The Bishop Who Knew the Eyewitness

In 155 AD, the Roman proconsul gave the elderly bishop Polycarp one final chance. "Swear by Caesar and I will release you," he demanded. "Revile Christ." The old man, now eighty-six years old, stood unmoved in the arena at Smyrna and replied, "How can I blaspheme my King who has saved me?"

What gave Polycarp such unshakable certainty? He had sat at the feet of the Apostle John — the very John who had stood on the Mount of Transfiguration and witnessed the glory of Christ with his own eyes. Polycarp had not followed cleverly invented stories. He had received his faith directly from a man who had been there, who had seen the majesty, who had heard the voice of the Almighty thundering from heaven, "This is my Son, whom I love."

That chain of testimony — from the Father's voice, to John's witness, to Polycarp's faith — was no secondhand rumor. It was a lamp burning in the darkness of a pagan empire, steady and sure even when the flames of martyrdom rose around him.

Peter writes that we would do well to pay attention to the prophetic word as to a light shining in a dark place. Polycarp paid attention with his whole life. The eyewitness testimony he received was so real, so confirmed, that no threat could extinguish it. The morning star had already risen in his heart.