The Passing Of The Prophets In The Apostolic Fathers

By Michael J. Svigel

[Michael J. Svigel is chair and professor of theological studies, Dallas Theological Seminary, Dallas, Texas.]

Abstract

The New Testament does not sufficiently address whether prophets and prophesying passed off the scene in subsequent generations. This issue must therefore be addressed in the earliest writings of the church received as doctrinally sound by the majority of Christians who were heirs of the apostolic ministry and message. The evidence from these writings, the Apostolic Fathers, ca. 50–160, presents a narrative in which the work of the Spirit through the ministry of prophets gradually ceased in the second and third generations of Christianity. Prophesying flourished during the peak of the apostolic era (ca. 50–70), settled among ordained church leaders between 70 and 120, and waned with the passing of prophetic leaders (ca. 100–150).

* * * * *

At the Council of Constantinople in 381, the church universally confessed that the Spirit “spoke through the prophets.”[1] While this statement positively asserts the authority of the Scriptures because they had been inspired by the Holy Spirit, its use of the past tense (λαλῆσαν, locutus est) implies that the speaking of the Spirit through the prophets was a thing of the past. Likewise, Origen in his rebuttal of the second-century critic of Christianity, Celsus, stated, “And Celsus is not to be believed when he says that he has heard such men prophesy; for no prophets bearing any resemblance to the ancient prophets have appeared in the time of Celsus. If there had been any, those who heard and admired them would have followed the example of the ancients, and have recorded the prophecies in writing.”[2] According to Origen, authoritative prophetic utterances had ceased by the time of Celsus during the second century. What, then, do the earliest writings from the period say about when such inspired prophecies passed off the scene? Do we see a sudden cessation of prophetic utterances at the close of the apostolic age around the year 100, as “cessationists” contend? Or did prophesying continue to function in the life of the church beyond this first generation, contrary to the testimony of Origen, as “continuationists” argue?[3]

In this article, I argue that the extant historical evidence provided by the Apostolic Fathers (ca. 50–160) regarding the work of the Spirit through the ministry of prophets favors a soft cessationist perspective that understands prophetic utterances as gradually fading in the course of the early second century.[4] Given a traditional, conservative reckoning of the dates and authenticity of the writings of the Apostolic Fathers, we can discern the flourishing of prophecy during the peak of the apostolic era (ca. 50–70); it then settled among ordained church leaders (ca. 70–120) before waning in the course of the second century with the passing of prophetic leaders who originated in the apostolic era (ca. 100–150). From this reading of the historical sources, at issue is not so much the fact as the pace of the passing of the prophets in the early church.

Apostles And Prophets In The Didache

A background for discussing the work of the Holy Spirit and the ministry of apostles and prophets is found in Didache 11–13, where “apostle” and “prophet” are used almost interchangeably.[5] The author of the Didache regarded the Spirit-empowered ministry of the first-century prophets as parallel to that of the Old Testament prophets, neither inferior nor superior in quality or function. The actions of the church’s prophets were to be held to the standards of the actions of the “old prophets” (Did. 11.11).[6]

In light of this high regard for their divine authority, true apostles were to be welcomed as if they were the Lord (Did. 11.4). Because the question of authenticity was of paramount importance for the welfare of early Christian communities, the didachist set forth tests to distinguish authentic from false apostles and prophets. An itinerant who claimed apostleship but who lingered for more than two days was regarded as a false prophet. True apostles were to leave with only those things necessary for their travels; false prophets would ask for money (11.6). Only those apostles/prophets who practiced what they preached were true prophets; those who preached one thing and did another were frauds (11.8, 10). True prophets would use their prophetic authority to benefit others, but if they sought to benefit themselves, they were false prophets (11.12).

Positively, throughout chapter 11 the writer referred to a prophet who “speaks in the spirit” (ἐν πνεύματι) (11.7, 8, 9, 12).[7] This phrase refers to speaking by the Holy Spirit and thereby functioning in a prophetic—and infallibly authoritative—capacity. If a prophet were truly speaking “in the Spirit,” he could not be judged, rejected, or spoken against (11.7, 11). However, this absolute authority extended only to prophets who had been “proven to be genuine” (11.11). If the prophet had passed the tests described earlier and had demonstrated authenticity by faith and practice (cf. 1 Clem. 44.2; Did. 12.1; 15.1), then whenever he spoke from the seat of prophetic authority (i.e., “in the Spirit”), his words were to be heeded as from the Lord. To speak “in the Spirit,” according to Didache 11, was to claim divine prophetic authority for the message. Aune notes, “While physical agitation and loud speech is one possibility, the references to ‘speaking in the Spirit’ appear to refer rather to the use of some kind of legitimation formula analogous to ‘thus says the Holy Spirit.’ ”[8] This interpretation of “in the Spirit” helps us decipher the otherwise strange phrase “every prophet ordering a meal in the Spirit” (Did. 11.9). “In the Spirit” makes the best sense understood as “by the authority of the Holy Spirit.”

This bring us to the implications for the passing of prophets in the early church. Scholars who have dated the Didache (or at least this section on regulations for apostles and prophets) in the second century have imagined a situation beyond the first century in which such authoritative ministries of apostles and prophets were still common experiences of the churches.[9] However, a general consensus has emerged among Didache scholars in the last several decades that dates the work as a whole (and almost certainly the section related to apostles and prophets) in the first century, not the second.[10] If this consensus of a first-century context for the Didache holds, then the discussion of the Holy Spirit’s work in apostolic and prophetic authority contributes nothing new or controversial to contemporary debates between non-charismatic cessationists and Pentecostal/charismatic continuationists. If, on the other hand, the tide turns toward a second-century dating, then the Didache may once again be cited as evidence for a widespread presence of authoritative apostles and prophets beyond what has traditionally been called the “apostolic era” of the first century.

