Who (or What) Was Lucifer?

morning-starRecently I got a query from someone wondering about an anti-Catholic video that claimed “the pope’s deacon” invoked Lucifer during the Easter Vigil liturgy and referred to Jesus as his Son.

Of course, that’s not what happened, but to understand what really did happen, you need to know a few things about “lucifer.”

 

What does the word lucifer mean?

It’s a Latin word derived from the roots lux (light) and ferre (to carry).

It means “light-bearer” or “light-bringer,” and it was not originally used in connection with the devil.

Instead, it could be used multiple ways. For example, anybody carrying a torch at night was a lucifer (light-bringer).

It was also used as a name for the Morning Star (i.e., the planet Venus), because this is the brightest object in the sky other than the sun and the moon. As a result, Venus is the first star seen in the evening (the Evening Star) and the last star seen in the morning (the Morning Star).

Venus is also known—in English—as the Day Star because it can be seen in the day.

Because its sighting in the morning heralds the light of day, it was referred to by Latin speakers as the “light-bringer” or lucifer.

 

So there was no connection with the devil?

No. In fact, it was used as an ordinary name. Thus in the 300s, St. Lucifer of Cagliari was a defender of the deity of Christ and of St. Athanasius against the Arians.

Another bishop in the 300s—Lucifer of Siena—also bore this name.

 

Is the symbol of the Morning Star used in any surprising ways?

Yes. The Bible uses it as a symbol for Jesus Christ. In the book of Revelation, we read:

“I Jesus have sent my angel to you with this testimony for the churches. I am the root and the offspring of David, the bright morning star” (Rev. 22:16).

(Spoiler alert! This is going to play a key role in what we have to say about the liturgy.)

 

So we shouldn’t freak out just because we see references to the words “lucifer” or “light-bringer” or “morning star”?

No. They have no intrinsic connection to the devil. In fact, they may be used—as in Scripture itself—as symbols of Jesus Christ.

 

How did this word get connected with the devil?

It’s based on a passage in the book of Isaiah. Chapter 14 of that book contains a taunt (a kind of ancient insult song or poem—like you might find at a modern rap battle) against one of the oppressors of Israel: the king of Babylon.

It predicts his downfall, but it also depicts his pride, which sets him up for the downfall.

Thus we read:

How you are fallen from heaven,
O Day Star, son of Dawn!
How you are cut down to the ground,
you who laid the nations low! (Is. 14:12).

In the Latin Vulgate, that’s:

Quomodo cecidisti de caelo,
lucifer, fili aurorae?
Deiectus es in terram,
qui deiciebas gentes.

The king of Babylon thus fancies himself as something high and mighty—like the Day Star itself—but God brings him low in the end.

In this passage the reference to the Day Star/the Morning Star/lucifer is thus an ironic allusion to the king of Babylon’s prideful self-image.

 

But surely we’re talking about the human king of Babylon—not the devil. Doesn’t the passage refer to him as a man who dies?

Yes. This passage explicitly refers to the king of Babylon as a man (Heb., ’ish) who conquered kingdoms:

Those who see you will stare at you, and ponder over you:

“Is this the man who made the earth tremble, who shook kingdoms, who made the world like a desert and overthrew its cities, who did not let his prisoners go home?” (Is. 14:16-17).

It also refers multiple times to his decay after death and how he will not lie in his own tomb!

Your pomp is brought down to Sheol, the sound of your harps;
maggots are the bed beneath you, and worms are your covering” (Is. 14:11).

All the kings of the nations lie in glory, each in his own tomb;
but you are cast out, away from your sepulcher, like a loathed untimely birth (Is. 14:18-19).

So we’re talking about a human king—at least in the literal sense of the text.

 

How did this passage get connected with the devil?

Some of the early Church Fathers took it that way.

They compared the pride that the king of Babylon displays in the passage (“I will ascend above the heights of the clouds, I will make myself like the Most High”; Is. 14:14) with the pride of the devil.

They also compared the fall of the king of Babylon to Jesus statement that he “saw Satan fall like lightning” (Luke 10:18)—though in context that passage refers to the defeat of the devil in the ministry the apostles just engaged in.

It is legitimate to use the spiritual sense of this text as an application to the devil, but many people have lost sight of the literal sense of the text, which applies to the human king of Babylon.

Worse, in the popular mind “Lucifer” has simply become a name for the devil, and that causes problems when people who only know this use encounter other uses of the term—as in the Latin liturgy.

