The following is an adaptation from a letter entitled the “Martyrdom of Polycarp” written in around 150-160 A.D. It was an eyewitnesses account written to encourage members of the Church. Kirsopp Lake’s translation opens in this fashion:

We write to you, brethren, the story of the martyrs and of the blessed Polycarp, who put an end to the persecution by his martyrdom as though adding the seal. For one might almost say that all that had gone before happened in order that the Lord might show to us from above a martyrdom in accordance with the Gospel. For he waited to be betrayed as also the Lord had done, that we too might become his imitators, "not thinking of ourselves alone, but also of our neighbours." For it is the mark of true and steadfast love, not to wish that oneself may be saved alone, but all the brethren also.  

§          §          §

The crowd looked on with shock for the first time in the last few hours. The arena was silent for a few moments as everyone considered what they had just seen. It was a typical game in the arena, or it had started that way. One of the Christians, Germanicus, had been thrown to the beasts. He was young, and strong. The crowd had expected him to renounce his silly opinions once and for all and go on to live out the rest of his healthy, strong life. The proconsul had told the boy this and waited for him to agree to burn incense in front of the real gods, the Roman gods.

In reply the man lunged forward, grabbed the lion by the mane and dragged it towards him so that he could die for his faith all the faster. 

But he was so young and strong…The people in the crowd exchanged glances.

“Who convinced the boy to--who taught him to believe all that?” Someone asked. Whispers flared through the arena until one man yelled “Polycarp!” 

“Polycarp teaches that cult!”

“Arrest him!” 

The Christians did not worship the multiple Roman gods, but only one God. This was foreign to the Romans, and they often applied names to the Christians which did not go in accord with the actual Christian faith. On that day the crowd yelled in their fury “Away with the atheists!”.

§          §          §

 “Come on, old man, what harm is there in it?”

Polycarp said nothing and continued to look out the carriage window. The streets of Rome rattled on by at an alarming pace. The arena was drawing nearer by the second, but still, the old man had not spoken a word throughout the ride. Herod, and his father, Niketas, exchanged glances. 

Niketas tried again. “What’s the harm in proclaiming that Caesar alone is Lord? There isn’t any, in fact it’s for the better!” He leaned in closer to Polycarp and spoke the next words distinctly and slowly. “It is the only way to save your life now, old man.”

The father and son waited for Polycarp’s reaction. Any reaction would have pleased them--whether it was him biting his lip nervously, weakly denying it, or even angrily yelling in a voice that shook that they were wrong. 

Instead he looked at them with clear blue eyes from under his silver hair and said “I am not going to do what you two are advising me to do.”

Niketas’ face lost any cordial expression that it might have hitherto contained. “Get out of my carriage. You can walk to the arena!”  

Herod called to the horseman. “Stop! We’re done trying to teach him sanity!” All that time spent talking to the man, and his only reply being that--it was sickening.

They flung the door open and helped Polycarp on his way down. They helped him with so much vigor that he fell and slammed against the Roman cobblestones. 

Herod’s breath caught and he waited for the man to turn around and berate them for their coarseness.

Instead Polycarp walked calmly over the rough cobblestones towards the arena without looking back. 

§          §          §

As the gentlemen stepped foot onto the arena a voice echoed from above, plain enough for all gathered to hear: “Be strong, Polycarp, and play the man.”. 

St. Polycarp was brought before the proconsul. “Are you Polycarp?” The man asked over the roaring of the crowd, to which the saint replied the affirmative.

The proconsul sighed. “Look at you, you’re elderly and wise. You shouldn’t be tossing your life away like this. Swear by Caesar, and say ‘Away with the atheists’. It’s easy.” 

St. Polycarp looked over the crowd with eyes as clear as an empty fall sky. His face was darkened as he looked over the sea of faces around the arena--after a short time he groaned and looked up towards Heaven. He waved his hand at the crowd and said “Away with the atheists.”

The proconsul‘s mouth twisted to the side in a smile that would frighten children. “Just take the oath, and I’ll let you go. Denounce Christ.” 

The saint shook his head and said “For eighty-six years have I been His servant, and He has done me no wrong. How can I blaspheme against my King, who saved me?”

“Swear by the genius of Caesar.” The proconsul demanded. 

Polycarp’s eyes flashed. “If you vainly suppose that I will swear by the genius of Caesar, as you say, and pretend that you are ignorant of who I am and what I believe, listen: I am a Christian. And if you wish to learn the doctrine of Christianity pick a day and listen.”

The proconsul laughed the kind of laugh that was as empty as an echo. “I have wild beasts, Polycarp. I will send you straight to them unless you repent of that madness..” 

“Call for them. It is good to change from evil to righteousness, but we cannot ‘repent’ from good and turn to evil.”

“I will burn you alive, if the beasts seem so harmless to you, unless you repent!” 

Polycarp shrugged. “You’re threatening me with fire that burns for a time and then goes out. Don’t you know of the everlasting flames that await the wicked? Come on, do what you will.”

He said these and many other things to the proconsul, and the entire time he was filled with courage and joy. His face was so “full of grace”, as eyewitnesses wrote, that not only did he show no fear when the proconsul was threatening him; the proconsul was so shocked by Polycarp’s expression that he sent a messenger into the middle of the arena three times to announce “Polycarp has confessed that he is a Christian.” 

The crowd was enraged.

“This is the teacher of Asia!”  

“The father of the Christians!”

“He teaches people to abandon the gods!” 

“Let a lion loose on him!”

“A lion!” 

The nobleman that was in charge of the Roman games replied to the multitude that it was too late in the day for him to release a wild beast from its cage.

“Well then burn him alive!” 

They were going to nail him to the stake but he stopped them by saying “Let me be. God will not only give me the fortitude to last through the fire--he will strengthen me so that I will remain unmoved, even without your nails.”

His hands were bound together. He looked up towards Heaven and prayed aloud. He thanked God that he could join in Christ’s passion so that he could rejoice with Christ in Heaven. 

The fire was lit as soon as he finished with his “Amen”.

The flames blazed up around him and roared almost as loud as lion would have. The crowd waited in eager anticipation for the screams.  

But they were disappointed.

No screams came. Not even the sound of anything burning--other than wood. The fire encircled the saint completely, the flames rising and swooping over his head in a dome, and yet it did not touch him at all. It was as if the fire was a room, surrounding him on all sides but not harming him.  

“What’s going on?” Somebody asked.

“Hey, do you smell something?” 

“Yes.” Another breathed in deeply as the scent wafted over the crowd. “It smells like… incense.”

Seeing that the fire was not going to harm the man anytime soon, an executioner stepped forward and thrust his dagger into Polycarp’s chest. A dove flew forth from the wound and disappeared into the sky. The fire collapsed down to earth, sputtered, and died. It was put out by blood that had gushed out of the man’s chest. 

The letter concludes:

You, indeed, asked that the events should be explained to you at length, but we have for the present explained them in summary by our brother Marcion; therefore when you have heard these things, send the letter to the brethren further on, that they also may glorify the Lord, who takes his chosen ones from his own servants. And to him who is able to bring us all in his grace and bounty, to his heavenly kingdom, by his only begotten Child, Jesus Christ, be glory, honor, might, and majesty for ever. Greet all the saints. Those who are with us, and Evarestus, who wrote the letter, with his whole house, greet you.

Kirsopp Lake’s translation of the letter was used to write this story, and can be found at http://www.earlychristianwritings.com/text/martyrdompolycarp-lake.html.