Through the Eyes of John and Mary
A brief hypothesis on chapters 18 and 19 of Ignatius of Antioch’s Letter to the Ephesians and his primary sources
By John C. Evans
Disclaimer:
The following consists of a blog entry and not an exhaustive study of the questions raised. As such, it is intended as a rough outline of my thesis and is subject to critique, revision, and further dialogue.
The letter to the Ephesians attributed to the early second-century martyr, Ignatius of Antioch, conspicuously stands out from the six other epistles generally believed to be authentic by mainstream voices in the field of patristics. This is largely due to a famous or infamous passage toward the end of the letter, comprising of chapters 18 and 19 in which Ignatius, on his way to execution in Rome, seemingly diverts from the flow of his discourse to expound the events surrounding the passion and nativity of Christ. The minimalist scholar will inevitably hold to the conviction that these references comprise of merely one layer in a series of “ecclesiastical traditions” of dubious origin with little to no foundation in the person of the historical Jesus. Such a conviction, however, is founded on the presupposition that either the apostolic memory died before Ignatius gave his life in Rome toward the very dawn of the second century or that the successors to the Apostles had little concern for historicity as we would conceive of it. However, such a presupposition ignores two steady streams of evidence branching from a wealth of patristic sources.
Most would place the death of John, the last surviving apostle, to circa A.D 90 in Ephesus, hardly twenty years before the martyrdom of Ignatius of Antioch. John was active in Asia Minor toward the end of his life and according to the second-century father Irenaeus, a well-known student of Polycarp, he was responsible for combating heretical sects toward the close of the first century, which sought to distort the memory of what the rest of the twelve witnessed and died defending. John was an eyewitness of the crucifixion of Jesus, was caretaker for His Mother in Ephesus, until her passing or assumption, possibly in the 60s, and is listed as a pillar of the faith by Paul alongside James, the brother or cousin of the Lord. There is also the witness of Papias. Papias authored an “exposition on the oracles of the Lord,” which is now lost. However, fragments survive. Papias claims to have faithfully passed on what he learned from a series of eyewitnesses of “the truth” and to have an interest in truth as it factually happened, and he references the name “John” twice. As we read:
But I shall not be unwilling to put down, along with my interpretations, whatsoever instructions I received with care at any time from the elders, and stored up with care in my memory, assuring you at the same time of their truth. For I did not, like the multitude, take pleasure in those who spoke much, but in those who taught the truth; nor in those who related strange commandments, but in those who rehearsed the commandments given by the Lord to faith and proceeding from truth itself. If then, anyone who had attended on the elders came, I asked minutely after their sayings — what Andrew or Peter said, or what was said by Philip, or by Thomas, or by James, or by John, or by Matthew, or by any other of the Lord’s disciples: which things Ariston and the presbyter John, the disciples of the Lord, say. For I imagined that what was to be found from books was not as profitable to me as what came from the living and abiding voice.
There was no doubt whose “living and abiding voice” Papias was referring to in this passage from the second century through the fourth century when questions arose. This was largely due to Papias’ commitment to a literal millennial reign of Christ as described in the Apocalypse. These eschatological concerns may have placed Papias outside the sphere of those who would seek to place him in proximity to one of the twelve apostles, and so the direct line from John the apostle to Papias was called into scrutiny. However, a secondary fragment of Papias states that many in the early church referred to one another as “children,” a term that repeatedly appears in the vocabulary of 1: John and partially in the upper room farewell discourse of John 14 through 17.
As we read in Papias, “[The early Christians] called those who practiced a godly guilelessness, children, [as is stated by Papias in the first book of the Lord’s Expositions, and by Clemens Alexandrines in his Pedagogue].” In the first fragment, the terms “the truth” and “witness” are employed by Papias and are favorite terms of the apostle John in his canonical Gospel. The historical grounds for pressing a wedge between Papias and the last surviving apostle seems to be contrived and in discontinuity from these internal shards of evidence and the consistent body of external evidence until the fourth century. If then Papias was indeed, as Irenaeus claims, a “hearer of John,” a term employed for a professional scribe, and if Ignatius was indeed, as tradition holds, a student of the apostle, it is more than probable they could have crossed paths. Therefore, the claim that apostolic memory generally died before the time of Ignatius’ martyrdom is suspect and should be soundly rejected on strictly historical grounds.
