A disciple of Saint John the Evangelist and Bishop of Antioch, Saint Ignatius of Antioch, whose memory we celebrate today, October 17th, was torn to pieces by beasts in the amphitheatre of Rome. In Her first bloody steps, still small and weak in the eyes of men, the Church resisted like a courageous lioness.

Newsdesk (17/10/2023 15:08, Gaudium Press)The region of Palestine was part of the territories added by the Romans to their empire. Among the cities they conquered around the Sea of Galilee was Capernaum: a simple fishing village with houses built of large black stones. Our Lord did much of His work there.

On one occasion, returning from the Mount of the Transfiguration, Jesus came to the city with His Apostles and, knowing that they had argued among themselves as to who was the greatest, He asked them: “What were you discussing on the way?” (Mk 9:33). The best they could do was keep silent, for they were ashamed of themselves and their thoughts which had been so unfocussed on God, who was standing before them.

With adorable grandeur, Our Lord sat down and, calling the Twelve, He taught them: “If any one would be first, he must be last of all and servant of all” (Mk 9:35). And to add life to this teaching, transmitted on so many other occasions, the Divine Master put a child in the midst of the Apostles, embraced him and said: “Whoever receives one such child in My name receives Me; and whoever receives Me, receives not Me but Him who sent Me” (Mk 9:37).

This simple episode, which took place in a rustic fishing city, became the immortal example of humility and the paradigm for this virtue. And according to a beautiful tradition, the child who had the great privilege of being embraced by the Saviour became one of the greatest Saints of the apostolic era: Ignatius, Bishop of Antioch.

Innocence persecuted by villainy

This child, especially esteemed by Our Lord, became a follower of St. John the Apostle, the Beloved Disciple, and the second or third Bishop of Antioch, the city in which the followers of Christ were “for the first time called Christians” (Acts 11:26).

It was also in Antioch that St. Paul and St. Barnabas attained great success evangelizing pagans. And the first evangelizing missions would depart from this capital.

This was the site designated by Providence where St. Ignatius established a long and admirable government over the flock of the Church and exercised it until the Emperor Trajan, in the East, ordered ten soldiers to summon the venerable Bishop to Rome to the Flavian Amphitheatre, the famous Coliseum, to be martyred.

That innocent child, model of humility for the Apostles, would eventually be barbarously persecuted for being good, for being an authentic Catholic, for being a Saint! Innocence persecuted by villainy; gratuitous hatred of evil against the good.

Spiritual diary of a journey

In a time before the advent of rapid transportation, we can imagine the anguish of a person unjustly arrested, who trudges death’s road, heading toward an inevitably tragic end. Having access to a diary outlining the thoughts of such a person, especially if we knew he was a saint, would mean obtaining a true spiritual treatise.

This was the valuable legacy that St. Ignatius left us, for, in these very circumstances, he used the stops along the way to write letters to the various churches to whom he wished to counsel or address an exhortation.

Of the seven letters he wrote, and which are still extant, we are particularly interested in the one addressed to the Romans. Since the capital of the empire would be the place of his death, the holy Bishop dealt especially with the subject of martyrdom in this missive. It is the only one of his letters that is dated, written on August 24th, probably in the year 107 AD, during a stopover of the soldiers in the port city of Smyrna.

Using metaphorical language, St. Ignatius reveals how his voyage was progressing: “From Syria even unto Rome I fight with beasts, both by land and sea, both by night and day, being bound to ten leopards, I mean a band of soldiers, who, when goodness is shown to them, show themselves all the worse.”

“Allow me to become food for the wild beasts”

Shackled for love of Our Lord, the Saint affirms that the main reason for his writing to the Romans is to dissuade them from intervening in his judgement in an attempt to liberate him from the torments. This was precisely what he did not want: “I write to the churches, and impress on them all, that I shall willingly die for God, unless you hinder me. I beseech of you not to show an unseasonable good-will towards me.” How can a person not be afraid of death?

St. Ignatius was fully aware of the torments he might have to undergo, but nothing distressed him as much as feeling far from his Divine Master: “Do not hinder me from living, do not wish to keep me in a state of death; and while I desire to belong to God, do not give me over to the world.”

Indeed, his wish was heeded. In being devoured by the ferocious beasts, as he himself prophesied, his innocent soul once again encountered Him who had embraced him as a small child: “Allow 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 let me be ground by the teeth of the wild beasts, that I may be found the pure bread of Christ.”

The futile hatred of the Roman emperor is buried in history; the love of the venerable Bishop of Antioch, however, lives eternally with the Saviour. The grandeur of the Church of Christ overcame the powers of the time, showing who has true control over events: “Christianity, in being hated by the world, shows that it is not a work of persuasion, but of grandeur.” It is a grandeur that begins in the spirit of people like St. Ignatius and eventually influences and transforms all of society.

By Fr. Thiago de Oliveira Geraldo, EP

Text taken, with adaptations, from the magazine Heralds of the Gospel n.182. February 2017.

Compiled by Roberta MacEwan