A Reflection for the Memorial of St. Ignatius of Antioch
Find today’s readings here.
Today the church celebrates the feast of St. Ignatius—not the one you read about most in America, but St. Ignatius of Antioch, the Syrian bishop and martyr who, by tradition, was mauled by lions in Rome in the early second century. Most of what we know about Ignatius’s life comes from his own writing and a few secondhand sources, which serve as indispensable glimpses into early Christian life and theology.
I have recently felt a particular devotion to Ignatius’ generation of Christians. Unlike the apostles and disciples who knew Jesus during his life and public ministry, people like Ignatius did not enjoy such a relationship with the Lord. They had to be introduced to him and his story secondhand. Many scholars suggest that Ignatius himself would have known St. John, the Apostle. Perhaps it is no coincidence that John’s Gospel is the only one to include the story of Doubting Thomas, where Jesus, with a finger still in his side, says to Thomas, “Have you come to believe because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed.”
Can you imagine what it would have been like to be one of the first people to hear about Jesus who had not personally seen or witnessed his ministry, life, death and resurrection?
But that belief first requires an introduction from another. Can you imagine what it would have been like to be one of the first people to hear about Jesus who had not personally seen or witnessed his ministry, life, death and resurrection? How on fire must the apostles and first evangelists have been? Especially in a climate of persecution in parts of the Roman Empire, their witness must have been credible enough to inspire the first converts’ bravery.
In today’s Gospel, we hear Jesus tell some Pharisees who are criticizing him for not participating in a pre-meal washing ritual: “Although you cleanse the outside of the cup and the dish, inside you are filled with plunder and evil.”
In a similar way, St. Ignatius of Antioch wrote in his letter to the Magnesians, “We have not only to be called Christians, but to be Christians.” The relationship between our interior disposition, our outward actions and our identities are all connected. And when they sing together in harmony, it might just be enough to convince a stranger to believe in and follow a God and a love they’ve never met before.
