to those
voluntary martyrs who were “faithful unto death” (Revelation 2:10). And what
also of those who did not volunteer, but were sought out and charged by the
Roman authorities, and yet their courage failed them in the end? No, the evil
is to be found in the apostasy, not in the volunteering. Indeed, there were
other churches who disagreed with the Smyrnæans on this point, base on their
own experiences.[16]
Still, it is reasonable to leave the call to martyrdom to God and so to the
authorities he has set in place, rather than to the zealous and rash, though
well-meant, desires of his chosen ones to die for him.
Pionian
Legend
Before
leaving the historical section of this study, the “Pionian Legend” should be
addressed. There is a short biography of Polycarp that can be traced back at
least to the fourth century, and authored by a certain Pionius. This Pionius
managed to include in his story absolutely nothing that corresponds to any
authentic tradition regarding Polycarp, and Lightfoot esteems it to be, “a huge
heap of falsehood.”[17]
It is unclear if it was penned by the same pseudo-Pionius who copied and likely
embellished the Martyrdom of Polycarp,
or if it might be a Smyrnæan presbyter named Pionius who suffered in the Decian
persecution.[18]
Regardless, there is no corroboration for it anywhere, and most scholars reject
it from consideration as authentic history.
Polycarp’s
Epistle to the Philippians
In
addition to what others wrote about him, it is possible also to glean somewhat
from Polycarp’s own epistle to the Philippians. Although it is not long, and
contains much that is already found in the New Testament, it is nonetheless a
window into the soul of the man. The authenticity of the epistle is virtually
unquestioned today, although there was a strong anti-episcopal challenge in
seventeenth century. The motive for such a challenge would seem to be unclear
since Polycarp, unlike Ignatius, lays no stress at all on the subject of the
episcopacy. Nevertheless, reservations regarding this epistle of Polycarp, as
well as those of Ignatius, have long since been put to rest.[19]
Eusebius
cites the assertion of Irenaeus that Polycarp was the author of numerous
epistles,[20]
and it is lamentable that the one to the church in Philippi is the only one to
have survived. It would be most interesting to see by comparison if this
epistle (likely a cover letter accompanying the letters of Ignatius which the
church in Philippi had requested) is representative of Polycarp’s writings.
This
particular letter is remarkably unoriginal and filled with quotations from the
New Testament, especially I Peter. It is revealing to compare this with the
letters of St. Ignatius, whose knowledge of the New Testament, according to
Lightfoot, “betrays itself in casual words and phrases, stray metaphors,
epigrammatic adaptations, and isolated coincidences of thought.”[21]
This difference between Polycarp and Ignatius should not be surprising, as
Polycarp appears to have been a student of the Apostles, particularly John,
while Ignatius seems to have been more a of a peer of the Apostles. Hence,
Polycarp would naturally be much more careful regarding the orthodoxy of his
phraseology than Ignatius would ever need to be.
Polycarp’s
letter to the Philippians may be, as suggested above, filled more with New
Testament teaching than with much original thought, but this could very well be
a result of Polycarp’s own humility shown in a personal desire that anything
written by him should point to God’s truth as revealed through others. It could
be because it was basically a cover letter. It could be because of his position
as a local pastor, and not a herald to the broader church. Whatever the reason,
he is likely to have been much freer in his oral instruction of his pupils and
his local flock in Smyrna.
Marcion
Polycarp’s teachings would not be
necessarily limited to first century New Testament considerations, but his
pastor’s heart would naturally lead him to address many issues contemporary to
his congregation, specifically including the second century heresy of Marcion.
Indeed, Polycarp’s disdain for Marcion and his teachings is best exemplified by
St. Jerome’s mention that Polycarp met Marcion on the street in Rome. When
Polycarp took no notice of him, Marcion said, “Do you not know me, Polycarp?”
To which Polycarp replied, “Yes, I know you to be the firstborn of Satan.”[22]
It
is in this anti-Marcion connection that a portion of Polycarp’s teaching may
indeed have been preserved by Irenaeus in book 4 of Against Heresies. Charles Hill makes a convincing argument that
Irenaeus in AH 4:27-32 is doing
exactly what he said he could do in his letter to Florinus: namely, recalling
from memory the teachings of Polycarp.[23]
If Hill and other recent scholars are right, then much more of Polycarp’s own
teaching is available than previously thought, and the personal recollection of
Irenaeus of those teachings takes on significant added value. One such
anti-Marcion teaching that is exceptionally insightful is found in AH 4:29:1: “It is one and the same Lord
who inflicts blindness on those who do not believe but set Him at naught (the
sun, His creature, has much the same effect on those who, because of some
infirmity of the eyes, cannot look upon its light), and bestows a fuller and
greater illumination of the mind on those who believe and follow Him.”[24]
Ad
Diognetum
Here
it should be mentioned that Hill also makes a less persuasive argument for
Polycarp’s authorship of the ad Diognetum,
as well. It is a letter, a version of which was discovered in a Constantinople
fish market among the packing papers in 1435, the original of which is thought
now to be dated most likely from 120-200, primarily because of the style of
Greek in which it was written. It is essentially a letter to a pagan named
Diognetus, who evidently was in some sort of official position. It begins with
an attack on paganism and Judaism, and then proceeds to contrast Christianity
favorably against them, focusing especially on the love of God. Andrea Gallandi
included it among his Apostolic Fathers in 1765.[25]
If indeed authored by Polycarp, its rejection of paganism and Judaism would
certainly reflect second-century Smyrna’s strong presence of both religions,
and its focus on God’s love would be much in accordance with Polycarp’s heart,
both as a pastor and as a disciple of John.
