Saint Ignatius was the second or third bishop of Antioch, the very city where followers of Jesus were first called Christians. He’s one of the Apostolic Fathers, which means he knew the Apostles themselves. Tradition says he was a disciple of Saint John the Theologian.
That makes him a direct link to Christ.
Ignatius led the Church in Antioch around the turn of the first century, probably until about 107 AD. During the reign of Emperor Trajan, he was arrested for refusing to worship the Roman gods. The authorities chained him to soldiers and marched him overland to Rome, where he’d be thrown to wild beasts in the arena. Public execution as entertainment. That’s how Rome dealt with Christians who wouldn’t bend.
But here’s what makes Ignatius extraordinary. On that long journey to his death, he wrote seven letters to churches along the route and to Polycarp, the bishop of Smyrna. These weren’t desperate pleas for rescue. They were pastoral instructions, theological teaching, and expressions of joy that he’d soon be united with Christ through martyrdom.
The letters survive. We still have them.
What the Letters Teach
Ignatius wrote to the Ephesians, Magnesians, Trallians, Romans, Philadelphians, Smyrnaeans, and to Polycarp personally. They’re some of the earliest Christian writings outside the New Testament, and they show us what the Church believed and practiced while people who’d known Jesus were still alive.
Three themes dominate. First, the Eucharist is Christ’s actual Body and Blood. Ignatius calls it “the medicine of immortality.” He doesn’t mean it symbolizes Christ or reminds us of Christ. He means it is Christ, and receiving it is how we’re united to Him and to each other. This isn’t medieval theology or later development. It’s what Christians believed from the start.
Second, unity around the bishop. Ignatius insists repeatedly that each local church should gather around its bishop, with the presbyters and deacons. The bishop isn’t just an administrator. He’s the center of unity and the guardian of apostolic teaching. Where the bishop is, there is the Church. This matters because some people today think early Christianity was loosely organized or congregational. Ignatius shows otherwise.
Third, the reality of Christ’s humanity. He was fighting an early heresy called Docetism, which claimed Jesus only seemed to have a body. Ignatius says no, Christ truly became man, truly suffered, truly died, truly rose. If the Incarnation wasn’t real, neither is our salvation.
His letter to the Romans contains one of the most striking lines in early Christian literature: “I am God’s wheat, and I am ground by the teeth of wild beasts, that I may be found pure bread.” He actually begged the Roman Christians not to interfere with his martyrdom. He wanted to be united with Christ through suffering.
That’s not suicidal despair. It’s the opposite, a man so convinced of the Resurrection that death held no terror.
Why He Matters to Antiochians
For those of us in the Antiochian Orthodox Church, Ignatius isn’t just an ancient saint. He’s our bishop. He led the Church in Antioch when it was still young, when the Apostles’ voices were still echoing in living memory. The Antiochian Church traces its lineage directly through him back to Saints Peter and Paul, who founded the church in Antioch.
When we say we’re part of an apostolic church, Ignatius is part of what we mean. He received the faith from John. He passed it to his successors. That chain remains unbroken.
His nickname was Theophorus, “God-bearer.” Some traditions say it’s because he literally carried God in his heart through his deep prayer life. Others say the child Jesus once held him. Either way, the name fits. His letters breathe Christ on every page.
The Orthodox Church commemorates Saint Ignatius on December 20. If you’ve never read his letters, they’re short and accessible. The epistle to the Romans especially will stay with you. Here was a man who loved Christ more than his own life, who understood the Eucharist as we still do, who saw the Church as we still see it.
He died in Rome, torn apart by beasts while crowds watched. But he’d already written that he longed to “attain to Jesus Christ.” In a very real sense, he did. His witness endures, his teaching guides us, and his prayers join ours before the throne of God. That’s what the communion of saints means, Ignatius isn’t a figure from a history book. He’s alive in Christ, part of the Church that spans heaven and earth.
And he’s still teaching us what it means to be Christian.