Writing “Through The Spirit” In 1 Clement

The work of the Holy Spirit in 1 Clement appears to be rather consistent with that found in the New Testament.[11] More than half of the ten references to the Holy Spirit in 1 Clement relate to the inspiration of Scripture. Thus, the author unsurprisingly introduced the prophetic writings of the Old Testament with “the Holy Spirit says” (λέγει γὰρ τὸ πνεῦμα τὸ ἅγιον) (1 Clem. 13.1; cf. 16.2; 22.1). He referred to the whole of the Scriptures in lofty language, attributing their truthfulness to the fact that they were “given by the Holy Spirit” (διὰ τοῦ πνεύματος τοῦ ἁγίου) (1 Clem. 45.2). Notably, he referred to Paul’s letter to the Corinthians as written “spiritually” (πνευματικῶς) (1 Clem. 47.3).

Yet we hit an unexpected obstacle in the path of an otherwise pedestrian treatment of the Holy Spirit’s role in the production of Scripture when we reach 1 Clement 63.2. There the author noted that his very letter from Rome to Corinth was “written through the Holy Spirit” (γεγραμμένοις διὰ τοῦ ἁγίου πνεύματος). This brings up important questions. Does Clement’s claim to have written “through the Spirit” diminish the force of the early Christian understanding of inspiration? Or does the author claim a higher degree of authority for his own writing? The lingering problem is not easy to resolve.

To be sure, at times the phrase διὰ τοῦ πνεύματος refers to the inspiration of Scripture (1 Clem. 22.1 and 45.2). This has led some to suggest that Clement regarded his own letter as inspired.[12] However, elsewhere Clement used the phrase διὰ πνεύματος ἁγίου in reference to the Spirit-empowered preaching ministry of the Old Testament prophets, not strictly to their inspired writings: “The ministers of God’s grace spoke concerning repentance through the Holy Spirit” (1 Clem. 8.1). Such ministers included Noah and Jonah; the latter prophet’s preaching is preserved in Scripture, while the former’s preaching is not.

Thus, the phrase can be used in reference not only to the inspiration of Scripture proper but also to the Spirit-empowered preaching of repentance. In light of this, the use of the phrase γεγραμμένοις διὰ τοῦ ἁγίου πνεύματος in 63.2 would not necessarily refer to the verbal inspiration of the letter from Rome to Corinth itself. Rather, it would refer to the author’s belief that the call to repentance in the letter from Rome carries with it the authority of the Holy Spirit. On 1 Clement 63.2, Lindeman suggests, “The statement . . . that the Roman congregation has written the letter διὰ τοῦ ἁγίου πνεύματος does not mean that the text claims to be ‘inspired’; however, it may well mean that the expressions here are not simply of personal convictions.”[13]

First Clement is most commonly dated in the late first century, around the year 95.[14] Assuming this historical context, the text gives a brief but important glimpse into the state of Christian thought regarding the prophetic function of the Spirit as the church transitioned from the apostolic to post-apostolic age. One could understand the author’s reference to the letter from the church in Rome written “through the Spirit” as an indication that prophetic authority had shifted from the individual prophet to the corporate prophetic mission of the church as a whole. Yet even in this case, we are only one step away from the author functioning in the capacity of a prophet like Noah or Jonah (8.1). The difference is that the author’s call to repentance was written on behalf of the whole church in Rome, not on the basis of his own authority. As such, the prophetic authority “through the Holy Spirit” would rest in the congregation as a whole, not in an individual prophet.[15]

Prophetic Utterances According To Barnabas

The so-called Epistle of Barnabas presents a few challenges with regard to the passing of the prophets in the early church.[16] Though the Holy Spirit is not explicitly mentioned, a possible reference to his prophetic work is found in Barnabas 16.9. In answering the question of whether there is still “a temple of God” after the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem (16.1–6), the author asserted, “God truly dwells in our dwelling place—that is, in us” (ἐν τῷ κατοικητηρίῳ ἡμῶν ἀληθῶς ὁ θεὸς κατοικεῖ ἐν ἡμῖν) (Barn. 16.8). Does this text emphasize the dwelling of the Spirit in the individual believer as a temple for the Holy Spirit?[17] Or does it emphasize the common early Christian image of the church as the corporate temple of God?[18] It is not easy to decide between these two options.

In Barnabas 4.11, the author exhorted his readers to “become a perfect temple for God,” warning against withdrawing from the community and living alone; instead he encouraged the community to gather together for “the common good” (Barn. 4.10). But in 6.15, the author referred to the heart as “a holy temple for the Lord.” The references to the “temple” in chapter 16 similarly seem to bifurcate between the individual dwelling place of the Spirit (Barn. 16.7, 8) and the community of the Spirit (16.9, 10).

In the midst of this ambiguity regarding the Spirit’s work in the individual and the Spirit’s work in the community, the author of Barnabas referred to God dwelling “in us” (ἐν ἡμῖν). This presence of God is evidenced through a number of means, one of which is “himself prophesying in us, himself dwelling in us” (αὐτὸς ἐν ἡμῖν προφητεύων, αὐτὸς ἐν ἡμῖν κατοικῶν) (Barn. 16.9). The author then gave what appears to be an account of a prophetic utterance: “For the one longing to be saved does not look to the human, but to the one dwelling in him and speaking [τὸν ἐν αὐτῷ κατοικοῦντα καὶ λαλοῦντα], being astonished at him, at the fact that he has never heard that one either speaking such words from his mouth nor did he himself desire to listen” (Barn. 16.10). This, the author said, “is the spiritual temple being built up by the Lord” (16.1). Though the passage climaxes in a community application of the “temple,” the individual prophesying by means of the Spirit has not been overtaken by the corporate image. So at the time of this writing, the author of Barnabas appears to have regarded the indwelling of the Spirit of God as the means by which a prophet prophesied.

