Bishop Polycarp studied under the Apostle John

The heat was on. The Smyrna police hunted for Polycarp, the revered bishop of that city. Already they had put other Christians to death in the arena; now a mob cried for the leader.

Polycarp had left the city and was hiding out at the farm of some friends. As the soldiers moved in, he fled to another farm. Though the aged churchman felt no fear of death and had wanted to stay in the city, his friends had urged him to hide, perhaps fearing that his death would demoralize the church. If so, they were quite wrong.

When the police reached the first farm, they tortured a slave boy to learn Polycarp’s whereabouts. Then they rushed, fully armed, to apprehend the bishop. Though Polycarp had time to escape, he refused. “God’s will be done,” he resolved. Instead, he welcomed his captors as guests, offered them food and asked for an hour alone to pray. He took two hours.

Some of the captors seemed sorry to be arresting such a nice old man. On the way back to Smyrna, the police chief tried to reason with Polycarp: “What harm is there in saying, ‘Lord Caesar’ and offering incense?”

Polycarp announced calmly that he would not do it.

The Roman authorities had developed the idea that the spirit (or genius) of the emperor (Caesar) was divine. Most Romans, with their pantheon of gods, had no problem doing homage to the emperor, too; they saw it as a matter of national loyalty. But Christians knew this was idolatry.

Because the Christians refused to worship the emperor or the other gods of Rome and worshiped Christ quietly and secretly in homes, most people thought they had no faith. “Away with the atheists!” cried the people of Smyrna as they hunted down the Christians. Because they only knew that Christians didn’t participate in the many pagan festivals or perform the usual sacrifices, the crowd attacked this unpatriotic, impious group.

So Polycarp entered an arena filled with an angry mob. The Roman proconsul seemed to respect the bishop’s old age. Pilate-like, he wanted to avoid an ugly scene, if possible. If only Polycarp would perform the sacrifice, everyone could go home.

“Have respect for your age, old man,” the proconsul pleaded. “Swear by the fortune of Caesar. Change your mind. Say, ‘Away with the atheists!’ “
The proconsul obviously intended for Polycarp to save his own life by dissociating himself from those “atheistic” Christians. But Polycarp just gazed up at the jeering crowd, gestured toward them, and said, “Away with the atheists!”
The proconsul tried again: “Take the oath, and I shall release you. Curse Christ!”
The bishop stood firm. “Eighty-six years have I served him, and he never did me any wrong. How can I blaspheme my king who has saved me?”

Tradition has it that Polycarp had studied with the Apostle John. If so, he was probably the last living link with the apostolic church. About forty years earlier, when Polycarp began his ministry as bishop, the church father Ignatius had written him a special epistle. Polycarp had written an epistle of his own to the Philippians. Though it is not especially brilliant or original, it passes on the truths he had learned from his teachers. Polycarp didn’t exegete Old Testament texts, as later Christian scholars would, but he quoted the apostles and other church leaders to exhort the Philippians.

About a year before his martyrdom, Polycarp had traveled to Rome to patch up differences with the Roman bishop over the date of Easter. One story says he debated there with the heretic Marcion, whom he called “the firstborn of Satan.” His presentation of apostolic teaching is said to have converted several of Marcion’s followers.

That was Polycarp’s role: the faithful witness. Later leaders would come up with creative approaches to changing situations, but Polycarp’s era required only faithfulness. He was faithful unto death.

In the arena, the exchange continued between the bishop and the proconsul. At one point, Polycarp chided his inquisitor: “If you . . . pretend that you do not know who I am, listen plainly: I am a Christian. If you want to learn the teaching of Christianity, set a day and give me a hearing.”

The proconsul threatened to throw him to the wild beasts. “Call them,” said Polycarp. “If this were a change from the bad to the good, I would consider it, but not a change from the better to the worse.”

Threatened with fire, Polycarp countered, “Your fire burns for an hour and goes out, but the fire of the coming judgment is eternal.”
Finally, it was announced that Polycarp would not recant. The people of Smyrna cried, “This is the teacher of Asia, the father of the Christians, the destroyer of our gods, who teaches many not to sacrifice or to worship!”

The proconsul ordered the bishop to be burned alive. He was tied to the stake and the fire was set. But according to an eyewitness account, his body was not consumed. “He was in the middle, not as burning flesh, but as bread baking or as gold and silver refined in a furnace. And we smelled such a sweet aroma as the breath of incense or some other precious spice.” When an executioner stabbed him, the blood poured out and quenched the fire.

This account was distributed to congregations throughout the empire. The church treasured such reports and began to celebrate the lives and deaths of its martyrs, even collecting their bones and other relics. On February 23 of each year they commemorated Polycarp’s “birthday” into heavenly realms.

Over the next century and a half, as hundreds of other martyrs faithfully went to their deaths, many were buoyed up by the account of the faithful witness of the bishop of Smyrna.


Curtis, A., Lang, J. S., Petersen, R., & Curtis, J. S. L. A. K. (1998). 100 most important events in christian history, the. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker.