Ancient Christians of Cyprus: Barnabas

Today I give you an extract from Wednesday evening’s talk ‘Ancient Christians of Cyprus’. Enjoy!

My photo of Barnabas' tomb
My photo of Barnabas’ tomb

Although little is known about Cypriot Christians in the early years of the church, we do know that the apostles Paul and Barnabas visited the island. The book of Acts tells us as follows:

13 Now in the church at Antioch there were prophets and teachers: Barnabas, Simeon called Niger, Lucius of Cyrene, Manaen (who had been brought up with Herod the tetrarch) and Saul. While they were worshipping the Lord and fasting, the Holy Spirit said, ‘Set apart for me Barnabas and Saul for the work to which I have called them.’ So after they had fasted and prayed, they placed their hands on them and sent them off.

The two of them, sent on their way by the Holy Spirit, went down to Seleucia and sailed from there to Cyprus. When they arrived at Salamis, they proclaimed the word of God in the Jewish synagogues. John was with them as their helper.

They travelled through the whole island until they came to Paphos. There they met a Jewish sorcerer and false prophet named Bar-Jesus, who was an attendant of the proconsul, Sergius Paulus. The proconsul, an intelligent man, sent for Barnabas and Saul because he wanted to hear the word of God. But Elymas the sorcerer (for that is what his name means) opposed them and tried to turn the proconsul from the faith. Then Saul, who was also called Paul, filled with the Holy Spirit, looked straight at Elymas and said, 10 ‘You are a child of the devil and an enemy of everything that is right! You are full of all kinds of deceit and trickery. Will you never stop perverting the right ways of the Lord? 11 Now the hand of the Lord is against you. You are going to be blind for a time, not even able to see the light of the sun.’

Immediately mist and darkness came over him, and he groped about, seeking someone to lead him by the hand. 12 When the proconsul saw what had happened, he believed, for was amazed at the teaching about the Lord. (Acts 13:1-12, NIV)

Barnabas, we have already learned earlier in Acts 4, was a Jewish man from Cyprus who was part of the Jerusalem church. His ‘real’ name was Joseph, but his fellow-believers called him Barnabas—‘Son of Encouragement.’ We see him performing his acts of encouragement in Acts 9 when he convinces the apostles that Paul is no longer a persecutor but has become a believer like them.

In Acts 11, he moves from Jerusalem to Antioch at the apostles’ bidding to help out with the church that is growing there as a result of the persecution at Jerusalem. In the same chapter, we also learn that Christians from Jerusalem have moved to Cyprus; so the story above about Paul and Barnabas is not the first time the people of Cyprus have encountered the Gospel. The Lord was making ready the soil for the arrival of his great preachers.

Barnabas accompanies Paul in his many missionary journeys throughout the eastern Mediterranean until they part ways in a dispute over Barnabas’ kinsman Mark, whom Paul does not wish to take with them because of some earlier abandonment of the mission, it seems. From here, Barnabas disappears from historically reliable sources.

Nonetheless, what we are told in the Acts of Barnabas which date to before 478 when his alleged tomb near Salamis was discovered, is not unlikely in terms of broad detail.

I would like to make a brief note about apocryphal acts before moving on. Documents such as the Acts of Barnabas often turn out to be our only sources for some information on earliest Christianity. They are often reliant upon oral traditions, and some of them, such as the Protoevangelion of James, include complete fabrications.

Nonetheless, they can still contain reliable information and sometimes examples to live by, even if they are not entirely historically precise. We evangelicals often scoff at them, but I have difficulty doing so. One reason is the fact that I studied Classics as an undergraduate and master’s student.

There I learned that our earliest history for Alexander the Great, who died in 323 BC, is by Quintus Curtius Rufus, who wrote it during the first century AD — over three hundred, possibly four hundred, years later! Yet as an ancient historian, I rely on this document and others like it, such as Arrian or Plutarch who wrote about Alexander even later, trusting where it is not contrary to other, more secure documents, or where it does not run counter to reason, that it is a reliable account of the deeds of Alexander the Great.

There exists the very real possibility that, although the Acts of Barnabas represent a later sensibility than that of the apostolic age, texts such as this maintain the germ of truth throughout history.

According to the Acts of Barnabas, Barnabas and Mark brought the Christian mission back to Cyprus. It depicts them travelling all about the island, preaching to the pagan inhabitants, helping stop pagan festivals, and converting them to Christianity. Barnabas eventually settles himself down in Salamis as his base of operations. At the time, Salamis was one of the great cities of Cyprus, and you can still see the magnificent Roman ruins today.

Eventually, his teaching provoke the ire of the local Jewish population who got him arrested and then, under cover of nightfall, dragged him from the city and burned him to death at the stake.

Whether these details are all correct, I cannot say. But that Barnabas was martyred for his faith is surely certain—every apostle save John was martyred either by local authorities or in mob violence, and this state of affairs would carry on within the Roman Empire until AD 312, but in many places beyond the Empire it never stopped.

Saint of the Week: St. Andrew the Apostle

St. Andrew on a Column in Nicholson Square, Edinburgh

Since St. Andrew’s Day was this week, and St. Andrew is the patron saint of Scotland (where I live), he’s this week’s saint.

