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Chapter 36 of 41

03.11. Chapter 11 - The Early Christian Centuries

12 min read · Chapter 36 of 41

Chapter 11 The Early Christian Centuries In this and the following chapters we must trace the Book for a period of some 1,300 years, or from the time that the New Testament was completed until the time comes that we can look into Wycliffe’s study at Lutterworth and see him busily translating his Vulgate copy into the then spoken language of England. And just as we found in our rapid survey of the history of the Old Testament Scriptures that at various times enemies had striven to destroy them, so we shall find the same thing repeated with the New Testament in an even more determined and bitterly hostile way.

We know that all the twenty-seven books of our New Testament were written before the close of the first century. When and by whom were these various books of the New Testament completed and arranged in one volume as we now have them? Of all the various opinions that have been expressed, it seems most probable that the beloved disciple John was used by God not only to write the closing words of inspiration, but also to collect together those already written. Whether this be so or no, we know from many testimonies that by the middle of the second century all the books of the New Testament were known and read in the Christian assemblies. The Apostle’s life was lengthened out for about one hundred years, and during that time he had seen the Church in its pristine freshness and unity, as described in Acts 2:1-47, and seen also the corruption, declension, and decay which set in when, even at Ephesus, believers "left their first love." The letters to the "seven churches" in Revelation 2:1-29; Revelation 3:1-22 describe the departure from the truth of "all in Asia," and also supply the needed correction, not only for them, but for believers in all time, "till He come." If we divide the 1,300 years before us into two periods we shall better understand the methods of opposition given to the Book. The first period would last from Apostolic days down to the time of Constantine the Great. These were the years of the great Pagan persecutions.

Church historians have usually divided these into ten, reasoning that the prophetic word in Revelation 2:10, "ye shall have tribulation ten days," foretells in a mystic way the long period of sufferings under the savage rulers of heathen Rome.

Different authorities give different dates for these persecutions, but the most common reckoning is as follows:

1 Under Nero, A.D. 64.

2 Under Domitian, A.D. 95.

3 Under Trajan, A.D. 107.

4 Under Hadrian, A.D. 125.

5 Under Marcus Aurelius, A.D. 165.

6 Under Septimus Severus, A.D. 202.

7 Under Maximinus, A.D. 235.

8 Under Decius, A.D. 249.

9 Under Valerian, A.D. 257.

10 Under Diocletian, A.D. 303. But indeed the whole period of Early Christianity was one of persecution in some part of the Empire. The dates given above only indicate times of special outbreaks of the latent hatred shown to the followers of the Lord Jesus.

We find the beginning of this opposition in the Book of Acts. A few short weeks, or months at the most, after the Lord ascended to Heaven, we read of Stephen, the first martyr, being stoned to death. Saul, the persecutor, being, as he says himself, "exceedingly mad" against the believers, was making so close a search for them that he was entering into every house and committing men and women to prison and to death.

Ten years afterwards, Herod the King took up the work so dear to the hearts of the Jewish priests and "slew James the brother of John with the sword; and, when he saw that it pleased the Jews, he proceeded to take Peter also" (Acts 12:3). But Peter’s work was not finished, and Herod’s chains were but cobwebs when they resisted God’s purposes.

Space permits but a passing glance here and there as we hasten forwards.

Saul the persecutor was changed into Paul the Apostle, and by his ceaseless labours, ardent zeal, and tireless activity the Gospel had been preached in every quarter of the Roman Empire before his death, somewhere about the year A.D. 66. At this time Rome was ruled by possibly the most wicked man this world has ever seen. Nero had murdered his brother, his sister, his two wives, and his mother. His hands were red with the blood of assassination and murder. His morals were such as we may not describe. To his many misdeeds he added the burning of Rome, and then laid the blame on the Christians. And so began the first pagan persecution.

Now the Book and its followers are no longer confronted only by the Jewish priests in Palestine and elsewhere. They are face to face with the formidable power of the Roman Empire. So far, the imperial laws had been in their favour, impartially protecting those who were freemen from mob violence, as we see in Acts 18:12. But if there is "another King, one Jesus," Rome will take steps to protect herself by dooming to death all who confess His name. For to confess the name of Jesus was to be in the eyes of the authorities an enemy to Caesar. If they refused to worship Nero they were counted atheists. If the Alexandrian corn ships were delayed by contrary winds, the Christians were to blame. If it did not rain, or if it rained too much, it was they who had offended the gods. "If the Tiber overflowed its banks," says Tertullian, "or if the Nile did not, the cry was raised, ’The Christians to the lions.’" In addition to all this, the trade interests of the image makers, and all the craftsmen connected with the idol temples, were in danger if Christianity prevailed. Truly, it was no small undertaking to turn the ancient pagan Roman Empire "upside down," but Christianity did it. Not by force of arms was this accomplished, but by the power of the gospel of peace, and by the efforts of men and women who loved the Lord more than they loved their own lives. When the persecutors had done their worst, friends lovingly gathered the mangled bodies or scattered bones from the blood-stained sands of the arena, and conveyed them to those wonderful places of interment known as the Catacombs, which became, during the early days of Christianity, both the meeting places and the burying ground of the believers at Rome. It has been estimated that over three millions of graves exist in its vast galleries, whose intricate network of passages is believed to extend some 587 miles — a distance equal to the entire length of Italy.