Of course, “at the time of this writing” becomes the important delimiter. A question lingers as to where this account of prophesying belongs on the timeline of early Christianity. Some date Barnabas in the fourth quarter of the first century, shortly after the first Jewish revolt (ca. 75–80); others date it in the second quarter of the second century, after the Bar Kochba revolt (ca. 135–140); still others understand it to contain both earlier and later sections.[19]

To sum up the testimony from Barnabas, there is no doubt that the author regarded the prophetic work of the Spirit in the church as normative at the time of writing. The question is whether the relevant passage in chapter 16 originated in the first century or the second. If a late date is adopted, this would suggest awareness of continued prophetic utterances in the churches beyond the second quarter of the second century—fairly late for strong cessationists. If the early date is adopted, it would simply confirm a point on which cessationists and continuationists agree: that prophets, speaking by the authority of the Holy Spirit, functioned in the churches of the first century during the age of the apostles.

The Prophesying of Ignatius of Antioch

Unlike 1 Clement, in which the author claimed authority from the Holy Spirit on behalf of the entire church in Rome (1 Clem. 63.2), in Ignatius’s letter to the Philadelphians (7.1–2), the aged Antiochene bishop claimed to have experienced a personal prophetic utterance. Ignatius recounted having spoken with the “voice of God” (θεοῦ φωνῇ) while in Philadelphia, noting that it was the “Spirit preaching” (πνεῦμα ἐκήρυσσεν) through his words (Phld. 7.1–2).[20] This account marks a rare example in which Ignatius appealed to authoritative new divine revelation.21 He said this was a “loud voice, God’s voice” (Phld. 7.1), noting that after he uttered these words by the prophetic power of God, some among the Philadelphians suspected that he had said them because he “had known beforehand about the division of certain people” (7.2). Ignatius insisted that his knowledge came from the Spirit himself.[22]

Of course, we are not obligated to accept Ignatius’s experience as genuine, nor are we thus compelled to regard the content of the utterance as authentic and authoritative. Nevertheless, Philadelphians 7.1–2 does highlight important issues related to the passing of the prophets in the early church. First, Ignatius and his readers seem to have had no problem with the theoretical possibility of actual prophetic utterances occurring in the early second century.[23]

This must be factored into historical considerations regarding cessationism and continuationism.

Second, Ignatius connected the prophetic function to the ordained office. In modern scholarship, it has been customary for some to pit episcopacy (the ordained office) against prophecy (charismatic gifts) in the early church. For example, Jeffrey Russell wrote, “The Church was necessarily a failure in that its organizational structure muffled the immediacy of the religious experience. Its search for order frustrated prophecy.”[24] More recently, such a categorical juxtaposing of office against charisma has rightly come under scrutiny.[25] Yet in Philadelphians 7.1–2, we have an instance of a revered bishop (Ignatius) functioning as a prophet.[26] Beyond this, the content of his asserted prophetic utterance strengthened the established ordained offices of bishop, presbyters, and deacons. Swete notes, “It is interesting to observe that Ignatius can combine a claim to prophetic inspiration with a passionate zeal for a regular and fully organized ministry. He is persuaded that while the Holy Spirit still spoke by the Prophets, the threefold ministry of bishops, presbyters, and deacons was also after the mind of Christ and had been established in the Church by His Holy Spirit.”[27]

Assuming the authenticity of the letters of Ignatius of Antioch,[28] we see evidence of a continued prophetic ministry after the age of the apostles in the early second century (ca. 110). However, this ministry is seen functioning within the context of the established, ordained office of the bishop and in harmony with established offices. The alleged experience of the prophetic utterance also occurred through a figure who had himself thrived during the apostolic era and was nearing the end of his life.

The Spirit Of The Shepherd Of Hermas

Similar to the section in the Didache regarding apostles and prophets (Did. 11–13), Mandate 11 in Shepherd of Hermas contrasts false prophets and true prophets. The believers (πιστοί) are envisioned as seated on a bench while the false prophet is seated on a chair (Mand. 11.1).[29] Because the false prophet does not have “power of a divine spirit in himself” (ἐν ἑαυτῷ δύναμιν πνεύματος θείου), that deceiver functions like a soothsayer (11.2). Instead of being filled with a spirit from God, he is filled with a spirit from the devil (11.3).

In this context the author of the Shepherd was referring to pagan fortune-tellers associated with outsiders and idolaters (11.4). In contrast, “Every spirit given by God is not asked questions; but having the power of divinity, he speaks all things on his own, because he is from above, from the power of the divine spirit” (ἀπὸ τῆς δυνάμεως τοῦ θείου πνεύματος) (11.5). The Shepherd then explained the function of the true prophet: “Whenever the man having the divine spirit comes into the gathering of righteous men [ἀνδρῶν δικαίων] having faith of the divine spirit, and intercessory prayer is made to God from the assembly of those men, then the angel of the prophetic spirit resting upon him fills the man, and being filled by the holy spirit [or “Holy Spirit”], the man speaks to the congregation, just what the Lord wills” (Mand. 11.9).

