Here I continue the “Introduction” to my translation of the Martyrdom of Polycarp in my two-volume work, The Apostolic Fathers for the Loeb Classical Library, vol. 1 (Harvard University Press, 2003). It is giving a bit of harder hitting scholarship (though completely accessible) and includes, at the end, some bibliography.
As it turns out, years after I published this edition, I changed my mind about when the first part of this discussion — specifically, about when the martyrdom was written and about whether it was based on eyewitness reports. That will be the subject of my next posts. The view I give here had been the consensus for many decades at the time, and is still widely held today.
******************************
Date and Integrity
Two of the most disputed issues in the modern study of the Martyrdom of Polycarp involve the integrity of its text (i.e., whether we have the original or a highly interpolated form) and the date of its composition.
Some scholars have held that the surviving text went through several stages of composition. H. von Campenhausen in particular maintained that the miraculous elements of the account, especially in the death scene itself, were added to a more straightforward description of Polycarp’s death by a later pious redactor, and that someone else added the clear parallels to the passion narratives of the New Testament in order to stress that Polycarp’s death conformed closely to that of Jesus (these parallels are not contained in the quotations of Eusebius). In addition, according to von Campenhausen, the anti-rigorist story about voluntary martyrs turned coward in chapter 4 was added later in opposition to Montanists. More recent scholars have argued, however, that the book is a unified whole, written at one time by one author, with the exception, of course, of the material found in the colophon of chapter 22 concerning the history of the transmission of the text by various copyists over the years (and possibly ch. 21; see Barnard, Musurillo, Buschmann, Dehandshutter).
It appears that the letter was written soon after Polycarp was martyred; but there is no agreement about when that may have been. Chapter 21 indicates that it occurred when Philip of Tralles was the high priest of Asia and Statius Quadratus was proconsul. Unfortunately, the dates in which they each held office evidently did not overlap (Barnes). Moreover, a number of scholars believe that this chapter was added to the book only later, much as the postscript of 22.2-3 (or the alternative ending in the Moscow manuscript), so that it cannot provide a reliable guide to the dating. Eusebius locates the martyrdom in the rule of Marcus Aurelius (Eccl. Hist. 4. 14-15). But questions have been raised about the accuracy of his report: he may well have been making a best guess a century and a half after the fact.
A range of factors have influenced the discussions of dating, including (a) Polycarp’s enigmatic statement made during the trial itself, that he had served Christ for eighty-six years (since his birth? since his baptism as an infant? since his baptism as a young adult?); (b) his documented relationship with Ignatius around 110 CE, when he was already bishop of Smyrna; (c) the possibility that the text opposes a Montanist understanding of voluntary martyrdom, and so would have to date after the appearance of Montanism in the early 170s. Weighing these data differently, scholars are divided on whether the account should be dated as late as 177 CE (Gregoire and Orgels), some time in the late 160s (Telfer, Marrou, von Campenhausen, and Frend), or a decade earlier, possibly 155 or 156 (see Lightfoot, Barnes, Musurillo, Schoedel, Bisbee, Bushmann, Dehandshutter.). On balance, probably the majority of scholars favor the final view. This would mean that Polycarp was born around 70 CE and became acquainted with Ignatius when about forty years of age, not quite half way through his long life.
Manuscripts, Abbreviations, and Editions
The epilogue (22.2-3, given differently in the Moscow manuscript), indicates the lineage of the manuscript once it was produced. A copy of the letter, we are told, was preserved in the personal library of Ireneaus and copied then by a scribe named Socrates; the copy of Socrates was copied by Gaius, which was later discovered and copied by Pionius. This is presumably the Pionius known from the third century, who was himself martyred during the persecution of Decius (ca. 250 CE).
The text produced by Pionius is now preserved in seven Greek manuscripts, as follows:
a — Atheniensis (10th c.)
h — Hierosolymitanus (11th c.)
b — Baroccianus (11th c)
c — Chalcensis (11th c.)
p — Parisinus (10th c.)
v — Vindobonensis (11-12th c.)
m — Mosquensis (13th c.)