We cannot trace in detail all the records of those early years. If we did, we should see exposed on the one hand the hatred of the human heart to the name of Jesus, and on the other we should be amazed at the numbers of men and women who fearlessly suffered and overcame all the cruelty that barbarous and savage persecutors could inflict. But if we look below the surface we shall see that the chief actor was Satan himself. After all, he has but two methods of opposition to the things of God. The one is violence. The other is corruption. For the first 300 years he tried the first method, and stirred up his servants to exterminate the Book of God and the followers of Jesus. But the blood of the martyrs has ever been the Seed of the Church, and like Israel of old, the more they were afflicted the more they multiplied and grew. So the 300 years of pagan persecution drag their leaden feet along the track of history. But we notice that the Christians are winning. All the tower of the Empire, backed by all the will of the rulers and supported by every effort of the governors in every province is unable to stamp out either the Book or the followers of the Book. On the other hand, the numbers of the believers are increasing so fast that Tertullian (A.D. 200) can challenge the oppressors by telling them, "We are but of yesterday and we have filled everything that is yours: cities, islands, castles, factories. . . . We have left you nothing but your temples."

Many standard-bearers fell in the battle front. If we may rely on history, all the Apostles but John died violent deaths. Ignatius, one of John’s disciples, was brought from Antioch to Rome to be thrown to the lions to make a Roman holiday in the year A.D. 107. Justin Martyr, with six companions, was beheaded in A.D. 163. Polycarp, with eleven fellow-sufferers, was burned alive at Smyrna in A.D. 167. The Emperor Marcus Aurelius, A.D. 161-180, has been much admired as a philosopher, but evidently he had not wisdom enough to see that, when he unjustly condemned to death men like Justin Martyr and Polycarp, he was destroying the noblest and most loyal of his subjects. In spite of his "philosophy," or because of it, he was one of the most cruel oppressors of the Early Church. Every year of his long reign was defiled with innocent blood. The Church at Lyons in France produced many faithful witnesses. The old writer says, Then were we all much alarmed because of the uncertain event of confession, not that we dreaded the torments with which we were threatened, but because we looked forward unto the end and feared the danger of apostacy."

Attalus, Maturus, and Sanctus sustained "tortures which exceed the power of description." Blandina, a female slave girl, shared in their sufferings and triumphs. After a whole day of tortures too terrible to narrate, she could only be compelled to say, "I am a Christian and there is no evil done among us." She was scourged, seated in a red-hot iron chair, then, still alive, thrown to the beasts, and so she won the crown of life.

Under Septimus Severus (A.D. 193-211) the stern edict was issued against the Christians, "It is not lawful for you to live," and the military despot who had marched to the throne over the murdered bodies of his nearest friends was not likely to allow such a law to remain a dead letter. From Lyons we must cross over to Carthage and listen to the touching words of the young and noble Perpetua, who with many others suffered at this time. "After a few days we were cast into prison. I was terrified, for I had never before been in such darkness. O miserable day! — from the heat of the crowded prisoners and the insults of the soldiers. But I was wrung with solicitude for my infant."

Later on in these affecting memoirs we read: "And the prison became to me like a palace, and I was happier there than anywhere else." "When the day of trial came," she proceeds, "we were placed at the bar, and my father came with my child, and said in a beseeching tone, ’Have compassion on your infant,’ and the procurator said, ’Spare the grey hairs of your parent; spare your infant; offer sacrifice for the Emperor.’ And I answered, I will not sacrifice.’

"’Art thou a Christian?’ said he.

"I answered, ’I am a Christian.’"

Hung up in a net, she was exposed to wild beasts to amuse the populace, and, when gored and torn, a gladiator was sent to put her to death. He added to her sufferings by clumsily wounding her in the side, and she herself finally guided the sword to her throat, thereby setting her free from further suffering. But it is in the closing years of the third century and the opening of the next that we see the most determined efforts put forth that ever were made to extinguish Christianity. At this time the Roman world was divided under four Emperors — Diocletian, Maximian, Constantius, and Galerius. We must take a glimpse at these before passing on. Two men are sitting alone in secret serious conference in the palace of Nicomedia. One of them is the old Emperor Diocletian, the other is his son-in-law Galerius. The younger is urging his proposals with vehemence. The elder is listening with apparent reluctance to what might well be, even to him, a revolting proposal. Galerius is insisting that the whole Christian community should be put outside of the laws, and that all who will not worship the Roman gods shall be burned alive. The winter of A.D. 302 was spent in frequent conferences. The prudent Diocletian proposing milder measures, Galerius urging on his scheme of fire and blood, until the old man finally gave away and allowed the storm to break.