As indicated in my translation, I am not fully persuaded by those who interpret πνεῦμα here (as well as in Mand. 5) as God the Holy Spirit—the third person of the Trinity.[30] In this passage, the “spirit” of the true or false prophet is not, strictly speaking, a reference either to the Holy Spirit or to Satan per se, but a reference to the spiritual force or disposition of the alleged prophet, which disposition is energized by either the divine Spirit or the devil (cf. Mand. 11.2–3).[31] Brox argues that a distinction should be made between the Holy Spirit proper and the “holy spirit” or “spirits” that indwell believers.[32] And Osiek wisely reminds us of Qumran’s Community Rule (1QS 4), which “assigns the tendencies to two spirits resident in the human heart” and discusses at length the “two ways” and “two angels” that affect the moral choices made by the children of light.[33]

Recently Clare Rothschild presented the thought-provoking argument that τὸ πνεῦμα τὸ ἅγιον in Mandate 5.1–2 is not a reference to the Holy Spirit at all, but to “pure pneuma” in a medical and pathological sense, drawing attention to clear “correspondences between the language and apparatus of the pneumatic systems of Galen and Hermas.”[34] In light of these interesting parallels, it may be that Hermas was employing a well-known medical metaphor to describe the battle between a “holy disposition” energized by the Spirit of God and a “harmful disposition” energized by a worldly or demonic spirit. In any case, that God the Holy Spirit is so easily driven out because he is “very sensitive” (Mand. 5.1.3) seems unlikely. Could Hermas have been using πνεῦμα in Mandate 11 in a similar manner, that is, as a reference not to the Holy Spirit per se, but to the heavenly, holy, supernatural power given by God through the Holy Spirit?

It may also be worth considering the possibility that several uses of πνεῦμα, especially in Mandate 11, refer simply to “breath”—that is, the literal exhaling of air that comes from the mouth of a prophet (true or false) when he or she speaks. By extension, then, the question addressed by Hermas was whether the words of the prophet were God-breathed or not. Did the utterances themselves flow from the person’s mouth by the power of the Spirit of God, by the human spirit, or by a demonic spirit?

Clearly, more—and more carefully nuanced—work needs to be done on Hermas’s use of πνεῦμα. Failure to do so has resulted in lingering problems of interpretation of the Shepherd and reconstructions of the development of pneumatology in the Apostolic Fathers and the early church. What is clear from especially Mandate 11, however, is that Hermas pictured a church context in which not only false prophets empowered by an earthly or satanic spirit were active among the people of God, but so were true prophets able to speak by the power of a divine πνεῦμα from heaven. Prophecy of some sort was plausible in Hermas’s day; and even a προφήτης could potentially “come into a gathering [ἔλθῃ . . . εἰς συναγωγήν] of righteous men” (Mand. 11.7, 9). We are left with no doubt that the presence of at least itinerant prophets was a plausible scenario at the time Mandate 11 was written.

Finally, we must also reckon with the existence of the Shepherd of Hermas itself as an example of “prophecy” if, indeed, this was the intention of the author. Scholarship is not entirely clear on this point.[35] Was the Shepherd originally understood as a straightforward recounting of heaven-sent apocalyptic visions, placing Hermas in the category of a prophet? Or was it understood as a series of unique, creative oral performances lying closer to a Christian version of a staged satire presented in pseudo-apocalyptic form? Aune even suggests a plausible mediating position:

The results of our inquiry make it probable that at least twelve prophetic oracles have been integrated by Hermas into the final composition of the Shepherd. Thus, in spite of the charge (which is probably not without some basis in fact) that the element of deliberate fiction looms large in the Shepherd, there is a strong probability that a core of prophetic speech has been preserved and elaborated through literary artifice and stylization to produce the finished document.[36]

Even after we answer the genre question and its relationship to genuine prophecy in the early church, we must still answer the question of date. We cannot uncritically adopt a late date for the entire work (in the 140s), then conclude that Hermas demonstrates the enduring presence of Spirit-enabled prophets deep into the second century.[37] Osiek’s estimation is more responsible: “The best assignment of date is an expanded duration of time beginning perhaps from the very last years of the first century, but stretching through most of the first half of the second century.”[38] In light of Aune’s theoretical suggestion above, then, some of the content directly related to prophets and prophesying could represent material from an early period, rendering uncertain conclusions about the passing of the prophets in the early church.

The Prophetic Teacher In Martyrdom Of Polycarp

Regarding the work of the Holy Spirit in the mid-second century, Martyrdom of Polycarp provides some interesting evidence. In one instance, the author of the Martyrdom recounted that three days prior to Polycarp’s arrest, he had fallen into a trance, in which he saw a vision of his pillow burning. He notified his companions of this vision immediately, concluding that he would be burned alive (Mart. Pol. 5.2). Later, when Polycarp was sentenced to this fate, the author reported, “It was necessary that the vision be fulfilled, which he received concerning the pillow, when he saw it on fire while praying and turned and said prophetically [εἶπεν . . . προφητικῶς] to the faithful who were with him, ‘It is necessary that I be burned alive’ ” (12.3). We have no reason to reject a priori this account of Polycarp’s prophetic vision or the report of his words spoken “prophetically” to his companions. Thus, sometime between 150–160 both the author of the Martyrdom and its recipients seem to have had no hesitation in regarding such revelatory works of the Spirit as within the realm of possibility.

Besides the believers hearing a voice from heaven declaring, “Be strong, Polycarp, and courageous” (Mart. Pol. 9.1), the events of Polycarp’s testimony before the proconsul in Smyrna continue on without any intrusions of the miraculous until the climax. As the fire was lit to burn Polycarp alive, the eye-witnesses behind the martyrdom claim to have seen a “miracle” in which the fire surrounded his body, which was unable to be consumed (15.1–16.1). In response, the executioners stabbed Polycarp with a knife, after which “there came out a dove and a large amount of blood” (16.1). The reference to the “dove” (περιστερά) may be understood as an allusion to the Holy Spirit (cf. Matt 3:16). However, the idea of a dove as an image of the soul is also attested.[39]

