Book Review: The Myth of Persecution
Candida Moss, The Mythof Persecution: How Early Christians Invented a Story of Martyrdom. New York, NY: HarperOne, 2013. 308 pages. $25.99.
If the person who wrote the publicity materials that accompaniedThe Myth of Persecution: How EarlyChristians Invented a Story of Martyrdom wanted to provoke readers, thestrategy worked. The lede asserted, “It’s widely accepted that the historyof Christianity is steeped in martyrdom. Jesus died on the cross. Most of hisApostles met gory and untimely ends. Many of his early followers wererelentlessly and gruesomely persecuted for their beliefs. But what if thishistory is false? What if many of these stories were systematicallyexaggerated, forged, and fabricated?” If ever an antecedent mattered, the “thishistory” is such an instance. The reader assumes that the book will argue thatJesus didn’t die on the cross and that most of his apostles did not meetuntimely ends.
The book’sauthor, Candida Moss (PhD, Yale), Professor of New Testament and EarlyChristianity at Notre Dame and author of a number of works on martyrdom, arguesneither. Rather, in her book’s eight chapters—which come with an introduction,generous footnotes, and an index—she looks only at early Christian stories ofpersecution. These she analyzes with the eye of a critical historian seeking todetermine what “really” happened. In doing so she sets out to convince herreader that the writers of persecution stories fabricated, altered, andembellished their narratives. Interestingly, she never argues that they“invented them.” And Moss makes her case in order to call contemporaryChristians to avoid thinking of themselves as having always been persecuted.She believes this history prevents them from engaging in dialogue with andfinding common ground with opponents, particularly in the political arena.
In herfirst chapter, “Martyrdom Before Christianity,” Moss tells a story about howshe questioned the events of Jesus’ suffering and death as a young student in areligious studies class. Her teacher appealed to Jesus’ followers’ willingness tosuffer and die as evidence for the veracity of their claims. This appeal Mossinterprets as her teacher asserting a commonly held belief (in the author’smind) that only Christians have ever died for their beliefs. Thus, Moss devotesher first chapter to arguing that Christians did not invent the idea ofmartyrdom (25). But it seems to this reader that she misunderstood herteacher’s logic—or at least the logic of those who appeal to the disciples’martyrdom as validating the historical events of Christianity. It seems morelikely that the apologetic logic goes like this: if the disciples fabricated a lie about the resurrection, surely at least one of them would have confessed tothe lie in order to save his own life in the face of death. Jesus’ and thedisciples’ martyrdom suggested they truly believed the story about which theygave witness—not that they were the only ones who had ever died for theirbeliefs. What follows in Moss’s book, then, feels like a straw man. She describesnoble deaths from the Trojan War to Socrates to The Maccabees to support herassertion that people other than Christians have died for causes in which theybelieved and that Christians even “adopted, borrowed, and even directly copiedfrom these other traditions” (53).
The idea ofunoriginal work forms the basis for her next chapter, “Borrowing of Jewish andPagan Traditions.” Moss reveals her theological presuppositions in statementssuch as, “These sorts of theological discrepancies can be quite alarming foranyone who views the Bible as inerrant” (56). No. They aren’t. And her viewof the text affects her understanding of its origins. After arguing that Luke did“heavy-handed editorial work” when borrowing Jesus’ death account from Mark, shemakes the outlandish assertion, “Every time someone is referred to or describedas dying like Christ they are actually dying like Socrates and the Maccabees”(62). Even if Luke crafted his narrative to emphasize ways in which Jesus wasthe ultimate philosopher, one must not necessarily see Luke’s doing so as disingenuous as Moss seems to do.
In the author’s third chapter,“Inventing Martyrs in Early Christianity,” Moss gets to the subject her titleraises. And the very assertion that early Christians “invented” stories she fails tosupport. Rather, she concludes, “None of the early Christian martyrdom storiesis completely historically accurate. Even if portions of the accounts arepossible and even probable, we can’t be sure that they provide us with accurateinformation” (124). The complete accuracy of martyrdom stories is an altogetherdifferent subject from the “invention” of them, and one of somewhat lessimportance to the Christian practice of Protestants than Roman Catholics. Although Mosshas argued that in seeking to debunk the ancient stories, “it’s unfair” indeed“anachronistic” to “hold ancient writers to modern standards of historywriting” (93), she goes on to do precisely that. Nevertheless, she concludes herlook at embellished stories with the assurance that the presence of alterations“does not mean, however, that there were no martyrs at all or that Christiansnever died. It is clear that some people were cruelly tortured and brutallyexecuted for reasons that strike us as profoundly unjust. The question is howmany” (125). But indeed, the question is not how many. The question this authorhas raised in her very title is whether Christians, in fact, “invented” thestory of martyrdom. The word “invented” suggests they made them all up, orcreated them. And she herself demonstrates that Christians did not, in fact,invent such stories. Martyrdom did happen and it continues to take place withalarming frequency.