"It was in the ninth year of Diocletian, in the month Xanticus, which one would call April, according to the Romans, about the time when the Paschal festival of our Saviour took place, that suddenly the Edicts were published — everywhere to raze the churches to the ground — to destroy the Sacred Scripture in the flames — to strip those that were in honour of their dignities — and to deprive freedmen of their liberty if any persisted in the Christian profession." The first Edict ordered the Sacred Books to be everywhere destroyed and the churches to be demolished. By a second Edict all bishops and ministers of churches were cast into prison. Shortly afterwards a more fearful act came into force. Magistrates were empowered to compel by torture all their prisoners to renounce Christianity and worship idols. New and hitherto unheard of torments were to be invented for this purpose. It was thought that if the shepherds yielded their flocks would follow. The next step was to extend this order so that it included every follower of Jesus, without distinction of rank, age, or sex. Multitudes were immediately imprisoned in every place, and the dungeons "formerly filled with criminals and murderers were now filled with bishops and presbyters, and deacons, readers and exorcists, so that there was no room left for the real criminals." This dreadful persecution extended to nearly every city and town of the Roman world. Even far away Britain had its confessors and martyrs. In Gaul alone, where ruled Constantius Chlorus (father of Constantine the Great), was there any respite.

It is a pleasure to contrast the life of this man with his three compeers. Many Christians were found in his own household, and when the first Edict was issued he ordered all who would not retract to quit his service. Then, contrary to all expectations, he dismissed the apostates and reinstated all who had held true to their faith, remarking that men who were faithful to God would be true to their Prince. "Neither did he demolish the churches, nor devise any other mischief against us, but protected pious persons under him from harm. At length he enjoyed a most happy and blessed death, being the only one of the four Emperors] who at his death did peaceably and gloriously leave the government to his own son."

Constantius Chlorus died at York in A.D. 306. It would be impossible to arrive at any estimate of the numbers who perished during the ten years that this persecution lasted. In one province alone 150,000 are said to have been put to death. Some villages entirely Christian were surrounded by soldiers and totally consumed by fire. In some cities the executions reached one hundred daily. Magistrates vied with each other in inventing new and excruciating forms of torture; but all to no purpose: the Christians would rather give up their lives than give up the Book of God.

Wearied at last with murder, the authorities authorised a more "humane" policy. Maiming was resorted to: many had their right hands cut off, and yet others one of their legs. But we must complete this sad story in the words of the old historian and eyewitness, who says: "To mention each name would be a long and tedious work, not to say impossible." The enemy had launched his master stroke and failed. God, who overrules all things, now laid His hand on the savage monster of cruelty, who so far had appeared to have all things his own way. "Galerius was smitten of God," Eusebius says, and some of his physicians, because they could not give him relief, were "slain without mercy."

"Then, struggling with so many miseries, he began to have compunction for the crimes he had committed against the pious . . . First of all he confessed his sin to the supreme God . . . then ordered that without delay they should stop the persecutions and hasten to rebuild the churches . . . and offer up prayers for the Emperor’s safety." The Christians might well hail this new Edict like a trump of liberty. It struck the fetters from those in the dungeons. It released the captives from the mines. Those still hiding in the dismal Catacombs were able once again to appear in the light of day, but above all, it was no longer death to be found reading the Book. But God is not mocked. Galerius died. Died as only few men in this world have died. It had to be said of him, as of Herod of old (Acts 12:23), "He was eaten of worms and gave up the ghost." History records the same fate of Antiochus Epiphanes, Herod the Great, Philip II. of Spain, and Lauderdale of the killing times in Scotland — all opposers of God and oppressors of His people.

Meantime Constantine was marching from far distant Britain. Slowly but surely his iron legions were closing in on the heart of the Empire. From Milan he issued the great decree of universal toleration. "We give," said he, "to the Christians, and to all, the free choice to follow whatever mode of worship they wish." Maxentius (son of Maximian), now ruler of Italy, was defeated at Turin, then again at Verona, and finally at the battle of Milvian Bridge near Rome, A.D. 312. Fleeing from the stricken field, the last of the oppressors, endeavouring to force his way across the crowded bridge, fell into the river and was smothered in Tiber mud. Next day Constantine entered Rome and became sole Emperor of the West. His brother-in-law, Licinius, was ruler of the East. With the supremacy of these two men, though both were pagans, pagan persecution ceased. Satan had endeavoured in vain to burn the Book. We shall see in our next chapter how he tried to banish it, and we shall see that he failed in this also.

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