Of these, m stands out as distinctive in many of its readings, a good number of which agree with the quotations of Eusebius, who cites most of the document in his Ecclesiastical History 4.15 (although he paraphrases 2.2-7.3 and gives no citation of 19.2-22.3). In addition, there is a rather paraphrastic Latin translation (L), which occasionally provides assistance for establishing the Greek text.
The apparatus uses the following abbreviations, in addition to those of the individual manuscripts:
G – the agreement of all the Greek manuscripts
g – the agreement of all the manuscripts apart from m
Eus – Eusebius
The editio princeps of the Martyrdom was published by James Ussher, 1647 (Appendix Ignatiana), based just on the eleventh-century Codex Baroccianus (b).
. Select Bibliography
Barnard, Leslie W. “In Defence of Pseudo-Pionius’ Account of Polycarp’s Martyrdom.” In Kyriakon: Festschrift Johannes Quasten, ed. P. Granfield. Münster: Aschendorff, 1970; 1. 192-204.
Barnes, Timothy D. “A Note on Polycarp.” JTS n.s. 18 (1967) 433-37.
_______. “Pre-Decian Acta Martyrium.” JTS n.s. 19 (1968) 510-14.
Bisbee, Gary A. Pre-Decian Acts of Martyrs and Commentarii. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1988.
Buschmann, Gerd. Martyrium Polycarpi: eine formkritische Studie, ein Beitrag zur Frage nach der Entstehung der Gattung Martyrerakte. Berlin/New York: de Gruyter, 1994.
Camelot, P. T. Ignace d’Antioche: Lettres. Lettres et Martyre de Polycarpe de Smyrne. 4th ed. SC, 10. Paris: Cerf, 1969.
Campenhausen, Hans F. von. “Bearbeitungen und Interpolationen des Polykarpmartyriums.” In Aus der Frühzeit des Christentums. Tübingen: Mohr-Siebeck, 1963.
Conzelmann, Hans. Bemerkungen zum Martyrium Polykarps. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1978.
Dehandschutter, Boudewijn. Martyrium Polycarpi: een literair-kritische studie. Leuven: Universitaire Leuven, 1979.
_____. “A ‘New’ Text of the Martyrdom of Polycarp.” ETL 66 (1990) 391-94.
_____. “The Martyrium Polycarpi: A Century of Research (Bibliography).” ANRW II.27.1 (1993) 485-522.
Frend, W. H. C. “Note on the Chronology of the Martyrdom of Polycarp and the Outbreak of Montanism.” In Oikoumen; studi paleocristiani, ed. J. Courcelle, et al. Catania: Universitá di Catania, 1964; 499-506.
Gregoire, H. and P. Orgels. “La veritable date du martyre de S. Polycarpe et le Corpus Polycarpianum.” AnBoll 69 (1951) 1-38.
Lightfoot, Joseph Barber. The Apostolic Fathers: Clement, Ignatius, and Polycarp. Part II: Ignatius and Polycarp. 3 vols. London: Macmillan, 1889; reprinted Peabody Mass.: Hendrickson, 1989.
Marrou, H.-I. “La date du martyre de S. Polycarpe.” AnBoll 71 (1953) 5-20.
Musurillo, H. A. The Acts of the Christian Martyrs. Oxford: Clarendon, 1972.
Schoedel, William. Polycarp, Martyrdom of Polycarp. Fragments of Papias, vol. 5 of The Apostolic Fathers: A New Translation and Commentary, ed. Robert M. Grant. Camden, NJ: Thomas Nelson, 1967.
______. “Polycarp of Smyrna and Ignatius of Antioch.” ANRW II.27.1 (1993) 272-358.
Telfer, William. “The Date of the Martyrdom of Polycarp.” JTS n.s. 3 (1952) 79-83.
It’s admirable that you are able to change your mind, and admit it too.Are many scholars like that? It surely demonstrates an honest desire to get to the truth, before any other issue, which makes your writings so trustworthy.
I have a simple question, simple because the scholarly subject presented here is way above me.
The names of the Apostles- with the exception of Judas – , the names of the evangelists , and others mentioned in Paul’s writings and Acts, are very popular names. But I never met or heard of someone named Polycarp, Eusebius, Tertullian, Irenaeus, etc.
After the Apostles and the Evangelists, the Apostolic Fathers are very important, as I learn on this blog. I assume that in earlier times, once Christianity won the battle, so to speak, these names may have been more common. But I don’t know.
