The Apostolic Fathers in English Page 2
Magn.
Magnesians
Trall.
Trallians
Rom.
Romans
Phld.
Philadelphians
Smyrn.
Smyrnaeans
Pol.
Polycarp
Pol. Phil.
Polycarp, To the Philippians
Mart. Pol.
Martyrdom of Polycarp
Did.
Didache
Barn.
Epistle of Barnabas
Herm.
Shepherd of Hermas
Mand.
Commandments (Mandates)
Sim.
Parables (Similitudes)
Vis.
Visions
Diogn.
Epistle to Diognetus
Pap. Frag.
Fragments of Papias
Other Abbreviations
ANRW
Aufstieg und Niedergang der Römischen Welt. Edited by H. Temporini and W. Haase. Berlin: W. de Gruyter, 1972–.
BETL
Bibliotheca Ephemeridum Theologicarum Lovaniensium
Lightfoot, AF
J. B. Lightfoot. The Apostolic Fathers, Part I: S. Clement of Rome. 2nd ed., 2 vols.; Part II: S. Ignatius. S. Polycarp. 2nd ed., 3 vols. London: Macmillan, 1890, 1889; repr. Grand Rapids: Baker, 1981.
Lightfoot, Apostolic Fathers
J. B. Lightfoot. The Apostolic Fathers. Edited and completed by J. R. Harmer. London: Macmillan, 1891; repr. Grand Rapids: Baker, 1956. [Eng. trans. only]
LXX
The Septuagint
TU
Texte und Untersuchungen
VCSupp
Supplements to Vigiliae Christianae
WUNT
Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament
ZAC
Zeitschrift für Antikes und Christentum
Introduction
The term “Apostolic Fathers” is traditionally used to designate the collection of the earliest extant Christian writings outside the New Testament. These documents are a primary resource for the study of early Christianity, especially the postapostolic period (ca. AD 70–150). They provide significant and often unparalleled glimpses of and insights into the life of Christians and the Christian movement during a critical transitional stage in its history.
It was a time, for example, when problems could no longer be solved by seeking an authoritative answer from an apostle. As a consequence, the church had to begin to deal with the question of sources of authority and authoritative tradition at a time when new challenges and pressures, both internal and external, were confronting the new religious movement in increasingly forceful terms. Moreover, key developments in the process leading to the formation of catholic Christianity, such as the emergence of the monepiscopal or “single bishop” system of church governance and the regula fidei, or “rule of faith,” have their roots in this period. Clearly this was a crucial time in the history of a movement that would in the not so distant future come to play a major role in the culture of Late Antiquity, and the Apostolic Fathers are crucial witnesses to it.
The writers of these documents—many of whom unfortunately remain anonymous—constitute a diverse and fascinating group. To be sure, they are not particularly distinguished as writers,[1] and they have often been criticized, for example, for “falling away” from the purity or high level of the apostolic faith and teaching, or for institutionalizing or otherwise restricting the freedom of the gospel. Such comments, however, generally reveal more about the perspective of the person making them than they do about those being criticized.
Taken on their own terms and in the context of their own times, these writers prove to be an engaging cast of characters. They are real people struggling to deal with various opportunities, problems, and crises as best they can. There is, as Lightfoot observes, the “gentleness and serenity of Clement, whose whole spirit is absorbed in contemplating the harmonies of nature and of grace”; the “fiery zeal of Ignatius,” in whom the passionate desire for martyrdom overwhelms all other concerns; the enduring faithfulness of Polycarp, whose entire eighty-six-year life “is spent in maintaining the faith once delivered to the saints”; the “moral earnestness and the simple fervour” of The Shepherd of Hermas and The Didache; and the “intensity of conviction” of The Epistle to Diognetus, which “contrasts the helpless isolation and the universal sovereignty of the Christian.”[2] Even in The Epistle of Barnabas, which Lightfoot thought was “overlaid by a rigid and extravagant” allegorical interpretation of scripture, one “cannot fail to recognise a very genuine underlying faith,” and the same must be said of Papias, in spite of the fact that the surviving fragments of his work “do not leave a favourable impression of his theological depth.”[3] In short, for all their differences and disagreements, they share a deep and genuine devotion to Jesus. As Lightfoot aptly puts it:
There is a breadth of moral sympathy, an earnest sense of personal responsibility, a fervour of Christian devotion, which are the noblest testimony to the influence of the gospel on characters obviously very diverse, and will always command for their writings a respect wholly disproportionate to their literary merits.[4]
The Collection
Although the term “Apostolic Fathers” seems to have been used as early as the seventh century by Anastasius of Sinai,[5] its modern significance dates to 1672, when the French scholar J. B. Cotelier published two volumes titled SS. Patrum qui temporibus apostolicis floruerunt . . . opera . . . vera et suppositicia. He included among the works he attributed to these “holy fathers who were active in apostolic times” the recently (re)discovered writings of Barnabas, Clement of Rome, Hermas, Ignatius of Antioch, and Polycarp of Smyrna. In 1765, A. Gallandi expanded the collection to include The Epistle to Diognetus, the fragments of Papias, and Quadratus. The last widely accepted addition was The Didache, following its discovery in 1873. Despite occasional calls either to enlarge or reduce the bounds of the collection,[6] the preceding list of works has become the de facto “canon” of Apostolic Fathers. The present edition includes all the documents found in the traditional list, differing from it only in that it does not give separate treatment to Quadratus.[7]
The form of the collection as it exists today, therefore, is largely a matter of tradition (and now convenience) and is undoubtedly somewhat arbitrary. It possesses no particular unity or coherence with regard to chronology, theological orientation, or literary genre. Rather than impose an extrinsic or artificial unity upon the collection, we should accept the lack of coherence for what it is: testimony to the vigorous diversity characteristic of early Christianity at this time in history. In this way the documents can be appreciated for what they are—evidence of the actual issues and concerns with which early Christian believers struggled in their efforts to integrate faith and life—rather than devalued for something they are not.