Conclusion
God
gave Polycarp a crucial role in the life and development of the early church,
and a long life with which to fulfill that calling. Bishop of the church in
“the Rome of the East” at a time when church and empire were just getting to
know each other in what would prove to be a volatile relationship, Polycarp
exemplified the love, patience, and perseverance that would eventually win an entire
civilization to the Christian faith.
©2013 Rand York
Bibliography
von
Balthasar, Hans Urs. The Scandal of the
Incarnation: Irenaeus Against the Heresies. San Francisco: Ignatius Press,
1981/1990.
Burton,
Edward. The Apostolic Fathers of the
Second Century. Edinburgh: John Grant, 1909.
Butler,
Alban. The Lives of the Fathers, Martyrs
and Other Principal Saints: St. Polycarp. D.&J. Sadlier & Company,
1864. http://www.cin.org/saints/polycarp.html
Gonzalez,
Justo L. The Story of Christianity: The
Early Church to the Dawn of the Reformation. San Francisco: Harper Collins,
1984.
Hill,
Charles E. From the Lost Teaching of
Polycarp. Tubingen, Germany: Mohr Siebeck, 2006.
Koester,
Helmut. Introduction to the New
Testament, volume 2, History and Literature of Early Christianity. Berlin:
De Gruyter, 1982.
Lightfoot,
J.B. & J.R. Harmer. The Apostolic
Fathers, one-volume edition. Berkeley, CA: Apocryphile Press, 1891/2004.
Lightfoot,
J.B. The Apostolic Fathers Clement,
Ignatius, and Polycarp, Part Two, Ignatius & Polycarp, Volume 1. Grand
Rapids: Baker Book House, 1890/1981.
New
Advent. Catholic Encyclopedia: St.
Polycarp. http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/12219b.htm , 1911/2003.
O’Donnell,
James J. Pliny and Trajan on the
Christians. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania, 2002. http://ccat.sas.upenn.edu/jod/texts/pliny.html
Radice,
Betty, ed. Early Christian Writings.
London: Penguin, 1968.
Richardson,
Cyril C., ed. Early Christian Fathers.
New York: Macmillan, 1970.
Tenney,
Merrill C. The Zondervan Pictorial
Encyclopedia of the Bible. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1976.
[1] New Advent. Catholic
Encyclopedia: St. Polycarp. http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/12219b.htm , 1911/2003.
[2] Ibid.
[3] Ibid.
[4]
Helmut Koester. Introduction to the New Testament, volume 2, History and Literature of
Early Christianity. (Berlin: De Gruyter, 1982) 308.
[5] Justo L. Gonzalez. The Story of Christianity: The Early Church to the Dawn of the
Reformation. (San Francisco: Harper Collins, 1984) 70.
[6] New Advent. Op. cit.
[7]
Alban
Butler. The Lives of the Fathers, Martyrs
and Other Principal Saints: St. Polycarp. D.&J. Sadlier & Company,
1864. http://www.cin.org/saints/polycarp.html
[8]
Merrill
C. Tenney. The Zondervan Pictorial
Encyclopedia of the Bible. (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1976) v. 5, p. 462.
[9] Ibid. 464.
[10] Edward Burton. The Apostolic Fathers of the Second Century.
(Edinburgh: John Grant, 1909) 117 (The Epistle of St. Ignatius to St. Polycarp
II:1).
[11] James J. O’Donnell. Pliny and Trajan on the Christians. (Philadelphia: University of
Pennsylvania, 2002). http://ccat.sas.upenn.edu/jod/texts/pliny.html
[12]
Gonzolez. Op. cit. 41.
[13]
O’Donnell. Op. cit.
[14]
Gonzolez. Op. cit. 29.
[15] J.B. Lightfoot & J.R. Harmer. The Apostolic Fathers, one-volume edition. (Berkeley, CA:
Apocryphile Press, 1891/2004) 185.
[16]
Gonzolez. Op. cit. 45.
[17] J.B. Lightfoot.
The Apostolic Fathers Clement, Ignatius,
and Polycarp, Part Two, Ignatius & Polycarp, Volume 1. (Grand Rapids:
Baker Book House, 1890/1981) 435-436.
[18] Richardson, Cyril C., ed. Early Christian Fathers. (New York: Macmillan, 1970) 121-122.
[19]
New Advent. Op. cit.
[20]
Eusebius Hist. V.xx.8.
[21] J.B. Lightfoot. The Apostolic Fathers Clement, Ignatius, and
Polycarp, Part Two, Ignatius & Polycarp, Volume 1. Op. cit. 596.
[22]
Butler. Op. cit.
[23] Charles E. Hill. From
the Lost Teaching of Polycarp. (Tubingen, Germany: Mohr Siebeck, 2006) 15.
[24] Hans Urs von Balthasar. The Scandal of the Incarnation: Irenaeus Against the Heresies. (San
Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1981/1990) 29.
[25]Betty Radice,
ed. Early Christian Writings.
(London: Penguin, 1968) 139-140.
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