Fourth-century tradition universally names Ignatius as an associate of John the Apostle and second successor from Peter in Antioch. Some narratives go so far as to claim that Peter ordained Ignatius to office; others remain relatively vague. Given the traditional date of Ignatius’ birth in A.D 36, and the universally Petrine and Johannine associations made with this figure, it seems chronologically probable that Ignatius had access to John in his passing on the apostolic teaching to a new generation, which had never seen Jerusalem before 70 A.D. Also, given the rapid succession of Peter’s martyrdom, and likely that of his successor, Evodius, in Antioch, it seems that Peter may have well selected a younger man, such as Ignatius, as a successor in the mid-60s so that a clear line of teachers could be maintained without dispute or factionalism in the Interocean Church. From 1: Clement, composed between the 70s and 90s, disputes over who had the right to hold clerical office and institute the sacraments appear to be extent. Could Peter have foreseen this difficulty and insured that the next two successors of his in Antioch would be assured by personally partaking, in some mode, in their ordination? The chronology, motivation, and patristic sources speak in a unified chorus. Polycarp, who, according to Irenaeus, was a student of John, received a letter from Ignatius in which he instructs him in his office. This is the equivalent of a member of the USCCB writing a treatise on how to be humble and live charitably in tones of undeniable authority to the chosen pupil of Mother Teresa of Calcutta. Clearly, anyone who would dare to speak in such a manner would either themselves be remarkably presumptuous or would have to share at least a comparable, if not greater, level of authoritative standing in the community of believers.
Irenaeus states in his work that Polycarp knew “apostles” in the plural. There is some debate as to how Irenaeus employs this term: whether he includes the 70 or just the 12. However, in either case, we see a body of eyewitnesses alive and well during the lifetime of Ignatius of Antioch. Therefore, what he has to relate about the person of Jesus, his birth and death, the arranging of church government and the liturgy, should be approached with some interest. Plutarch’s biographies are distanced from their sources, often by a much wider margin and with much greater political pressure. Ignatius, on the other hand, writes like a man who knows he is going to die. His motivations for dishonesty are physiologically implausible. Ignatius is undeniably sincere and writes within living memory of those who stood at the foot of the cross and witnessed the empty tomb.
This leads us to the text of the famous, or infamous, passage on the Nativity Star. I have opted to quote the whole of chapters 18 and 19 as recorded on New Advent. This is because Ignatius’ reference to The Star must not be taken out of context. Until now, Ignatius has offered his readers an explanation on right and wrong teaching, true and false worship, reflections on conduct, and makes reference to a secondary work he hopes to write that he will never get the opportunity to attempt. Nowhere, until now, has Ignatius been concerned with advancing a Christology as the primary focus of his work as in the creed of Philippians 2, nor is he attempting to provide an apology of the faith as in the work of Justen Martyr. Instead, up until this point, Ignatius is passing on encouragement even as he is being led away to be fed to the lions in the arena. Therefore, this makes any biographical information about Jesus precious and striking. It also makes Ignatius’ sudden mention of the Nativity of Christ a seemingly startling departure from some of the themes he introduced throughout the work. What is Ignatius’ motivation and more importantly who is Ignatius’ primary source? The passage is as follows:
Let my spirit be counted as nothing for the sake of the cross, which is a stumbling-block, 1 Corinthians 1:18, to those that do not believe, but to us salvation and life eternal. Where is the wise man? Where the disputer? (1 Corinthians 1:20)
Where is the boasting of those who are styled prudent? For our God, Jesus Christ, was, according to the appointment of God, conceived in the womb of Mary, of the seed of David, by the Holy Ghost. He was born and baptized, that by His passion He might purify the water. (First Epistle to the Ephesians)
Now, the virginity of Mary was hidden from the prince of this world, as was also her offspring and the death of the Lord; three mysteries of renown, which were wrought in silence by God. How, then, was He manifested to the world? A star shone forth in heaven, above all of the other stars, the light of which was inexpressible, while its novelty struck men with astonishment. And all the rest of the stars, with the sun and moon, formed a chorus to this star, and its light was exceedingly great above them all. And there was agitation felt as to whence this new spectacle came, so unlike to everything else [in the heavens]. Hence, every kind of magic was destroyed, and every bond of wickedness disappeared; ignorance was removed, and the old kingdom abolished. God Himself was being manifested in human form for the renewal of eternal life. And now that took a beginning, which had been prepared by God. Henceforth, all things were in a state of tumult because He meditated the abolition of death. (Chapter 19. Three celebrated mysteries)
First, let us note what Ignatius does not say. He does not state, “As is piously believed,” nor does he use the formula Paul employs in 1: Corinthians to describe how Eucharistic traditions were passed on to him. Also, notice that Ignatius does not begin with the manger, but instead approaches the crusixifion as his preamble, quoting Corinthians. He does this by pointing out that the “wisdom and power of God” who appeared in the manger is “God” and “appointed by God […] to take on human flesh.” He also links this with baptism, a sign of participating as Paul reminds us in Romans in the death and resurrection of Jesus. This sacramental focus seems to imply on implicit grounds that just as the believer descends into the depths of the waters, so too did the eternal Creator descend into the depths of His creation toward “the abolition of death,” toward the exodus from death to life.