 

Is thus just a Catholic interpretation?

No. In fact, the Protestant Reformers Luther and Calvin acknowledged it.

Luther wrote:

12. How you are fallen from heaven, Lucifer! This is not said of the angel who once was thrown out of heaven but of the king of Babylon, and it is figurative language. Isaiah becomes a disciple of Calliope and in like manner laughs at the king. Heylel [the Hebrew word used in the text] denotes the morning star, called Lucifer and the son of Dawn. “Heaven” is where we are with our heads, and that is obviously above the ground, just as that most powerful and extremely magnificent king was once above, but now his lamp is extinguished (Luther’s Works 16:140; Preface to the Prophet Isaiah, ch. 14).

Calvin as quite hostile to the application of this passage to the devil, writing:

12. How art thou fallen from heaven! Isaiah proceeds with the discourse which he had formerly begun as personating the dead, and concludes that the tyrant differs in no respect from other men, though his object was to lead men to believe that he was some god. He employs an elegant metaphor, by comparing him to Lucifer, and calls him the Son of the Dawn; and that on account of his splendor and brightness with which he shone above others. The exposition of this passage, which some have given, as if it referred to Satan, has arisen from ignorance; for the context plainly shows that these statements must be understood in reference to the king of the Babylonians. But when passages of Scripture are taken up at random, and no attention is paid to the context, we need not wonder that mistakes of this kind frequently arise. Yet it was an instance of very gross ignorance, to imagine that Lucifer was the king of devils, and that the Prophet gave him this name. But as these inventions have no probability whatever, let us pass by them as useless fables (Commentary on Isaiah at 14:12).

 

So what have anti-Catholics claimed about the Easter Vigil liturgy?

Some have claimed that “the pope’s deacon” invoked Lucifer and described Jesus as the devil’s Son.

This claim is based on translating part of the Easter Vigil liturgy this way:

Flaming Lucifer who finds mankind;
I say O Lucifer, who will Never be defeated.
Christ is your Son, who came back from Hell;
shed his peaceful light and is alive and reigns in the world without end.

 

What’s the real story?

The pope does not have a personal deacon, though deacons can sing the part of the Easter Vigil liturgy known as the Exsultet, Easter Proclamation, or Paschal Proclamation. (Exsultet is its first word in Latin: “Let them exult!”)

You can read about it here.

The Exsultet is part of a ceremony involving the Paschal Candle, which symbolizes the light of Christ.

In Latin, the relevant part of the Exsultet reads:

Orámus ergo te, Dómine,
ut céreus iste in honórem tui nóminis consecrátus,
ad noctis huius calíginem destruéndam,
indefíciens persevéret.
Et in odórem suavitátis accéptus,
supérnis lumináribus misceátur.

Flammas eius lúcifer matutínus invéniat:
ille, inquam, lúcifer, qui nescit occásum.
Christus Fílius tuus,
qui, regréssus ab ínferis, humáno géneri serénus illúxit,
et vivit et regnat in sæcula sæculórum.

In good English (as opposed to the incompetent translation given by the anti-Catholic commentator), this means:

Therefore, O Lord,
we pray you that this candle,
hallowed to the honor of your name,
may persevere undimmed,
to overcome the darkness of this night.
Receive it as a pleasing fragrance,
and let it mingle with the lights of heaven.

May this flame be found still burning by the Morning Star:
the one Morning Star who never sets,
Christ your Son,
who, coming back from death’s domain,
has shed his peaceful light on humanity,
and lives and reigns for ever and ever.

Up to the first reference to the Morning Star, this passage of the Exsultet is asking God to let the Paschal Candle continue to give light, so that it still be burning in the morning (“May this flame be found still burning by the Morning Star”).

Then the prayer pivots to re-conceive of the Morning Star not as the literal one in the sky but as Jesus Christ himself, based on the symbol in Revelation 22:16 (“the one Morning Star who never sets, Christ your Son”).

It is a moving, poetic prayer to God—not an invocation of the devil.

Were the early Christians pacifists?

Men who came to Jesus: The Roman SoldierThere is a persistent claim that the early Christians were pacifists—in the strong sense of being opposed to all use of violence—and that it was not until the time of the Emperor Constantine that this began to change.

After Christianity became the official religion of the empire, the Church embraced the use of military force, with St. Augustine playing the part of the enabling villain, who came up with the idea of the just war.