St. Andrew, judging from the Gospel accounts, was originally a fisherman, and then a disciple of St. John the Baptist.  But when the Baptist declared, “Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!” Andrew and some of the others decided to go check out Jesus’ digs.

After having spent a little bit of time with Jesus, Andrew ran off to tell his brother Simon that he’d found the Messiah.  Simon is important because later on, Jesus calls him the Rock (Petros in Greek), and he goes on to be a great leader in the apostolic band.

During the brief years of Jesus’ ministry, although not of the closest three (the Rock, James, John), he was of the inner four, often coming in lists with the other three.

He also spoke up and pointed out the boy with five small barley loaves and two small fish.  He is mentioned once in Acts.

So much for the biblical record.

As my previous post about St. Matthias tells us, there is a document known as The Acts of Andrew and Matthias in which St. Matthias goes to the land of the cannibals, and St. Andrew rescues him from being gormandized.  The OE poem Andreas (alluded to here) is about Andrew realising Matthias’ trouble through a dream and his journey there.  Jesus is the helmsman of Andrew’s ship and awesomeness ensues.  Andrew shows up and preaches to the cannibals then sets Matthias free.  More awesomeness follows this.

Following this, I believe that these apostolic fellows go and preach to some barbarians.  They show a little caution this time, not wishing to be had for dinner.  But the barbarians prove not to be cannibals.  Thankfully.

As tradition has it, Aegeates, a pagan proconsul whose wife Andrew converted, was angered by his wife’s Christianity.  He accordingly had Andrew crucified in the shape of an X — hence the Saltire on Scotland’s flag.

What do we take from all this?  St. Andrew was a man who found the Messiah and wasn’t afraid to bring others to him.  He brought his brother.  According to the old stories, he brought the good news about the Messiah to the cannibals as well as the people of Greece.  We may not all be the Rock — a great public leader — but can we not all be Andrew?  I reckon we can.

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Saint of the Week: St. Matthias the Apostle

Do you ever wonder about St. Matthias and what he did before and after his one and only appearance in the Bible, when they cast lots and choose him as the replacement for Judas Iscariot in Acts 2?  So does most of the world, as it turns out.

Regarding his life before his apostolate, we can assume he was among the 70 whom Jesus sent out because in Acts Peter says that Judas’ replacement must have been with them from the beginning.  His Wikipedia entry cites Clement of Alexandria as saying that St. Matthias was possibly the same person as Zacchaeus (Lk. 19:1-10).

Some agreement surrounds his preaching enterprise beginning in Judaea (Wikipedia and abbamoses agree).  This makes sense, since all of the apostolic activity began in Judaea before spreading throughout the known world.  According to one tradition, poor St. Matthias was stoned to death in Jerusalem.  Although not entirely unbelievable, there comes to be a certain sameness to the stories told about lesser-known apostolic characters, so this may be pious fiction.  According to Hippolytus he died of old age in Jerusalem.

Another and more exciting tradition places him in Aethiopia following his stint in Judaea.  Aethiopia most likely did not mean Ethiopia, though.  Wikipedia says that Nicephorus thinks “Aethiopia” is actually “Colchis” on the Black Sea, now in Georgia (the famous destination of Jason and the Argonauts).  The basis for this, I reckon, is the presence of his alleged remains there; although, if those are St. Matthias’ remains, then whose remains did St. Helena allegedly pick up?  Regardless, I have no idea why someone would think that Aethiopia would be Colchis of all places.  Aethiopia, speaking Hellenically, is the place of the burnt-faced people and is always south, usually south of Egypt and Libya, thus Nubia/Sudan/Ethiopia, but never north of Greece at Colchis.

Anyway, so St. Matthias brought the Gospel to Aethiopia, wherever that is.  Not only is he in Aethiopia, he’s in the city of man-eaters in Aethiopia, in fact.  The tradition that asserts the cannibals includes the apocryphal Acts of Andrew and Matthias, although the country is merely identified as “the country of the man-eaters” — perhaps Colchis?  Are Georgians cannibalistic? (I don’t think so.)  Said Acts are interesting because they are clearly related to the Old English poem Andreas (in OE here, in Mod English in the Everyman book Anglo-Saxon Poetry) in which St. Andrew the Apostle rescues St. Matthew from a city of cannibals in Mermedonia, not Aethiopia.  In fact, most of the manuscripts say the Acts are of Andrew & Matthew, but the earliest says of Matthias (see CCEL).

St. Matthias (or St. Matthew or no one at all, given that anthropophagy is rare and the story is of dubious origin) was imprisoned by the man-eaters and lined up to be their next feast.  He prayed for deliverance, and Jesus brought him St. Andrew on a ship (so maybe Colchis?).  Andrew gets there, sneaks into the city, and finds Matthias sitting in his prison cell singing (ala Sts. Paul & Silas).  Then the two apostles performed some miracles, culminating in Matthias being transported in a cloud along with Andrew’s disciples and showing up on a hill where Peter is preaching.  Andrew stayed behind to perform a few more miracles, debate with the Devil, and convert the man-eaters.

The Acts do not tell us about what St. Matthias does next.  At some point he died, possibly in Jerusalem, possibly in Georgia, possibly in Africa south of Egypt and Libya.  It’s all rather vague, revealing the paucity of information we have about first-century Christianity outside of the New Testament.