Water is seen as a sign of the netherworld in Semitic cultures. Leviathan, a type of Luciferian monster dwells coiled in the great deep. As Jesus “purifies the water” so too does God hallow, even the grave, by His self-offering on the Cross. Remember that it is Ignatius of Antioch who calls The Eucharist or Lord’s Supper the “medicine of immortality” and refers to the host as the “flesh” of Christ, echoing John: 6. This is a man who sees his own upcoming death in the arena as a participation in the death of Christ, a death that paradoxically abolishes death. Immortality is acquired by willingly undergoing in communion the self-emptying of Christ, in conformity with the will of God, the same God who appeared in Bethlehem heralded by a star. Further, notice that Ignatius speaks of the star at some length and does not address it as a symbol. It is a star that shines more than the “moon and sun.” These are details that soundly place Ignatius’ reference outside the realm of a private vision to the Magi and well beyond a natural convergence that was only knowable to astrologers. Ignatius’ star is widely visible, is as historical as the crucifixion, and intimately connected with the mystery of The Incarnation. This gives the aforementioned passage the general mood of a creedal statement, although there is no evidence that it would be employed as such. The fact that Johannine Christology is assumed as the Christology of the Synoptic Jesus is clear evidence that the Apostolic Church was already engaged in harmonizing the Gospel portraits of The Messiah. It is also evidence that this appeal to the “whole councel of God,” as Paul explains in Acts to the Ephesians, is employed with concern for the historicity of the events described and not in spite of them. The Gospel of Ignatius is the Gospel of Nicaea. There is no discontinuity between the Christianity of the first and early second centuries with those of the past two centuries.
The great question should arise, who is Ignatius’ source? Ignatius was born in the 30s and could not have witnessed the Christmas star in person. He could have made use of Mathew’s gospel already in circulation. However, the Gospel of Mathew in its extended form makes no mention of the star shining brighter than the moon and sun. A sound argument could be made that much of Mathew: 1 and Luke: 1 is a product of Luke interviewing Mary as an eyewitness while in Ephesus. If so, John may have remembered as Mary’s caretaker, details about the Christmas Star, he may have passed it on to Ignatius. This is certainly plausible and lends further credibility to the survival of the apostolic witness into the close of the first century. However, there is yet another hypothesis, one dependent on Ignatius’ confident tone and the chronology of his life. Ignatius was born circa A.D 36 and seems to have become a Christian at a fairly early age. Mary, the only surviving eyewitness of The Star, could have walked on this earth as late as A.D 70, although her passing or assumption is more likely between the 50s and 60s. If we place Mary’s assumption to the mid to late 60s, this means that Ignatius could have personally met Mary as a neophyte. If Ignatius was as close to John as 4th-century authors heavily imply, and if this association began while Ignatius was only in his 20’s, then a meeting with Mary would have been a primary desire for anyone seeking to grow in knowledge of the person of Jesus. Of course, such a hypothesis remains strictly speculative when we are confronted with source material believed authentic by most mainstream scholarship. The fact that John could have easily acted as the intermediate of this data is highly probable. Beyond that, the historian can only raise the inquiry if this is all that presently exists. But, as with all Ecclesiastical Traditions, there is more.