This story plays with well-worn tropes: the fall from original innocence into corruption, the idea that Constantine corrupted the Church, that the Christianization of the empire was a bad thing, etc.

You may notice that these same tropes are often used in anti-Catholic apologetics stemming from the Protestant Reformation. That’s not surprising, since these tropes were needed to justify separation from the Church at the time of the Reformation.

It’s also not surprising that, relying on these same tropes, the denominations that historically have been strongly pacifistic stemmed from the Protestant community.

Most Protestants, of course, are not pacifists and recognize the legitimate use of military force, and there is a good reason for that: Protestants are the majority in many countries, just as Catholics are in others, and so they have been confronted with the task of ensuring the safety of their nations.

No nation can be safe if it is unwilling to use military force to defend itself. If, in the present, fallen state of the world, a nation were to suddenly renounce the use of military force and beat its swords into ploughshares, it would suffer a dire fate.

Either:

  • It would be conquered by its external enemies,
  • Its internal, criminal element would overrun it and turn it into a failed state,
  • Its more sensible-minded citizens would stage a coup and re-establish a government willing to use force to defend the nation, or
  • It would depend for its defense on another country that is less scrupulous about the use of force, making its safety and freedom dependent on the whims of that foreign state.

Any way you go, pacifism is not a stable, self-sustaining enterprise. It’s a dangerous world out there, and pacifists depend for their safety and security on the generosity and good will of non-pacifists.

Prior to the Christianization of the Roman empire, many Christians were not faced with the responsibility of defending the public and ensuring public order. As a result, some authors of this period had the luxury of entertaining pacifistic ideals without having to worry about keeping people safe.

But were they all in this condition? What about those Christians who were in the military?

What about the era of the New Testament itself? What attitude toward military service did it take?

Is the idea of a uniformly pacifist early Church accurate? Or does it distort what actually happened?

Here’s a video in which I take on the subject.

Click here to watch the video in your browser.

Some Notes from Clement of Alexandria

clementalexClement of Alexandria was a figure who flourished in the second half of the second century and the beginning of the third (c. A.D. 150 – c. 215).

We have some of his works, some are lost, and some are preserved in fragments.

Among the fragments, he makes a number of interesting claims.

All of what follows is to be taken with a grain of salt, as indicating possibilities, not necessarily probabilities or much less certainties.

 

On Mark

He writes:

Mark, the follower of Peter, while Peter publicly preached the Gospel at Rome before some of Caesar’s equites [i.e., knights], and adduced many testimonies to Christ, in order that thereby they might be able to commit to memory what was spoken, of what was spoken by Peter, wrote entirely what is called the Gospel according to Mark.

Key points: Says that Mark (1) wrote at Rome, (2) based on Peter’s preaching, (3) while Peter was preaching.

In another fragment, he writes (according to Eusebius):

So, then, through the visit of the divine word to them, the power of Simon [Magus] was extinguished, and immediately was destroyed along with the man himself.

And such a ray of godliness shone forth on the minds of Peter’s hearers, that they were not satisfied with the once hearing or with the unwritten teaching of the divine proclamation, but with all manner of entreaties importuned Mark, to whom the Gospel is ascribed, he being the companion of Peter, that he would leave in writing a record of the teaching which had been delivered to them verbally; and did not let the man alone till they prevailed upon him; and so to them we owe the Scripture called the Gospel by Mark.

On learning what had been done, through the revelation of the Spirit, it is said that the apostle [Peter] was delighted with the enthusiasm of the men, and sanctioned the composition for reading in the Churches. Clement gives the narrative in the sixth book of the Hypotyposes.

Key points: Says that Mark wrote (1) after the fall of Simon Magus (in his conflict with Peter at Rome), (2) was asked to produce the Gospel of Mark based on Peter’s oral preaching, (3) received approval afterward from Peter, who was therefore still alive.

 

On the Gospels in General

According to Eusebius:

Again, in the same books Clement has set down a tradition which he had received from the elders before him, in regard to the order of the Gospels, to the following effect. He says that the Gospels containing the genealogies were written first, and that the Gospel according to Mark was composed in the following circumstances:—

Peter having preached the word publicly at Rome, and by the Spirit proclaimed the Gospel, those who were present, who were numerous, entreated Mark, inasmuch as he had attended him from an early period, and remembered what had been said, to write down what had been spoken. On his composing the Gospel, he handed it to those who had made the request to him; which coming to Peter’s knowledge, he neither hindered nor encouraged. But John, the last of all, seeing that what was corporeal was set forth in the Gospels, on the entreaty of his intimate friends, and inspired by the Spirit, composed a spiritual Gospel.