Finally, the author of the Martyrdom testified that Polycarp was “an apostolic and prophetic teacher [διδάσκαλος ἀποστολικὸς καὶ προφητικός] in our own time, bishop of the catholic church in Smyrna. For every word that came from his mouth came to pass and will come to pass” (16.2). It is true, of course, that Polycarp was nowhere given the direct title “apostle” (ἀπόστολος) or “prophet” (προφήτης). Of Paul’s list of heaven-sent gifts to the church in Ephesians 4:11, Polycarp was assigned the role of “teacher” (διδάσκαλος), though he held this role by virtue of his episcopal office. The reluctance simply to call Polycarp an “apostle” or “prophet” may be understood in the context of a general sense that the age of the actual apostles and prophets had come to an end. This may be supported by the fact that the late-second-century Muratorian Canon advised against the public reading of the Shepherd of Hermas in church “either among the prophets, whose number is complete, or among the apostles, for it is after [their] time.”[40]

Conclusion: Passing Of The Prophets In The Early Church

Early articulations and descriptions of the Spirit’s work of prophetic utterances and visions persist in causing consternation for some. Unfortunately, the doctrinal implications for cessationists or continuationists depend on a more precise dating for some of these early texts. If, on the one hand, works like Didache, Barnabas, and Shepherd of Hermas are to be dated in the second century, they become prima facie evidence for the presence of prophetic utterances in the churches beyond what many cessationists would regard as the unique first-century age of the apostles and prophets. On the other hand, if Didache is to be rightly dated between 50–70, if Barnabas was composed shortly after the first Jewish revolt in the 70s, and if Shepherd of Hermas is best dated in the 90s and early 100s, then continuationists are deprived of evidence for a widespread practice of prophecy deep into the second century.

Nevertheless, Ignatius of Antioch’s claim to have spoken prophetically in Philadelphians 7—dated most safely in about the first decade of the second century—stands as a stubborn proof that Christians of the early second century regarded such prophetic utterances as plausible. The same is true of the secondhand report of Polycarp’s prophetic vision of his own means of execution around the middle of the second century. But two things must be noted regarding this clear second-century evidence. First, both Ignatius and Polycarp were “ecclesiastical men” who held the office of bishop in their respective cities; thus, the prophetic function and the churchly office were in these instances practically indistinguishable. Second, both Ignatius and Polycarp were men whose ministries began in the first-century age of the apostles and prophets. They therefore provide evidence of first-century prophets whose ministries continued into the second century; they do not provide clear evidence of subsequent generations of prophets whose ministries succeeded those of the apostolic era.

In the end, then, the evidence regarding the work of the Holy Spirit in empowering prophetic utterances as a normal occurrence in the life of the church favors a “soft cessationist” account of the passing of the prophets in the early second century. Following a conservative reckoning of the date and authenticity of the writings of the Apostolic Fathers, the evidence would suggest a flourishing of prophecy in the heart of the apostolic period (ca. 50–70), a settling of prophecy among the ordered communities in general and the established church leaders in particular (ca. 70–120), and a waning (though not an utter extinguishing) of prophetic visions and utterances between 100 and 150 with the passing away of prophetic leaders who originated in the apostolic era.[41]

This settling and waning of widespread prophecy would still be consistent with the oft-cited testimony of Justin Martyr in Dialogue with Trypho 82.1—“For with us also until now are the prophetic gifts” (Παρὰ γὰρ ἡμῖν καὶ μέχρι νῦν προφητικὰ χαρίσματά ἐστιν). If Justin was recounting an idealized encounter with Jews who had recently fled from the Bar Kochba revolt (132–136) (see Dial. 1), this would place the dialogue around the year 140. Thus, Justin’s claim to Trypho and the Jews was intended to reflect a situation prior to the middle of the second century, not necessarily the situation as it prevailed when the Dialogue was written and published (ca. 155–160).

When we reach Irenaeus of Lyons around the year 180, we see something similar: disciples of Jesus, in his name, drove out demons, experienced visions, uttered prophecies, healed the sick, and even raised the dead (Iren. Haer. 2.32.4). However, these gifts were not given to new “apostles” or “prophets” per se, but to “the church dispersed throughout all the world” (ὧν κατὰ παντὸς τοῦ κόσμου ἡ Ἐκκλησία παρὰ Θεοῦ λαβοῦσα) (2.32.4). “She [the church] accomplishes nothing by either invocations to angels, or by incantations, or by other crooked curiosity; but by innocently, purely, and sincerely directing her prayers to the Lord, who made all things, and invoking the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, she accomplishes virtues for humanity, but not unto deception” (Iren. Haer. 2.32.5).[42]

By the end of the second century, then, the emphasis among orthodox Christians seems to have shifted from the Holy Spirit empowering individual apostles and prophets (the apostolic period), then to the settled “apostolic and prophetic” office holders (the sub-apostolic period), and finally to the community of the church in general as God answered prayers in the name of Jesus.

