The Mysterious Martyrdom of Polycarp

Christianity’s early chain of custody passes through a pivotal figure named Polycarp who, like Paul, wrote a letter to the Philippians. Unlike Paul, however, Polycarp was familiar with and quoted from the gospel of Matthew. Polycarp’s apprentice Irenaeus became the first person to name and reference all the gospels in Against Heresies, published circa 180 AD, a few years after Polycarp was supposedly burned at the stake - and even stabbed in his side, just like Jesus before him.

Irenaeus claims that Polycarp learned Christianity from John himself, giving him only one degree of separation from Jesus Christ! Polycarp was supposedly born in 69 AD, so that he would have been an infant when Titus Flavius fulfilled the prophecies of Jesus by besieging and destroying Jerusalem in 70 AD. So what can Polycarp tell us about the historical development of Christianity?

Polycarp only references Paul’s letters and the gospel of Matthew, while his disciple Irenaeus was the first to call the four gospels by name. This stepwise evolution shows that the Christian canon was still being established at the end of Polycarp’s life. Polycarp’s letter to the Philippians, dated to 150 AD, supports the thesis that Luke was not yet written at this date. But Polycarp does cite the gospel of Matthew:

“The Lord said in his teaching: ‘Do not judge, so that you are not judged; forgive, and you will be forgiven; show mercy, so that you may obtain mercy; for as you portion it out to others, so it will be apportioned back to you.’ And in addition: The poor are blessed, as well as those that are persecuted because of righteousness, because the kingdom of God belongs to them.” -Polycarp, Epistle to the Philippians

Polycarp even quotes directly from the gospel of Matthew: “let us beseech the all-seeing God not to lead us into temptation; as the Lord has said, ‘The spirit truly is willing but the flesh is weak’” (see Matthew 26:41). Yet Polycarp does not know the name of Matthew, and indeed Paul is the only author he praises: “Neither I nor anyone else can live up to the wisdom of the blessed and glorified Paul.”

There is a second document, aside from Polycarp’s letter to the Philippians, that recounts his macabre martyrdom. The event would have taken place around 155 AD, about 25 years before Irenaeus published Against Heresies. Fitting the composition of Luke and Acts into this time period is a cinch, since the books are dedicated to Theophilus, who was bishop of Antioch from 169 to 182 AD. Likewise the gospel of John was apparently unknown before this time.

The parallels between Polycarp’s death and Christ’s death are openly invoked: “nearly all the foregoing events came to pass that the Lord might show us once more an example of martyrdom which is conformable to the Gospel” (Martyrdom of Polycarp 1:1). Like Jesus lashed by the Romans, Christian martyrs “were so torn by lashes that the mechanism of their flesh was visible even as far as the inward veins and arteries” (2.2). And yet the grace of God eased the sufferings of these martyrs, as in their demise “they were no longer men but angels already” (2:3).

Like Jesus who predicts the necessity of his torture, Polycarp says “'It must needs be that I shall be burned alive” (5:2). The captain of police is even named Herod! On Friday Polycarp has a last supper, then he rides an ass into the city on the Sabbath. He gets one last chance from Herod to hail Caesar and offer him incense, but Polycarp is a steadfast iconoclast. Delivered to the stage of his martyrdom, a voice from Heaven tells him, “Be strong, Polycarp, and play the man” (9:1). Polycarp even has a Madame Blavatsky moment as he tells his executioner, “Come, do what thou wilt” (11:2).

When the crowd calls for Polycarp to be burned, the Jews are especially eager to incinerate him: “the crowds forthwith collecting from the workshops and baths timber and faggots, and the Jews more especially assisting in this with zeal, as is their wont” (13.1). The Jews were also zealous for the death of Christ. The narrator even compares the burning of Polycarp to a holocaust: “like a noble ram out of a great flock for an offering, a burnt sacrifice made ready and acceptable to God” (14.1).

Miraculously, as the fire surrounds Polycarp, he becomes like a loaf of bread in an oven, and starts to smell like Frankincense. Desperate to put an end to Polycarp, an executioner stabs him, only to watch his blood extinguish the fire. Yet still he dies, and the Jews urge his body to be cremated lest the Christians start worshiping it. The Christians have to settle for his bones. As with Easter, they “celebrate the birth-day of his martyrdom for the commemoration of those that have already fought in the contest, and for the training and preparation of those that shall do so hereafter” (18:3).

Remember, Polycarp’s martyrdom is supposed to be an example for you to follow. The text says his “martyrdom all desire to imitate, seeing that it was after the pattern of the Gospel of Christ” (19.1). Obviously, the fact that the martyrdom of Polycarp is patterned after the gospel of Christ is a good reason to regard it as a work of fiction. But there could be some truth to it: Marcion had published his bible in the midst of Polycarp’s life, and unlike the 1st century AD, the 2nd century is actually the right time to start looking for the persecution of Christians.

Polycarp’s name means “many fruits” and indeed fruity is a favored metaphor for the followers of Christ. As his epistle to the Philippians states, “Pray also for kings, rulers, princes, and for those who persecute and hate you; also for the enemies of the cross that your fruit may be apparent to all and that you may be perfect in him.” And “The strong root of your faith, spoken of in days long passed, have lasted until now and borne fruit to our Lord Jesus Christ.” Polycarp’s name again indicates his fictionality.

One major difference between Jesus and Polycarp is that the latter was supposedly 86 years old when he died. The moral of the story is clear: you’re never too old to choose a horrible death rather than pay lip service to Caesar.

Read more:

Polycarp was so confident in his fate that he refused the nails.