Key points: He says that the Gospels of Matthew and Luke (“the Gospels containing the genealogies”) were written first. This view is uncommon today, but it is endorsed by what is known as the Griesbach hypothesis. Other patristic sources do not hold Clement’s position but advocate either Mark being written first or the canonical sequences of Matthew, Mark, Luke.

As before, Mark is said to have written upon request based on the preaching of Peter. However, there are two additional points: (1) He was asked to write because he “remembered what had been said” and (2) Peter “neither hindered nor encouraged” this.

The first point differs from the Griesbach hypothesis, which holds either that Mark combined and shortened Matthew and Luke or, in one variant, that Peter did so and Mark had Peter transcribed. Both of these differ from what Clement says, which is that Mark wrote it, apparently without Peter’s involvement, because “he remembered what had been said” by Peter in his preaching.

In view of this, it would appear better to describe Clement as an advocate of the Independence hypothesis who appears to have held to the same order proposed by the Griesbach hypothesis.

His previous statement about Peter endorsing it would presumably be explained by supposing that Peter initially did not endorse it but later did.

On John, Clement holds that he wrote last of all, with knowledge of what was written in the other Gospels. He further holds that he did so based on the requests of friends, and that he wrote a deliberately different sort of Gospel (a “spiritual” rather than a “corporeal” one).

 

On Luke

He writes:

As Luke also may be recognized by the style, both to have composed the Acts of the Apostles, and to have translated Paul’s Epistle to the Hebrews.

Key points: Regards Luke as being putting Hebrews in its final (Greek) literary form, with Paul ultimately behind it.

In another fragment, he writes (according to Eusebius):

And he says that the Epistle to the Hebrews is Paul’s, and was written to the Hebrews in the Hebrew language; but that Luke, having carefully translated it, gave it to the Greeks, and hence the same coloring in the expression is discoverable in this Epistle and the Acts; and that the name Paul an Apostle was very properly not prefixed, for, he says, that writing to the Hebrews, who were prejudiced against him and suspected, he with great wisdom did not repel them in the beginning by putting down his name.

Key points: Reinforces above claim, indicating that the original was written in “Hebrew” (probably Aramaic). Claims that Paul’s name was not affixed because of Jewish prejudice against him.

This latter seems unlikely, as the author of the letter expects the readers to know who he is, as he conveys greetings to them from various people, including Timothy. Would an anonymous person convey greetings from mutual acquaintances and not expect the readers to know or ask who wrote the letter? Giving the greetings from these acquaintances–and Judaizers would be equally hostile to Timothy as a companion of Paul–would only raise the question of the identity of the author and undermine the attempt to win them by impersonal argument. If Paul had a role in this letter, his name was omitted for some other reason.

 

On Jude

He writes:

Jude, who wrote the Catholic Epistle, the brother of the sons of Joseph, and very religious, while knowing the near relationship of the Lord, yet did not say that he himself was His brother. But what said he? Jude, a servant of Jesus Christ,— of Him as Lord; but the brother of James. For this is true; he was His brother, (the son) of Joseph.

Key points: Regards Jude (and by implication, James the Just) as sons of Joseph and thus step-brothers rather than cousins of Jesus.

 

On 1 John

He writes:

Following the Gospel according to John, and in accordance with it, this Epistle also contains the spiritual principle.

What therefore he says, from the beginning, the Presbyter explained to this effect, that the beginning of generation is not separated from the beginning of the Creator.

Key points: He may be regarding the author of 1 John (or even the Gospel of John) as John “the Presbyter,” who a number of Fathers (including Jerome) regarded as the author of 2 and 3 John (see Jerome’s Lives of Illustrious Men ch.s, 9 and 18). Former Pope Benedict XVI concurs on John the Elder writing 2 and 3 John and holds that he was the final author of the Gospel of John, though he holds it was based on the memories of John son of Zebedee (see Jesus of Nazareth, vol. 1).

 

On 2 John

He writes:

The second Epistle of John, which is written to Virgins, is very simple. It was written to a Babylonian lady, by name Electa, and indicates the election of the holy Church.