Notes

1. Greek: τὸ λαλῆσαν διὰ τῶν προφητῶν; Latin: qui locutus est per Prophetas.
2. Origen, Against Celsus 7.11. Translation from Ante-Nicene Fathers: The Writings of the Fathers down to A.D. 325, vol. 4, Tertullian, Part Fourth; Minucius Felix; Commodian; Origen, Parts First and Second, ed. Alexander Roberts and James Donaldson, American ed., rev. A. Cleveland Coxe (New York: Christian Literature Publishing Company, 1885), 616.
3. Gregg Allison distinguishes cessationism and continuationism this way: “In the debate between continuationism and cessationism, the former position believes that the Spirit continues to distribute miraculous gifts today to build up the church. The latter position believes that these gifts were designed to function as confirmation of the gospel and its original messengers in the early church; because these miraculous gifts have served their purpose, the Spirit is no longer distributing them.” Gregg R. Allison, The Baker Compact Dictionary of Theological Terms (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2016), 137. Prophecy is counted among such miraculous gifts.
4. Works treated in this article include the Didache, 1 Clement, Barnabas, Ignatius of Antioch, Shepherd of Hermas, and Martyrdom of Polycarp. Works not directly addressed include 2 Clement, Polycarp’s Philippians, the Epistle to Diognetus, and the fragmentary quotations from Papias of Hierapolis, as these lack significant content directly related to prophets and prophesying (Pol. Phil. and Papias) or are generally late in composition (2 Clement and Diognetus). Though the Apology of Aristides, which is not included among the Apostolic Fathers, was plausibly written in the early second century (ca. 125–150), it does not provide information regarding the function of prophets or prophesying in the early church.
5. In the New Testament documents, the terms do not seem to overlap to the same degree as they do in the Didache, but Pauline writings do pair them together as foundational for the New Testament church (1 Cor 12:28; Eph 2:20; 3:5; 4:11).
6. Greek: ὡσαύτως γὰρ ἐποίησαν καὶ οἱ ἀρχαῖοι προφῆται.
7. This phrase is also found in the New Testament in connection with speaking prophetically (Matt 22:43; 1 Cor 12:3; 14:16; Jude 20).
8. David E. Aune, Prophecy in Early Christianity and the Ancient Mediterranean World (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1983), 310.
9. Stanley M. Burgess, The Holy Spirit: Ancient Christian Traditions (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1984), 21; Johannes van Oort, “The Holy Spirit and the Early Church: The Experience of the Spirit,” HTS Teologiese Studies/Theological Studies 68, no. 1 (2012): 4; Ted A. Campbell, “Charismatic Prophecy as Loyal Opposition in the Second-Century Church,” The Asbury Theological Journal 56, no. 1 (2001): 81.
10. Hauschild notes, “Er gehört zu den älteren Traditionsstücken und kann auf Ende des 1. Jhs. datiert warden.” Wolf-Dieter Hauschild and Volker Henning Drescoll, Pneumatologie in der Alten Kirche, Traditio Christian: Texte und Kommentare zur patristischen Theologie, vol. 12 (Bern: Peter Lang, 2004), 3 n1. On first-century dating of the Didache, see also Jean-Paul Audet, La Didachè: Instructions des Apôtres, Ebib (Paris: Gabalda, 1958), 187–206; Marcello del Verme, Didache and Judaism: Jewish Roots of an Ancient Christian-Jewish Work (New York: T&T Clark, 2004), 5; Aaron Milavec, The Didache: Faith, Hope, and Life of the Earliest Christian Communities, 50–70 CE (New York: Newman, 2003); John A. T. Robinson, Redating the New Testament (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1976), 96–100, 322–27; Willy Rordorf and André Tuilier, eds., La doctrine des douze apôtres (Didachè): Introduction, texte critique, traduction, notes, appendices, annexe et index, 2nd ed., Sources Chrétiennes (Paris: Cerf, 1998), 94–97, 232–233. In 2010 O’Loughlin rightly noted, “The broad consensus today is for a first-century date. This could be as early as 50 . . . or as late as 80 or 90.” Thomas O’Loughlin, The Didache: A Window on the Earliest Christians (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2010), 26. Though a general scholarly consensus of a first-century dating is a relatively recent development, it is not a new suggestion. Cf. Joseph Langen, “Das älteste christliche Kirchenbuch,” Historische Zeitschrift 53, no. 2 (1885): 193–214; Philip Schaff, The Oldest Church Manual Called the Teaching of the Twelve Apostles (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1885), 119–23.
11. See 1 Clem. 46.6, 58.2, 8.1, 13.1, 16.2, 45.2, and 42.3. Lindeman notes, “Such statements do not exceed the understanding of πνεῦμα apparent in the New Testament; on the other hand, the idea that Christians are endowed with the Spirit through baptism is missing, as is the discussion of spiritual gifts characteristic of Paul (χαρίσματα or πνευματικά).” Andreas Lindeman, “The First Epistle of Clement,” in The Apostolic Fathers: An Introduction, ed. Wilhelm Pratscher, trans. Elisabeth G. Wolfe (Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2010), 63.
12. On 1 Clement 63.2, Burgess notes, “Clement also believes that he is inspired by the Holy Spirit in writing his Epistle to the Corinthians.” Burgess, The Holy Spirit, 17.
13. Lindeman, “First Epistle of Clement,” 63.