The Historical Setting
In order to understand the Apostolic Fathers it is helpful to have some sense of the historical context within which the documents were written. The following brief sketch outlines the main trends and developments during the postapostolic period and beyond.
Christianity at the End of the Apostolic Period
By the end of Nero’s reign (AD 68) Christianity had spread throughout much of the eastern Mediterranean region, largely as a consequence of ongoing evangelistic efforts on the part of the faithful. The church at Antioch, where some of the first Gentile evangelization occurred, was a leader in this respect, and teams commissioned by the congregation there had by AD 55 established daughter congregations throughout Galatia, western Asia Minor, and several key cities in Greece, including Philippi, Thessalonica, and Corinth. It is quite improbable that Antioch was the only congregation involved in this type of activity, and it appears that by 55 to 65 other teams of itinerant travelers had penetrated Cappadocia, Bithynia, and Pontus to the north and were working eastward through Syria toward Edessa. To the south the excellent commu
nication, travel, and trade between Alexandria and the rest of Egypt make it unlikely that Christianity was still unknown in the Nile Valley outside of Alexandria. What had begun in Jerusalem as just another Jewish sect among many was by around AD 65 a part of the urban scene in many Greek cities.
Even as new converts increasingly were pagan and Gentile in background, Jewish Christians apparently continued to have access to the synagogues that were to be found in nearly every city. The Roman government generally exhibited a relatively benign attitude toward the new religious movement, largely because of its Jewish roots, although it was just beginning to distinguish between the two.
Along with the growth came new needs and problems, and these in turn gave rise to new answers and solutions. Different forms of internal organization (congregational, presbyterian, and episcopal) were being tried, and channels of communication between congregations, which facilitated the exchange of aid and advice, were coming into existence. Congregations enjoyed the benefits (and sometimes the tensions) of being ministered to by both resident pastors and itinerant apostles and prophets. Hymns and spiritual songs took their place alongside the scriptures (especially the Psalms) in worship, for which Sunday had become the firmly established day, and rudimentary liturgical forms and creeds (the earliest of which was “Jesus is Lord”) were being composed. These hymns, forms, and creeds contributed to and in turn became a part of the church’s still developing and steadily clearer sense of self-identity and understanding. In addition, the church now possessed several documents explicating the substance and implications of its beliefs, largely because of the efforts of Paul of Tarsus and his predecessors and colleagues. In sum, to borrow a phrase from the author of the Acts of the Apostles, it could still be said that “the churches were strengthened in the faith, and increased in numbers daily” (Acts 16:5).
This happy scene was not to last, however. Between AD 64 and 70 the consequences of two events (the fire in Rome and the fall of Jerusalem) and the culmination of a trend (the dying off of apostles and other key leaders of the early church) would interact to confront a new generation of leaders with a quite different set of challenges and circumstances from those faced by their predecessors.
Jewish-Christian Relations (70–135)
The boundaries of this period are provided by two important events in Jewish history: the destruction of Jerusalem during the first Jewish revolt against Rome (AD 66–74) and again during the second (AD 132–135). Though Christians participated in neither, the first revolt in particular profoundly affected the future of both Judaism and Christianity and therefore merits a closer look.
Though the first revolt lasted until the fall of Masada in AD 74, the key event was the destruction of the temple in 70 by the Roman general Titus. He put down the rebellion and demolished the temple, apparently hoping that the loss of the temple would contribute to the disappearance of the religions of the Jews and the Christians alike. While his hope went unrealized, his impact was in some respects greater than he might have anticipated.
In response to the loss of the temple, Judaism underwent a major reformulation. The temple as a focal point for the faith was replaced by the synagogue, and scholarly rabbis like Johanan ben Zakkai (who established an academy at Jamnia [Yavneh]) and Akiba eventually replaced the priests as key leaders. Of all the various strands and varieties of Judaism that existed before the revolt, the Pharisaic form is one of only two to have survived the ensuing turmoil for the long term,[8] and it did so largely by transforming itself (or being absorbed) into rabbinic Judaism, in which study of Torah replaced temple worship as a central focus. The reformulation included a purge of sectarian tendencies, especially those thought to be responsible for starting the war. Further, some effort was made toward beginning to define more clearly the dividing line between Jew and non-Jew. For example, the twelfth of the “Eighteen Benedictions” (Shemoneh Esreh), the oldest part of the synagogue service, was at some point reworded to exclude sectarians and heretics, including, apparently, Christians: “For the renegades let there be no hope, and may . . . the Nazarenes and the minim [heretics] perish as in a moment and may they be blotted out of the book of life and not enrolled with the righteous. . . .”[9] At the same time evangelistic efforts directed toward outsiders continued apace; Josephus, the Jewish historian, wrote at least in part to commend the Jewish faith to his fellow Roman citizens.
