In the Acts of St Colluthus, which record events in May 304 AD, the persecutor Arianus attempts to get Colluthus the physician to apostasise by sacrificing to the gods.
Not that Arianus, nor the emperor Diocletian who set him to work, actually believed in the gods. The demand was made precisely because it was known to be one that a Christian could not accept, and would cease to be a Christian if he did. Once he had done so, his Christian identity was gone. This tactic is a standard one, even today, wherever men do evil to each other, which is often these days.
As part of the process of confusing his victim, Arianus tells of other Christian leaders who have buckled and conformed:
There was Apollonius, the bishop of Siout; his people were most understanding about him, and took a dignified view of his prudence, since he did not wish to be disobedient, or to be brought to court and hear all this rigmarole, but he proceeded of his own accord into the temple and sacrificed in full view of every one, with the vessels of libation in his hand, standing there and offering up sacrifice; he is not at all ashamed, and every one honours him. . . . Then there was Plutarchus, the bishop of Sbeht; this man for the excellence of his wisdom is worthy of all respect. He was prudent and reverenced the Emperor’s gods, and offered up sacrifice to them; and look at him now! He is alive, with every one who sacrificed with him, and is bishop over them.
Arianus uses a standard tactic: isolate the victim, try to convince him that “everyone else is doing it”, and “nobody is watching” and “it’s just this once”. It is a warning to us that whatever course we are considering is a very bad one. And of course, once the victim agrees, there is the despair that accompanies a violated conscience, and suddenly “you did it before” becomes the game.
Colluthus also knows the tactic. Wisely he says as little as possible, wisely, except to refuse to sacrifice. The persecutor intends to try to confuse his victim. The only response is not to engage.
Interestingly we have a letter to this Apollonius of Siout (or Assiout) from his patriarch, Peter of Alexandria, rebuking him. It was published in 1973 by Henry Chadwick. 1 It is unusual that we have this. As Chadwick rightly observes:
It was natural for the church to remember with pride the names and ‘birthdays’ of the martyrs who had died in the great persecution, and equally natural that the names of apostates were not recorded. Lapse, whether by preference or by weakness, had taken them out of the community, and there could be nothing but grief and embarrassment in the later recall of their concession to diabolical forces. No one had a motive for advertising their number or even existence. There was every reason to hush up the awkward facts, especially if the apostate had been a divine of some eminence…2
The opening of the letter, which is all that we have, survives in Paris MS copte 131 (1), fol. 1r-v (online here). This is a single damaged leaf from a parchment codex, which has ancient page numbers on it – 67 and 68. The leaf is good quality and dates to the 9-10th century. The modern “manuscript” is actually a collection of leaves from the White Monastery in Sohag, purchased in Cairo from dealers in 1885. If so, possibly further leaves exist somewhere. It would be nice to have the rest of the letter! Anyone know?
Peter, it seems, was working hard to support his flock in this difficult time. He worked to support, against the attempts of the persecutors to isolate. He worked to get the victims to “bounce back” rather than allow their persecutors to use their integrity against him and despair. He asks plaintively why Apollonius allowed himself to be drawn in by the twisted words of the interrogator. He offers healing, instead of despair. This is a wise pastor at work.
Here is the English translation, from which I have removed brackets, italics, and so forth, and added paragraphing for readability:
. . . Epistle of … Peter the Archbishop of Alexandria, which he wrote to Apollonius the Bishop of Sioout after he heard that he had fallen away when he fell down into the pit of idolatry.
I am grieved indeed for this sheep who has strayed—or rather for this shepherd whom the evil hunter has caught and has caused him to stray to him … and has brought him low through the awakening of evil thoughts and the idolatry of those whom I consider to fall away through a fateful mis-step and to have betrayed their own selves. As for you, poor wretch, perhaps Apollinarius has dragged you down with him into the pit of destruction since the writing of your name and his begin with the same letters!
I am at a loss about you, where your wits have gone, that you have not had the wit to turn back and escape, and have not had the wit to exercise yourself and escape by means of others who have their wits about them, before you were ruined. If you had given yourself over to me before you were ruined, I would by all means have helped you, as I did in the case of another who came to me and I helped him, namely Basil the Persian.
When this man came in to us, he saw us in our chamber praying, and wondered at us. I said to him ‘Do you not worship God in this way?’ He said ‘No’. I said to him ‘What is the manner of your belief ?’ He said ‘I believe in the sun, and the moon, and water, and fire, as illuminators of the whole world.’ And when I heard this, I wept; and when I wept, my tears poured upon him, and I baptized him with them; and when he saw me weeping, he himself wept as well; and thus if was that he acknowledged the Godhead, and believed even as I had told him; and I evangelized him with the Faith.
But as for you, Apollonius, why have you not made haste to save yourself from the snare in which you have been caught ? If you had paid heed thoroughly, God would have given you strength. I wonder at you, that you should join in debate with the enemies of Him in Whose holy Name you were baptized.
Who has put this beast’s heart in you? I do not know.
You have established . . . a faith worthy of veneration. What has happened to you? Tell me! Speak to me, you who have been separated by error from the Godhead. Know the Faith of the Almighty! Say yourself, ‘My God, convert me … .’
It is truly a shame, the denial which has caught you in a trap, and something from which there is no escape. Who suggested to you treason like this? I had no intimation of your evil disposition before today; else I could not have borne to refrain from sending to you to correct you. In whom have you baptized, brother? Have you not baptized . . .
The fragment ends there. Both Apollinarius and Basil the Persian are otherwise unknown.
Here’s the beginning of the leaf. Note the words “Epistole” and “Petros” in column 1, lines 1 and 2.
H/t to Alin Suciu whose blog made me aware that the MS was online. Thank you!
- This was published in J. Barns & H. Chadwick, “A letter ascribed to Peter of Alexandria,” in: Journal of Theological Studies, New Series 24 (1973) pp. 443-455. URL: https://www.jstor.org/stable/23962128.[↩]
- Page 446.[↩]