14. On the broad support for the late first-century date, see Leslie W. Barnard, Studies in the Apostolic Fathers and Their Background (Oxford: Blackwell, 1967), 9, 12; Bart Ehrman, ed. and trans., The Apostolic Fathers, vol. 1, 1 Clement, 2 Clement, Ignatius, Polycarp, Didache, Loeb Classical Library 24, ed. Jeffrey Henderson (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2003), 24–25; W. H. C. Frend, The Rise of Christianity (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1984), 97; Franz Xaver Funk et al., eds., Die Apostolischen Väter: Griechisch-deutsche Parallelausgabe (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1992), 77; Adolf von Harnack, Einführung in die alte Kirchengeschichte: Das Schreiben der römischen Kirche an die Korinthische aus der Zeit Domitians (1. Clemensbrief) (Leipzig: Hinrichs, 1929), 52; J. B. Lightfoot, ed., The Apostolic Fathers: Part 1, 2nd ed., vol. 1, S. Clement of Rome (New York: Olms, 1973), 346–58. However, this has not gone unchallenged, as some have argued for a later date, others for an earlier date. See C. Eggenberger, Die Quellen der politischen Ethik des 1. Klemensbriefes (Zürich: Zwingli, 1951), 182–87; Thomas J. Herron, “The Most Probable Date of the First Epistle of Clement to the Corinthians,” Studia patristica 21 (1989): 106–21; Clayton N. Jefford, The Apostolic Fathers and the New Testament (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2006), 18–19; L. L. Welborn, “On the Date of First Clement,” Biblical Research 29 (1984): 37. Erlemann argues for the earliest date, between 70 and 80. Kurt Erlemann, “Die Datierung des ersten Klemensbriefes—Anfragen an eine communis Opinio,” New Testament Studies 44 (1998): 591–607.
15. Cf. Burgess, The Holy Spirit, 17.
16. Despite its traditional title, the author of the Epistle of Barnabas did not name himself. The text, therefore, is not pseudepigraphal; nor was it originally anonymous. The “teacher” (Barn. 1.8; 4.9) appears to have been known to the original recipients (Barn. 1.1–4). See James Carleton Paget, The Epistle of Barnabas: Outlook and Background, Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament 2/64 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1994), 3–7.
17. Cf. 1 Cor 6:19; Ign. Phld. 7.2; Barn. 6.15.
18. Cf. 1 Cor 3:16; 2 Cor 6:16; Eph 2:21; 1 Pet 2:5; Ign. Eph. 9.1; Magn. 7.2.
19. For a helpful survey of the issues involved, see Leslie W. Barnard, “The ‘Epistle of Barnabas’ and Its Contemporary Setting,” in Aufstieg und Niedergang der Römischen Welt Part II, Principat, ed. Wolfgang Haase, vol. 27, 1, Religion (Vorkonstantinische Christentum: Apostolischen Väter und Apologeten) (Berlin: De Gruyter, 1993), 172–80. See also Ferdinand-Rupert Prostmeier, Der Barnabasbrief, Kommentar zu den Apostolischen Vätern 8, ed. Norbert Brox, G. Kretschmar, and Kurt Niederwimmer (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1999), 119–30.
20. See Aune, Prophecy in Early Christianity, 291–93. Aune also sees Ignatius, To the Trallians 5.1–2 as a claim to have had heavenly revelation (Aune, Prophecy in Early Christianity, 294). However, Ignatius’s language there could just as easily refer to the deep things of spiritual knowledge and understanding, not necessarily to things given by vision, dream, or special revelation.
21. Franz Joseph Dölger, “ ‘Gottes-Stimme’ bei Ignatius von Antiochien, Kelson und Origenes,” in Antike und Christentum: kultur- und religionsgeschichtliche Studien, ed. Franz Joseph Dölger, vol. 5 (Münster: Aschendorff, 1976), 218–23; Peter Meinhold, Studien zu Ignatius von Antiochien, Veröffentlichungen des Instituts für Europäische Geschichte Mainz, vol. 97 (Wiesbaden: Steiner, 1979), 8–10; William R. Schoedel, “Polycarp of Smyrna and Ignatius of Antioch,” in Aufstieg und Niedergang der Römischen Welt Part II, Principat, ed. Wolfgang Haase, vol. 27, 1, Religion (Vorkonstantinische Christentum: Apostolischen Väter und Apologeten) (Berlin: De Gruyter, 1993), 205–6.
22. Ignatius recounted six distinct statements that he attributed to the Holy Spirit’s revelation expressed through the prophetic utterance, all of which he reiterated in some form in the letters he wrote after this experience in Philadelphia: (1) pay attention to the bishop and to the presbytery and deacons (Ign. Pol. 6.1 and Smyrn. 8.1); (2) do nothing without the bishop (Trall. 7.2 and Smyrn. 8.1; 8.2); (3) guard your bodies as the temple of God (Eph. 15.3); (4) love unity (Magn. 1.2; 13.2; Phld. 8.1; and Pol. 1.2); (5) flee from divisions (Phld. 2.1 and Smyrn. 8.1); (6) become imitators of Jesus Christ, just as he is of his Father (Eph. 10.3 and Rom. 6.3).
23. It is often asserted that around AD 107 the governor of Syria, named Palma, arrested Ignatius of Antioch and transported him from Antioch to Rome. Having recently expanded his own borders into Arabia and thus desiring to celebrate this victory with the emperor (Cassius Dio, Hist. rom. 68.14, 16), Palma offered Trajan the bishop of Antioch as a gift. This would place the composition of Ignatius’s seven letters around 107. However, such a precise dating of Ignatius is not certain, so most Ignatius scholars settle on an approximate date of 110. Theoretically, Ignatius’s letters could have been written any year between 98 and 117, the years of Trajan’s reign, though the extremes of these dates seem less likely. For an overview of scholarship on critical issues, see Schoedel, “Ignatius of Antioch,” 285–349.
24. Jeffrey B. Russell, A History of Medieval Christianity: Prophecy and Order (New York: Crowell, 1968), 5.
25. See A. D. Clarke, Serve the Community of the Church: Christians as Leaders and Ministers (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000).
26. In an article contrasting the authoritative offices of the church with the role of the prophets, Ted Campbell fails to mention Ignatius’s prophetic utterance and instead reads Ignatius as if the New Testament prophets were affirmed by the bishop as long as they submitted to the properly ordained bishops (Campbell, “Charismatic Prophecy as Loyal Opposition,” 79–80).
27. Barclay Swete, The Holy Spirit in the Ancient Church (London: Macmillan, 1912), 14. Hauschild notes, “Die Tradition des urchristlichen Prophetentums wird hier auf den Amtsträger angewandt” (Hauschild, Pneumatologie in der Alten Kirche, 7n6).