Can this lack of popularity be on account of ignorance of their importance, or have they been forgotten by Christendom at large, relegated to rarified expert studies, or could the various martyrdoms be a factor, even as many other martyred saints’ names are popular? (Stephen,Sebastian, Lawrence, Margaret..many more)
Ah, right! No these are not common names. But I don’t know why they weren’t picked up on more. I guess it makes better sense to calla Christian child Peter or John than Polycarp or Irenaeus….
Dear Bart,
What’s your view on the claim that Polycarp knew the Apostle John?
Irenaeus says that Polcarp told him so when he (Irenaeus) was a young man. But I don’t think it’s likely. John would have had to be pretty ancient by the time Polycarp was a teenager
Does the fact that Polycarp himself not mention any relationship with John (which presumably would have given him considerable church authority) weigh in to this question of whether he actually knew John?
IT either suggests he didn’t know the person John or that he didn’t “know” that the fourth Gospel was written by John or that he didn’t know there *was* a fourth Gospel…
If Polycarp was 86 in 155, that would mean he was born in 69. If he met John at 18, that would bring us to 87. If John was born sometime between 1-10, he would be 77-86 at the time, no older than Polycarp was when he was executed, or Pope Francis today.
There is the widespread tradition that John lived to an advanced age, dying during the reign of Trajan (Irenaeus A.H. 3.3.3), which suggests he died no earlier than 98, meaning he lived until he was at least 88-97 years old if we presume he was born between 1-10.
I agree that the further we get to the end of the 1st-C and the beginning of the 2nd, the less likely it is that John was alive due to advanced age, but given that Polycarp survived into his mid-80s, and our source on the era of John’s death was Irenaeus, is it not out of the question that John lived to this advanced age also?
Yup, i’ts possible. But I doubt if John was a follower of Jesus when he was 17. In any event, there certainly is that tradition of his living a long time. It seems unlikely to me given the hint in Mark’s third passion prediction that he would drink the cup and be baptized with the baptism Jesus was baptized with. That appears to be a subtle reference to his martrydom (as it refers to that of James as well)
As to the historical reliability of traditions about John, there’s also a tradition that he ordered bed bugs to leave him alone so he could get a good night’s sleep and they marched off the bed to give him some rest. 🙂
Haha! I remember that – Acts of Timothy I think (or was it John? I seem to remember it AoT had a lot of John tradition in it).
Yes, I think those traditions are assigned to the ‘Apostolic Romance’ genre which is notoriously unreliable (Acts of Peter had him resurrect a smoked Tuna if memory serves me correctly).
I think we’re in a different ball game with the likes of Irenaeus and Polycarp who seem determined to write nothing but what they believe to be the truth – and there appears to be a fairly solid line from John to Irenaeus via Polycarp.
The composers of the Apostolic Romances, on the other hand, were knowingly composing fictional works, loosely based within a historical framework.
So can we not say, with some confidence, that a tradition about John that has passed from Polycarp to Irenaeus is more likely to be true than the fictional nonsense we find in the Apostolic Romances?
Acts of John.
The question is how one decides that a line is solid. And nonsense is the eye of the beholder. Irenaeus reports all sorts of things that are wrong. On the other sice, the author of the Acts of John was probably writing not too far removed from the time of Irenaeus and he may well have thought his reports and sources were reliable; he certainly didn’t think it was fictional nonsense.
I agree Irenaeus does blunder on occasion, but I haven’t detected any work where I get the sense that he’s attempting to deliberately deceive.
Yes, I think you’re right that the author of the Acts of John did not believe he was writing nonsense – but I think he must have known it was fiction.
I note that Eusebius recognised Acts of John (and Andrew) as “absurd and impious” (Eusebius H.E. 3.25.6-7).
In Photius’ Bibliotheca he concludes the work “contains a vast amount of childish, incredible, ill-devised, lying, silly, self-contradictory, impious, and ungodly statements, so that one would not be far wrong in calling it the source and mother of all heresy.” (!) (Photius, Bibliotheca, 114)
I don’t recall any similar condemnation of the works of Irenaeus, but then I suppose his enemies (the heretics he opposed) might have done so, and their works may not have come down to us.