Key points: He holds that the epistle was written to a specific lady (a “Babylonian”–Roman? Chaldean?) named “Electa” (Greek, “chosen”). This view is not generally held today, and it is supposed that the “Elect Lady” or “Chosen Lady” is a symbol of a local church and that the reference to her “children” are a reference to her members (this would work better than the idea that the letter was written to “to virgins,” as represented by a woman named Electa if Electa had children).

 

On the Baptism of the Apostles

He writes:

Yes, truly, the apostles were baptized, as Clement the Stromatist relates in the fifth book of the Hypotyposes. For, in explaining the apostolic statement, I thank God that I baptized none of you  [in 1 Corinthians] he says, Christ is said to have baptized Peter alone, and Peter Andrew, and Andrew John, and they James and the rest.

Key points: This would answer a longstanding question of whether the apostles were baptized. The importance of baptism being such that Jesus himself was baptized, and it being a universal command among Christians, one would think that they were, but the Gospels are silent on this matter. (Though Acts does record that Paul was baptized.)

Whether it happened, and, if so, whether Clement’s account of how it happened, though, is another matter.

 

On Barnabas

He writes:

To James the Just, and John and Peter, the Lord after His resurrection imparted knowledge (τὴν γνῶσιν.) These imparted it to the rest of the apostles, and the rest of the apostles to the Seventy, of whom Barnabas was one.

Key point: Identifies Barnabas as one of the Seventy mentioned in Luke’s Gospel. This is not the way Luke introduces Barnabas in Acts. There he presents him as a native of Cyprus (Acts 4:36). Other traditions also may suggest he was not one of the Seventy, though it is possible.

 

On James the Just

We saw above that he identified James the Just as a step-brother of Jesus.

He also records this concerning the death of James the Just:

And of this James, Clement also relates an anecdote worthy of remembrance in the seventh book of the Hypotyposes, from a tradition of his predecessors. He says that the man who brought him to trial, on seeing him bear his testimony, was moved, and confessed that he was a Christian himself. Accordingly, he says, they were both led away together, and on the way the other asked James to forgive him. And he, considering a little, said, Peace be to you and kissed him. And so both were beheaded together.

 

On the Date of the Last Supper and the Crucifixion Relative to Passover

Passover was the 14th of Nisan, and John presents the Crucifixion as happening on this day and the Last Supper on the previous day. Yet the synoptics present the Last Supper as a Passover meal. How this can be squared is a longtime subject of discussion.

According to Clement:

Accordingly, in the years gone by, Jesus went to eat the passover sacrificed by the Jews, keeping the feast. But when he had preached He who was the Passover, the Lamb of God, led as a sheep to the slaughter, presently taught His disciples the mystery of the type [i.e., the Passover lamb] on the thirteenth day, on which also they inquired, Where will You that we prepare for You to eat the passover? (Matthew 26:17) It was on this day, then, that both the consecration of the unleavened bread and the preparation for the feast took place. Whence John naturally describes the disciples as already previously prepared to have their feet washed by the Lord. And on the following day our Savior suffered, He who was the Passover, propitiously sacrificed by the Jews. . . .

Suitably, therefore, to the fourteenth day, on which He also suffered, in the morning, the chief priests and the scribes, who brought Him to Pilate, did not enter the Prætorium, that they might not be defiled, but might freely eat the passover in the evening. With this precise determination of the days both the whole Scriptures agree, and the Gospels harmonize. The resurrection also attests it. He certainly rose on the third day, which fell on the first day of the weeks of harvest, on which the law prescribed that the priest should offer up the sheaf.

Key point: Clement sees Jesus as performing the Last Supper on the 13th of Nisan and teaching the disciples “the type” of the Passover lamb on this day. That is, he held the Last Supper as an anticipation, or early celebration, of the Passover meal–pointing to what would happen the next day, when the Passover lambs would be slaughtered and he would be Crucified.

This is my understanding as well. (It also is former Pope Benedict XVI’s.)

 

On the Candlestick/Menorah of the Temple

He writes:

The candlestick which stood at the south of the altar signified the seven planets, which seem to us to revolve around the meridian, on either side of which rise three branches; since the sun also like the lamp, balanced in the midst of the planets by divine wisdom, illumines by its light those above and below. On the other side of the altar was situated the table on which the loaves were displayed, because from that quarter of the heaven vital and nourishing breezes blow.

Key points: He identifies the seven branches of the candlestick/menorah with the seven classical planets (i.e., celestial bodies that change their position relative to the fixed stars). These were the sun, the moon, Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn–the only ones visible to the naked eye. He identifies the sun, the most important of the seven, with the middle branch of the lamp, with three on each side.