An eventual effect of the reworded Twelfth Benediction on the church was gradually to close off access to synagogues for Jewish Christians, which (in some regions, at least) increased the distance and sharpened the distinction—and the hostility, in some instances—between synagogue and congregation. Each thought that it represented the true Israel, and consequently that the other had fallen away from God. Classic statements of this perspective from the Christian side include Justin Martyr’s Dialogue with Trypho (Trypho being a Jewish rabbi),[10] and the anonymous Epistle of Barnabas, likely written from Alexandria sometime between AD 70 and 135. Among other things, the latter writer collects a number of scriptural prophecies that allegedly prove that the Jews missed their opportunity due to ignorance and disobedience and so were rejected and replaced as God’s people by the Christians. The evident bitterness of this intramural conflict is rooted in more than theological differences or historical circumstances: anti-Semitism, a not uncommon feature of Greco-Roman culture, could be found within the church as well.
Though less noticed at the time, the gradual closure of synagogues to Christians also meant the loss of an important source of learned converts for the church. From this point on the intellectual focus of the church would shift increasingly toward the Greek philosophical tradition, from which a growing percentage of the more intellectually inclined converts was being drawn. Thus what began as a Jewish reform movement increasingly moved toward expressing its most fundamental tenets in terms drawn primarily from Greek philosophy.
In short, the years following AD 70 are marked by a sense of increasing distance between Judaism and Christianity. The need to define oneself over against the “other” was perhaps more acute for the emerging Christian movement (for whom Judaism was, apparently, a major competitor) than it was for Judaism (to whom Christianity was only one of a number of “deviating” traditions). Moreover, the process of differentiation certainly did not happen everywhere at the same rate, and the seemingly clear theological differences between the two movements were not always so evident in life and practice: the forcefulness of Ignatius’s denunciation of those who “profess Jesus Christ” yet continue “to practice Judaism” alerts us to the permeability of the boundaries between congregation and synagogue on a local level.[11] Nonetheless, with due allowance for the range of variation within each movement and the diversity of interaction between them, the general long-term trends are clear: Judaism and Christianity are following diverging trajectories, and the legacy of suspicion and hostility from these early decades would be, regrettably, long-lived.
Internal Developments (70–135)
The fall of Jerusalem roughly coincided with the dying off of the firstgeneration Christian leaders. The result for the church at large was the loss of its stabilizing center or foundation. Whereas it had once been possible to settle disagreements by calling an apostolic council in Jerusalem or seeking the guidance of a recognized figure such as James or Paul, the church now experienced the loss of authority figures of sufficient stature to arbitrate disputes or establish points of doctrine or practice.
One consequence of this loss was the flourishing of diversity within the church. We may imagine a spectrum ranging from those who still considered Christianity to be a reform movement within Judaism to others who regarded it as some sort of new mystery cult, with nearly every imaginable position in between occupied by various groups, all of whom considered themselves legitimate expressions of authentic Christianity. And who was to say they were not? For while an increasingly clear sense of an essential center or core of beliefs was emerging, and certain extremes like d
ocetism and extreme libertinism were, when recognized, rejected, beyond this the boundaries between authentic and inauthentic expressions of the faith were still being explored and drawn. The concept of a normative Christianity was only beginning to emerge during this time, and when it did, it did so in terms that reflect the motto on the great seal of the United States, e pluribus unum: “out of many, one.” The apostles, as it were, had defined the center; it fell to later generations to attempt to define the boundaries.
Signs of an emerging normative (or “proto-orthodox”) Christianity and indications that the vacuum left by the death of the apostles would not remain empty for long may be seen in subsequent developments regarding written sources of authority and in church structure. To replace the oral testimony of eyewitnesses of the life and resurrection of Jesus (cf. the “eyewitnesses and ministers of the word” of Luke 1:2) there came into existence within a decade or so on either side of AD 70 written accounts, or gospels, recounting his life and ministry. In addition, partial collections of apostolic letters began to be formed as churches exchanged copies of whatever documents happened to be available to them, and a history of the early church (the Acts of the Apostles) was composed. Because these writings were considered to be authoritative witnesses to Jesus, to whom also the scriptures (i.e., what eventually came to be known as the Old Testament) testified, the new writings were soon put on the same level as the others; we find references at this time to the “scriptures, the gospel, and the apostle” (i.e., the Jewish scriptures, gospels, and letters) being used in worship services. In short, the apostles and other leaders were in some respects replaced by collections of written documents derived from them, though there was yet no concern to determine the contents or boundaries of these varying collections.