I wouldn’t say he was deliberately trying to deceive. (And in fact, don’t think that I did say that! 🙂 )
And yes, ancient writers had no scruples calling views they considered wrong “stupid, ridiculous, contradictory, aburd” and so on. Irenaeus does it all the time. I don’t think that modern historians are obliged to accept these ad hoc polemical evaluatoins, though, and most historians think that’s really not the best way to approach a text, through the lenses provided by the opponents who hated them. You won’t find similar evaluations of Irenaeus because his many literary enemies’ books were not preserved, given the conquests of orthodoxy. But can assure you that Gnostic or marcionite writers would have said very nasty things about him. (For an example of anti-proto-orthodox polemic, see the Coptic Apocalypse of Peter, and especially the brilliant analysis on if by Koschorke. Also, see the articles of F. Wisse on anti-Gnostic polemics and heresiologists)
Yes, you’re quite right, and apologies if I gave the impression I thought you had suggested Irenaeus deliberately deceived – that was not my intention. I was trying to draw a comparison between an author who intentionally wrote non-fiction to one who intentionally wrote fiction. I would argue that if we have an author writing non-fiction, their works are more likely to provide historically reliable information than those who write fiction.
When you made this point in response to my appeal to Irenaeus: “As to the historical reliability of traditions about John, there’s also a tradition that he ordered bed bugs to leave him alone so he could get a good night’s sleep and they marched off the bed to give him some rest.” I was suggesting that’s not a good comparison, as that was a work of fiction and provides very little historical information, whereas Irenaeus, whilst flawed, at least attempted to convey truthful information.
Thanks for the tips on anti-proto-orthodox polemics! Koschorke’s work sounds very tempting.
It’s a bit tricky to define a work of fiction, I would say. If Irenaeus makes a historical statement that is not true — is that fiction? And you, if your German’s up to speed, go for Koschorke. If it’s not up to speed, read books like Koschorke’s to *get* it up to speed! (When I was in grad school we used to say that German is the Biblical language)
I guess I’m arguing that it’s a matter of genre, so you would have someone like the Venerable Bede writing a chronicle and he would blunder from time to time, but his work is intended and presented as a non-fiction account. George R R Martin, on the other hand, would compose a history of the fictional world of Westeros which was fully intended to be fictional and we wouldn’t expect to find any truth in his work.
I suppose the Apostolic Acts are somewhere in-between these works as they are loosely based on historical figures in the known world. Perhaps it’s akin to the TV series Chernobyl where the writers made some deliberate changes (merging several scientific figures into one character) and had to invent whole sections of dialogue and characteristics for the historical figures they used to tell the story. Would we identify these works as historical fiction?
To my regret, my languages are limited to English, Spanish, Greek, and Hebrew – and I’m only fluent in English (and occasionally nonsense!) I think I will have to learn German soon, so this is a good nudge to make that a reality, although Aramaic and Syriac are next in the queue.
I have recently encountered the explanation of the Sermon on the Mount set out by Walter Wink. There he argued that Jesus’ advice to his listeners re ‘turning the other cheek’, ‘going the extra mile’ and ‘surrendering one’s shift as well as one’s coat when sued’ should be seen as very specific tactics set within the context of Jesus’ times. No doubt you are aware of what he said and I wonder, therefore, if you have any comment to make, please.
I always thought that was very interesting but was not so convinced about the tactical side of it.
Bart, it seems to me that Jesus only wanted really dedicated disciples (e.g., Luke 9:60-62, Luke 14:26) and stressed that salvation is not easy (e.g, Matthew 7:13). However, supposedly later in the Great Commission he says to make all the nations (everyone?) his disciples. Isn’t this slightly contradictory?
The important thing is to separate out what various authors *say* about what Jesus said and did and what he really said and did. When you make that differentiation, it’s hard to know how to answer the question. The Great Commission is often thought of as not coming from Jesus himself, since it presupposes a mission to the entire world, whereas Jesus (i.e. the man himself, insofar as we can figure out what he actually said and did) appears to have been concerned only with his mission to Israel. So it’s usually thought that after he died and the Xns began to spread the gospel they put the Great Commission on his lips to authorize what they were doing. Their logic was that since the message was rejected by Jews, it was to go to gentiles. Does that make sense?