 

St. Ambrose: Strangest Life Story Ever? (8 things to know and share)

St_AmbroseSt. Ambrose’s memorial is December 7th.

He was one of the four original doctors of the Church, and he baptized St. Augustine.

He also had perhaps the strangest life story of any of the Church Fathers!

Here are 8 things to know and share . . .

 

1) Who was St. Ambrose?

St. Ambrose of Milan was born around A.D. 338 and died in 397.

He was the bishop of Milan, Italy.

 

2) What makes is his life story so strange?

Originally, he was a government official, he became bishop in a most extraordinary way.

After the death of the local bishop, the Catholics and Arians got into a vehement conflict about who should be the new bishop.

Ambrose was trying to keep the peace and settle the two groups down when someone—allegedly a small boy—began chanting “Ambrose, bishop!”

Soon the two groups began chanting together that Ambrose should be the new bishop.

(The Arians, apparently, felt that although Ambrose was Catholic in belief he would be a kinder bishop than they otherwise would likely get.)

This set of circumstances is extraordinary enough, but what’s even more extraordinary is that Ambrose wasn’t even a Christian yet. He was an unbaptized catechumen!
3) Can it get any stranger?

Yes it can!

KEEP READING!

Whoa! 1st Century Info About Mark’s Gospel!

St. Mark is thought to have based his Gospel on what he learned as the companion of St. Peter. Would it surprise you to know that there is a 1st century source that says exactly this?

It is traditionally held that Mark wrote his gospel based on information he learned from St. Peter, after having been his travelling companion.

Where does this claim come from?

And would it surprise you to know that we have a first century source that claims precisely this?

Here’s the story . . .

 

What We Know About Mark 

We know that Mark was a travelling companion of Peter, because Peter mentions the fact in his First Epistle (1 Peter 5:13).

We also know that Mark was a travelling companion of other apostles, including Paul and Barnabas, which Luke discussed in Acts.

Mark may have even been an eyewitness of part of Jesus’ earthly ministry. It is often thought that he refers to himself, anonymously, in his own gospel, as the man carrying a jug of water on his head or as the man who slips out of his clothes and runs away naked on the night Jesus is arrested.

Also, as Luke mentions in Acts, Mark’s mother was prominent in the early Christian community, which at times met at their house in Jerusalem.

So why would we suppose that Mark got the information from St. Peter in particular?

 

The Origin of the Claim

The claim is found today in the writings of Eusebius of Caesarea, the so-called “father of Church history.” Specifically, it’s found in his multi-book set Church History (a.k.a. Ecclesiastical History).

Eusebius wrote this work just before the First Council of Nicaea (A.D. 325). He finished it about A.D. 324.

The claim concerning Mark’s Gospel is earlier than that, though, because in the relevant passage of Church History, Eusebius is quoting an earlier writer, named Papias.

 

Who?

We don’t know as much about Papias as we’d like. He was a second century figure who served as the bishop of Hierapolis. This was a town in modern Turkey that is near Laodicea and–a bit more distantly–Ephesus and the other “seven churches of Asia” mentioned in Revelation.

Papias is known for having conducted a series of interviews with people who knew Jesus and his immediate disciples, thinking he could learn more by doing so than just by reading books alone.

He recorded his thoughts in a multi-volume work called Interpretations of the Sayings of the Lord.

This work is now lost, but parts of it survive in quotations in other authors, including Eusebius.

For our purposes, a key point is when he wrote: He is thought to have written the Interpretations of the Sayings of the Lord around A.D. 120-130 (or even earlier).

That carries our tradition about Mark’s connection to Peter back to the early second century.

But we can carry it back further than that, because Papias was basing his book on earlier traditions, and in this case he names his source for this tradition.

 

The Presbyter?

Here is the relevant passage from Eusebius’s Church History. I’ve labelled who is speaking to make the source of particular words more obvious.

[Eusebius:] But now we must add to the words of his which we have already quoted the tradition which he [that is, Papias] gives in regard to Mark, the author of the Gospel.

[Papias:] “This also the presbyter said:

[The Presbyter:] ‘Mark, having become the interpreter of Peter, wrote down accurately, though not in order, whatsoever he remembered of the things said or done by Christ. For he neither heard the Lord nor followed him, but afterward, as I said, he followed Peter, who adapted his teaching to the needs of his hearers, but with no intention of giving a connected account of the Lord’s discourses, so that Mark committed no error while he thus wrote some things as he remembered them. For he was careful of one thing, not to omit any of the things which he had heard, and not to state any of them falsely.'”

