For if you are silent concerning me, I shall become God’s; but if you show your love to my flesh, I shall again have to run my race. Pray, then, do not seek to confer any greater favor upon me than that I be sacrificed to God while the altar is still prepared; that, being gathered together in love, you may sing praise to the Father through Jesus Christ, that God has deemed me, the bishop of Syria, worthy to be sent for from the east unto the west, and to become a martyr in behalf of his own precious sufferings, so as to pass from the world to God that I may rise again unto him. (Ignatius, “The Epistle to the Romans,” chapter 2)
Ten Roman soldiers were escorting Ignatius from Syria to Rome, where he would undergo a trial with a predetermined verdict. The Roman emperor intended to use the public execution of Ignatius as a warning to his subjects to stay away from Christianity. But much more than he feared death, Ignatius feared the prayers of his fellow Christians. “I am afraid of your love,” he wrote in his letter to the Roman church in advance of his arrival, “lest it do me injury” (chap. 1). That injury would be their prayers pleading with God to rescue Ignatius from martyrdom.
The Road to Rome
The church in Antioch had become one of the most prominent congregations by the beginning of the second century. As its bishop, Ignatius pastored and protected Christians alongside the congregation’s elders, and gained a reputation for firm faithfulness. He was passionate about keeping the truth of the gospel clear and unchanged, which brought Ignatius into conflict with those who wanted the church to accommodate the culture’s ideas and the culture’s morality. When he was arrested on the emperor’s authority, many were glad to see him leave Antioch.
While on his journey to Rome, Ignatius stopped in Smyrna in Asia Minor. At the time, Christians were free to gather and to worship unless local Roman authorities viewed the church’s growth as a threat to the peace of the empire. Taking advantage of this freedom, several churches sent delegations to visit with Ignatius, and many Christians blessed him with gifts and fellowship. He wrote letters to churches that had encouraged him, reminding them to remain steadfast in the gospel of Christ and to keep all things in order under the authority of the bishop and elders.
The Wheat of God
Because Ignatius’s pilgrimage would come to its end in Rome, his letter to the Roman church has a more personal tone than the other epistles.
The Roman congregation would be planning to care for Ignatius upon his arrival and until his martyrdom, and perhaps some would be devising a plan to free him. But Ignatius had no interest in escaping martyrdom. He encouraged them to see his impending death not as a loss but as a gain for him: “Let fire and the cross; let the crowds of wild beasts; let breakings, tearings, and separations of bones; let cutting off of members; let bruising to pieces of the whole body; and let the very torment of the devil come upon me: only let me attain to Jesus Christ” (chap. 5).
These were not the exaggerations of a man looking to be venerated by the church, but genuine expressions of hope. Ignatius knew that at least some of those tortures awaited him, so he fixed his eyes on his Savior. He encouraged the Roman Christians to pray that his suffering would be swift, but not that his suffering could be avoided. In fact, he asked them to see his approaching martyrdom as one of the greatest gifts that Christ could give him:
Suffer me to become food for the wild beasts, through whose instrumentality it will be granted me to attain to God. I am the wheat of God, and am ground by the teeth of wild beasts, that I may be found the pure bread of God. . . . But when I suffer, I shall be the freed-man of Jesus Christ, and shall rise again emancipated in him. And now, being in bonds for him, I learn not to desire anything worldly or vain. (chap. 4)
All the ends of the world, and all the kingdoms of this earth shall profit me nothing. It is better for me to die for the sake of Jesus Christ, than to reign over all the ends of the earth. . . . Pardon me, brethren: do not hinder me in attaining to life; for Jesus is the life of believers. Do not wish to keep me in a state of death, for life without Christ is death. (chap. 6)
Beloved by God
Ignatius’s desire to die for the sake of Christ has encouraged generations of the church. But his plea to the Roman congregation that they not pray for his escape is worth debating nearly two thousand years after he wrote his epistle. Is it more righteous to pray that one would receive a martyr’s death? Or should Christians pray for God to provide the means of escape from persecution?
What is not in question is the prominent role of prayer during times of persecution, and there is much to be gained from reflecting on the power and the content of those prayers. Ignatius did not see the prayers of the Roman church as desperate, last-gasp attempts to change the will of God, but as powerful instruments through which God ordains the lives of his people. That is why he expressed his fear about the loving prayers of these believers—he expected God to graciously provide what they were requesting.
Indeed, it is when the world seeks to demonstrate its power through oppression and torment that the church’s strongest witness is to continue to pray, fully expecting the glory of God to be on display through their suffering. And for the Christian’s steadfastness, there is no greater need than the power of God to sustain him.
Only request in my behalf both inward and outward strength, that I may not only speak, but [truly] will, so that I may not merely be called a Christian, but really found to be one. For if I be truly found [a Christian], I may also be called one, and be then deemed faithful when I shall no longer appear in the world. . . . The Christian is not the result of persuasion, but of power. When he is hated by the world, he is beloved by God. (chap. 3)
If You Do Not Spare Me
Knowing the physical torment that waited him, Ignatius repeatedly exhorted the Roman church not to consider the comforts of the flesh to have greater importance than the comfort of resting in Christ. For as much as they loved Ignatius, their prayers for his escape from persecution were in danger of serving the devil’s schemes. Knowing his own frailties, Ignatius knew that the devil desired to weaken Ignatius’s resolve to bear witness to Christ in his death. If Ignatius clung to the things that are earthly and temporal, and thus displayed to his executioners too much anguish to leave this life, he would not be a firm witness to the hope he had in Jesus. He wrote, “It is difficult for me to attain to God if you do not spare me under the pretense of carnal affection” (chap. 1). In other words, the church’s loving prayers for his physical safety threatened his spiritual courage.
That is why, when considering the appropriate outlook on the remainder of his earthly pilgrimage, Ignatius turned to that well-loved question of Psalm 116: “What shall I render to the Lord for all his benefits to me?” The Lord’s greatest benefit to Ignatius was the gift of Jesus “who was delivered [to death] for my sake” (chap. 8), but Ignatius was not willing to degrade the value of that gift by refusing to offer himself willingly if God had so appointed his martyrdom. “For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul?” (Matt. 16:26, English Standard Version).
James Sinke is the pastor of Bethel United Reformed Church. He and his wife, Andrea, live in Woodstock, ON, with their four children.