A 12th-century text, later codified in the Golden Legend, reports a short exchange between Ignatius of Antioch and Mary. The full text of the brief exchange is copied below from New Advent.
Her friend Ignatius to the Christ-bearing Mary:
“You ought to have comforted and consoled me who am a neophyte, and a disciple of your [beloved] John. For I have heard things wonderful to tell respecting your [Son] Jesus, and I am astonished by such a report. But I desire with my whole heart to obtain information concerning the things which I have heard from you, who was always intimate and allied with Him, and who was acquainted with [all] His secrets. I have also written to you at another time and have asked you concerning the same things. Fare well; and let the neophytes who are with me being comforted of you, and by you, and in you. Amen.”
Reply of the Blessed Virgin to this Letter:
“The lowly handmaid of Christ Jesus to Ignatius, her beloved fellow disciple. The things which you have heard and learned from John concerning Jesus are true. Believe them, cling to them, and hold fast the profession of that Christianity which you have embraced, and conform your habits and life to your profession. Now I will come in company with John to visit you, and those that are with you. Stand fast in the faith, 1 Corinthians 16:13 and show yourself a man; nor let the fierceness of persecution move you, but let your spirit be strong and rejoice in God your Savior. Luke 1:47. Amen.”
The text does not appear in any known form before the 12th-century and is found only in Latin. It is also clumped together with other epistles largely condemned as “spurious” or pseudepigrapha. However, the text is unadorned with rhetorical flourishes, employs the Marian title, “Christ bearer,” rather than “Mater Dei,” and is filled with Old Testament allusions which would have been formed in the mind of an early Jewish Christian. The title, “Christ bearer,” was employed by Nestorius in opposition to the title, “Mother of God,” which would become enshrined as the more accurate honorific owed to Mary in the wake of Chalcedon. A 12th century monk is therefore unlikely to have employed these terms. An additional blog entry of mine is dedicated to the possibility of the texts’ authenticity. Regardless, no scholar, conservative or otherwise, treats the text as genuinely of the 1st century A.D. What does this tell us then? At most, we may be looking at a missing epistle recording a bond between Ignatius the Martyr and the source for his mention of the Christmas Star, the Mother of God herself. At least, if the opinion of the scholarly community is accurate and the epistle is among the pseudepigrapha, then we are witnessing a tradition which places Ignatius as a witness to apostles who had direct access to the disputes he discusses. In either case, the reader is compelled to hear the ring of authenticity in Ignatius’ reference to the Star over Bethlehem as a historical phenomena as comparably tangible as the crucifixion of the King and God whom it foretold.
Finally, circumstantial evidence regarding the passing of Ignatius should be considered in light of our discussion. In A.D 108 or 110, as Ignatius was being led to execution, delegations from the churches he passed arrived and supposedly greeted him. There was no wide persecution in 108 in Asia Minor, although this does not rule out a local persecution. Nevertheless, it is odd that one bishop among many should be dragged to Rome, the capital of the world, for the death sentence and not executed nearer to home. Why drag a political prisoner across the breadth of the whole Eastern portion of the Roman Empire when it would be just as easy to send him to an arena nearer to Antioch? Polycarp, a known student of John, was not treated to a full military escort to Rome. Instead, he died in Smyrna. In his letter to the Romans, Ignatius had to beg his contacts there not to arrange for his release. How does this lowly bishop from the Eastern portion of the empire have contacts high enough to change the mind of the emperor in Rome? These are hallmarks of no ordinary prisoner. These are efforts akin to those employed against Paul in Acts. A document reporting to be an account of Ignatius’ martyrdom still exists outlining a dispute he had with the emperor, Trajan. This is often read as an allegory for a more local dispute between a local representative of Caesar and Ignatius. However, given the strong patristic tradition of his apostolic connections, and the unusual lengths the empire went to transport this prisoner, one can only wonder if there is more to this tradition than meets the eye. This should lead us to naturally conclude that perhaps Ignatius was indeed an associate of John and of Peter, that he was widely respected as a friend of the earliest eyewitnesses of Jesus, that he was responsible for accurately preserving their teachings, that he had no incentive to lie about the Christian star given his near proximity to death, and that he recognized that it was his mission to insure a written record was left behind of these largely aural traditions.