[Eusebius:] These things are related by Papias concerning Mark [Church History 3:39:14-15].

So Eusebius is quoting Papias, and Papias is quoting a figure called “the Presbyter.”

Who is that?

 

Meet the Presbyter

“The Presbyter” is identified by Eusebius in the sentence immediately before the ones we quoted, where Eusebius writes:

Papias gives also in his own work other accounts of the words of the Lord on the authority of Aristion, who was mentioned above, and traditions as handed down by the presbyter John, to which we refer those who are fond of learning.

This individual–known as “John the Presbyter” or “John the Elder” (the Greek word presbuteros can be translated both ways)–is identified by Papias as a disciple of Jesus who was apparently distinct from John the Apostle.

A bit earlier, Eusebius quoted another passage from Papias, in which the second century author explained his interview method:
If, then, any one came, who had been a follower of the elders, I questioned him in regard to the words of the elders—what Andrew or what Peter said, or what was said by Philip, or by Thomas, or by James, or by John, or by Matthew, or by any other of the disciples of the Lord, and what things Aristion and the presbyter John, the disciples of the Lord, say. For I did not think that what was to be gotten from the books would profit me as much as what came from the living and abiding voice [Church History 3:39:4].

Here Papias identifies John the Presbyter as a disciple of the Lord distinct from the previously-mentioned apostles, including John the Apostle.

 

Into the First Century

As we noted, Papias is writing c. A.D. 120-130 (or earlier), but he’s quoting the earlier source John the Presbyter.

That pushes the date of the tradition regarding the origin of Mark’s Gospel into the first century.

Remember: John the Presbyter is identified by Papias as one of “the disciples of the Lord,” which is why he was interested in interviewing him to find out what he said about Jesus’ teachings.

He and Aristion were, apparently, people who knew Jesus but who didn’t end up being appointed as apostles. They were, however, companions of apostles, just as Mark and Luke were.

And so it’s not surprising that John the Presbyter–a contemporary of St. Mark, one who lived at the same time Mark wrote his gospel–would have information about how Mark’s Gospel came to be.

In any event, we’re dealing with a first century tradition regarding the origin of Mark’s Gospel.

And maybe something even more than that.

Stay tuned for our next post.

CLICK HERE TO READ PART 2!

 

One of the Most Beautiful Stories I Know . . .

St. John: Apostle of Love

There are many gems in the writings of the Church Fathers. Some are valuable because of their insight into faith, others are valuable because they fill in things not mentioned in the Bible, and some are valuable because of their spiritual beauty.

Here is one about the Apostle John, who is sometimes called the Apostle of Love. This story alone would earn him that nickname.

It records an incident late in his life, and it is found in the writings of Clement of Alexandria, who wrote only a hundred years afterward and who obtained it from earlier sources.

It may well be true, but whatever degree of historical reliability it has, it touches on powerful human emotions, and it is undeniably beautiful.

The following account is taken from section 42 of Clement of Alexandria‘s work Who Is the Rich Man That Shall Be Saved? It begins with John helping a young man out by entrusting his care to a bishop in Asia Minor. . . .

KEEP READING . . .

Which Historical Church Figure Has the Best Superhero Name?

Over on Facebook, someone writes:

So which church father (or any saint, I suppose) has the coolest super hero name?

If you want cool superhero names, I'd broaden it beyond just saints and church Fathers, because some historical figures have some really cool superhero names. Here are some of my favorites:

  • Johann Wessel (d. 1489) a.k.a. Doctor Contradictionum
  • Francis Mayron (d. 1325) and Raymond Lully (d. 1315), a.k.a. Doctor Illuminatus (they had an Earth-1, Earth-2 thing going, apparently)
  • Petrus Thomas (d. 14th cent.) a.k.a. Doctor Invincibilis
  • Albertus Magnus (d. 1280) a.k.a. Doctor Magnus
  • St. Bonaventure (d. 1274) a.k.a. Doctor Seraphicus
  • Alanus of Lille (d. 1202) a.k.a. Doctor Universalis

Francis Mayron was also known as Doctor Abstractionum.

So there's quite a bit of superhero cool in the naming department for many Church figures.

MORE HERE.