In chapter four, “How PersecutedWere the Early Christians?” Moss concludes that readers should not “underestimatethe reality” of persecution (160). This seems to contradict her premise. Sheeven concedes that the earliest Christians were, in fact, tortured and executedin appalling ways. But she challenges the idea that these Christians enduredsustained persecution on an imperial orprovincial level. While her argumentation about the realities for Christiansunder Roman rule might prove a helpful corrective, she has so thoroughly downplayedthose times when Christians actually did die due to active imperial measuresthat she makes it difficult for the reader to trust her. Also, although one canconcede to a difference in degree between a law that prohibits a Christian fromholding office and letting lions devour them, Moss refuses to concede that theformer constitutes a form of persecution. Since the imperial government did nottarget Christians for a sustainedperiod, early Christians, she seems to think, hardly endured difficulty onaccount of their faith. Additionally, her subtitle asserts that the earlyChristians themselves invented their story of martyrdom. But in this chapter sheargues that the stories were written later than was previously thought andaltered or embellished even later. The “early” Christians invented nothing.
In “Why Did the Romans DislikeChristians?” Moss argues that the reputation ofChristians in the Roman world was that of recluses who refused to swear oathsand serve in the military. Consequently, their beliefs sometimes led to execution,as would the actions of anyone failing to perform a civic duty. Suchkillings Moss separates from persecution. But if one defines persecution assuffering for one’s religious beliefs, this reader would argue that theirexperience would most certainly qualify both as persecution and even martyrdom.So what if the government did not target Christians specifically in such cases?
Moss has built her case thatChristians have exaggerated their history of enduring government opposition bylimiting what experiences qualify as persecution and martyrdom. She concludesthat, except for the climax of the Great Persecution in the early fourthcentury, nothing in the Roman treatment of early Christians “fits with thecommonly held myth of Christian martyrdom” (187). Interestingly, the GreatPersecution receives little attention. But if one argues that Christiansfabricated the story of their own persecution, doesn’t the reality of a “GreatPersecution” deserve a full chapter? She seems to gloss over whatever seems tocontradict her argument.
In “Mythsabout Martyrs,” the author builds a straw man about motivations for enduringmartyrdom. Moss asserts that Christians have relied on God’s judgment andrevenge to vindicate them in another world, a mentality she perceives as wrong.But throughout the New Testament believers find teachings that instruct them toleave revenge to the just judge. Indeed, a biblical motivation for refrainingfrom taking one’s own revenge is trust in God’s ability to ultimately right allwrongs (Rom 12.19).
Moss also criticizes Christians forconsidering their own martyrs as superior to other types of martyrs because theyseemingly believe their own have more noble motivations. She challenges theidea that “they do not have any interest in or expectation of reward in thehereafter” (213)—a belief about martyrs that she criticizes as overlysimplistic. But one wonders if the myth she seeks to debunk actually exists.Trust in a future when a believer will hear “well done” and receive rewards is taughtas a noble motivation in the Gospels and 1 Peter, among other places. TheChristian expectation of heavenly reward helps them endure, in fact. Jesus even mentions reward as a motivation for enduring (Matt 5.11).
In Moss’s final two chapters she finally arrives at a subject that seems to have motivated her arguments. In “The Inventionof the Persecuted Church,” she asserts that persecution stories currently serveas a way to marginalize others and attack those who oppose Christians’ opinions.Yet while some may attack others who disagree, it seems to this writer that thepersecution stories more often remind believers that this world will neverapplaud Christian sexual ethics. And this world will never be their “home,”because God has called Christ-followers, members of another kingdom, to serve onearth as ambassadors. And what believers experience when others oppose them isnothing new or strange.
In “TheDangerous Legacy of the Martyrdom Complex,” Moss criticizes those on theChristian Right for using the religious rhetoric of “holy war” and oppositionto build a political case. The Myth ofChristian Persecution includes contemporary examples of Rick Santorum andGlenn Beck, thus coming off as a veiled attempt to criticize the Christianright for viewing themselves as being opposed by the “world” and forapproaching politics with an “us v. them” mentality. Moss tells a story abouthearing a pro-lifer speak of “the world” and its low view of life, and sheconcludes, “The implication was that pro-lifers are modern-day martyrs andvictims of persecution” (251). Interestingly, she chose those words, “martyrs”and “persecution,” not the speaker.
It seemsthat Moss has drawn on her prowess with historical documents, her ability towrite lucid prose, and her thoroughgoing knowledge of first-century backgroundsto argue the existence of a cause-effect reality: persecution stories lead tohard-nosed line-drawing by western Christians. But one is hard pressed to see sucha connection. Despite her argument’s many weaknesses, however, Moss does bringa key strength to her work—a commitment to dialogue. Regardless ofwhy Christians on the right tend to speak in “war” and “battle” and “jihad” terms,her assertions that all believers should listen to the opposition, find commonground, tone down inflammatory rhetoric, and dialogue with others whose ideas seem to conflict with theBible come as timely applications. Though she never states it, her book brings with it a reminder that the One who said the persecutedwould be blessed also said, “Blessed are the peacemakers” (Matt. 5.9).
FYI: Links to the author's website, Facebook page, and Twitter account.