28. For the earliest articulations of the consensus on Ignatian authenticity and date, see Adolf von Harnack, Die Chronologie der altchristlichen Litteratur bis Eusebius, 2 vols., Geschichte der altchristlichen Litterature Part II (Leipzig: Hinrichs, 1897–1904); Joseph B. Lightfoot, The Apostolic Fathers, Part 2: S. Ignatius, S. Polycarp, vol. 1 (London: Macmillan, 1889); Theodor Zahn, Ignatius von Antiochien (Gotha: Friedrich Andreas Perthes, 1873). The consensus has not gone without some challenges: H. Delafosse, “Nouvel examen des lettres d’Ignace d’Antioche,” Revue d’histoire et de littéraire religieuse 8 (1922): 477–533; Robert Joly, Le dossier d’Ignace d’Antioche, Faculté de Philosophie et Lettres 69 (Brussels: Éditions de l’université de Bruxelles, 1979); Thomas Lechner, Ignatius adversus Valentinianos?: Chronologische und theologiegeschichtliche Studien zu den Briefen des Ignatius von Antiochien, Supplements to Vigiliae Christianae 47 (Leiden: Brill, 1999); Josep Rius-Camps, The Four Authentic Letters of Ignatius, the Martyr: A Critical Study Based on the Anomalies Contained in the Textus Receptus, trans. Kathleen England, Christianismos 2 (Rome: Pontificium Institutum Orientalium Studiorum, 1979); Daniel Völter, Die ignatianischen Briefe auf ihren Ursprung untersucht (Tübingen: Heckenhauer, 1892); Reinoud Weijenborg, “Is Evagrius Ponticus the Author of the Longer Recension of the Ignatian Letters?,” Antonianum 44 (1969): 339–47; Reinoud Weijenborg, Les lettres d’Ignace d’Antioche, étude de critique littéraire et de théologie, trans. Barthélemy Héroux (Leiden: Brill, 1969). Supporters of the consensus are too numerous and obvious to catalogue, but some of the most recent examples of scholars who maintain authenticity include Allen Brent, Ignatius of Antioch: A Martyr Bishop and the Origin of Episcopacy (New York: Continuum, 2007); Ehrman, The Apostolic Fathers, vol. 1; Funk, Die Apostolischen Väter; Mikael Isacson, To Each Their Own Letter: Structure, Themes, and Rhetorical Strategies in the Letters of Ignatius of Antioch, Coniectanea biblica: New Testament Series 42, ed. Bengt Holmberg and Kari Syreeni (Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell, 2004); Henning Paulsen, Die Apostolischen Väter, 2. neubearbeitete ed., vol. 2, Die Briefe des Ignatius von Antiochia und der Brief des Polykarp von Smyrna, Handbuch zum Neuen Testament 18 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1985), 4; Paul R. Trebilco, The Early Christians in Ephesus from Paul to Ignatius, Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament 2/166 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2004), 631–32.
29. This image is perhaps one of a teacher (on the chair) with his pupils (on the bench. See J. Reiling, Hermas and Christian Prophecy: A Study of the Eleventh Mandate, Supplements to Novum Testamentum 37 (Leiden: Brill, 1973), 31.
30. Reiling interprets πνεῦμα throughout Mandate 11 as the Holy Spirit (Reiling, Hermas and Christian Prophecy, 97–121). Any strict identification is fraught with problems, however, so my present identification of πνεῦμα as a supernatural “disposition” must be regarded as tentative.
31. Thus, perhaps, similar to use of Latin animus for “disposition” or “inclination.”
32. Norbert Brox, Der Hirt des Hermas (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1991), 541–46.
33. Carolyn Osiek, The Shepherd of Hermas: A Commentary, Hermeneia, ed. Helmut Koester (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1999), 32. Also see Geza Vermes, The Dead Sea Scrolls in English, 4th ed. (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1995), 73–74.
34. Clare K. Rothschild, “Somatic Effects of Irascibility in Hermas, Mandates 5.1.3 (33.3),” in Clare K. Rothschild, New Essays on the Apostolic Fathers, Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament 375 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2017), 242.
35. See Osiek, Shepherd of Hermas, 10–12.
36. Aune, Prophecy in Early Christianity, 310.
37. Campbell does precisely this when he argues that “the work may be dated rather accurately to 148 C.E. (or the months immediately before and after it) in Rome” and therefore it “bears significance in our discussion because, like the Revelation in the New Testament, it is an intact example of early Christian prophecy” (Campbell, “Charismatic Prophecy as Loyal Opposition,” 81).
38. Osiek, Shepherd of Hermas, 20. See also Leslie W. Barnard, “The Shepherd of Hermas in Recent Study,” Heythrop Theological Journal 9 (1968): 32, who dates Visions 1–4 in the late first century and the remainder of the work around 135.
39. See Paul Hartog, ed., Polycarp’s Epistle to the Philippians and the Martyrdom of Polycarp: Introduction, Text and Commentary, Oxford Apostolic Fathers (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2018), 314–15.
40. The notoriously poorly preserved and problematic Latin text reads, In eclesia populo Neque inter profetas conpletum numero Neque Inter apostolos In finē temporum potest. Samuel Prideaux Tregelles, Canon Muratorianus: The Earliest Catalogue of the Books of the New Testament, Edited with Notes (Oxford: Clarendon, 1867), 20. The translation used here is that of Bruce M. Metzger, The Canon of the New Testament: Its Origin, Development, and Significance (Oxford: Clarendon, 1987), 307.
41. This conclusion is a slight modification of the “general consensus” described (and rebutted) in Christopher Forbes, Prophecy and Inspired Speech in Early Christianity and Its Hellenistic Environment, Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament 2/75 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1995), 247–48.
42. Latin: Nec invocationibus angelicis facit aliquid, nec incantationibus, nec reliqua prava curiositate; sed munde, et pure, et manifeste orationes dirigens ad Dominum, qui omnia fecit, et nomen Domini nostri Jesu Christi invocans, virtutes ad utilitates hominum, sed non ad seductionem perficit.