The Lost Letters of Pergamum: A Story from the New Testament World

Book Review • Bruce W. Longenecker, The Lost Letters of Pergamum: A Story from the New Testament World, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids: Baker Publishing Group, 2016), 210 pp. Kindle. $14,

Read time: 8 min

The Lost Letters of Pergamum is not your typical historical fiction. It takes shape not as an unfolding love drama or war adventure but as the written correspondence between two erudite, literary-minded, and cultured individuals living during the first century A.D. Both are Roman citizens. One is a Christian; one is not. The book’s format—a collection of fictional letters allegedly excavated from the city of Pergamum—functions as a matrix charged with historical dates, people, places, events, and stories from the early days of Christianity. Fictional correspondence allows Bruce W. Longenecker a unique vantage to leverage a tremendously informative yet accessible, concise, and engaging look into the intersection of early Christianity and its Greco-Roman world.

A Believable Plot Rooted in First-Century Context

Longenecker’s plot is clever and believable. Two men become introduced by a mutual acquaintance based on their shared interest in history. They begin corresponding and eventually end up discussing Jesus of Nazareth. The two men are Antipas and Luke. Antipas is a proud Roman and prominent civic benefactor who from the cities of Tyre and Caesarea has retired for health reasons to Pergamum, “the citadel of the gods,” a city with strong imperial moorings and deep-seated pagan tradition. Luke, the beloved physician, is no stranger to us. As a Hellenized Roman citizen who spoke and wrote in Greek, Luke was a valuable traveling companion to Paul the Apostle. Luke had traveled with Paul to Ephesus years before, and it is there that Longenecker positions him. When their correspondence eventually takes up the person of Jesus Christ, Luke’s monologue concerning Jesus (The Gospel of Luke) becomes the focus of debate between Luke and Antipas. The name Antipas should also be somewhat familiar to us, as it is addressed by Jesus himself in Revelation 2:12–13.

“And to the angel of the church in Pergamum, write: ‘The words of him who has the sharp two-edged sword. I know where you dwell, where Satan's throne is. Yet you hold fast my name, and you did not deny my faith even in the days of Antipas, my faithful witness, who was killed among you, where Satan dwells.’”

Longenecker creates a backstory to the martyrdom of Antipas, beginning with his acquaintance with Luke and leading to his conversion to Christ in a small community of Pergamese Christians. Ultimately, we read of his martyrdom in the very arena where he once cheered as others were slaughtered in the name honor, justice, and the glory of Rome.

Connecting Historical Figures: The Role of Calpurnius and Theophilus

Antipas and Luke’s mutual acquaintance is Calpurnius of Ephesus, the son of Theophilus. This Theophilus is he to whom Luke formerly addressed by name his Gospel (1:3) and his account of the Acts of the Apostles (1:1). The first impression that Antipas strikes in his initial letter to Calpurnius is that of a man wholly committed to the glory of Rome, a man loyal to the Roman gods and entirely in support of the gladiatorial games. After writing to invite Calpurnius to the games held in Pergamum by Antipas’ friend, Rufinus—who is sponsoring a series of games in honor of his deceased father—Calpurnius tells Antipas of Luke.

“Since you are new to the area, you might be interested to know about a close associate of my household, an esteemed doctor and scholar named Luke…[He] shares with you a keen interest in history. Before his death, my father, Theophilus, commissioned Luke to write a historical account of an intriguing man from Galilee and his followers.”

And thus, the saga begins. Antipas learns of Luke’s identification as a Christian throughout fairly short correspondences. He warns Luke, as a friend, that Christians are of ill repute in the empire, being associated with numerous social ills, not the least of which was the burning of Rome. Longenecker outlines a series of historical arguments from the pen of Luke as to why Nero himself and not the Christians were to blame. I love Luke’s winsome but direct speech. He displays surgical precision, slicing up the misinformed critiques of Antipas—quite fitting for a physician. It is fascinating, too, to see how Antipas responds to Luke’s sharp critiques of Nero and the Emperor Domitian.

A First-Century Roman’s Perspective on Jesus: Antipas Reads Luke’s Gospel

After Luke sends Antipas a manuscript of his Gospel monograph, Antipas and a friend begin slowly reading through and discussing Luke’s account and writing Luke with their observations. This is most helpful as a format because Longenecker does a fantastic job depicting the likely perspective of a first-century Roman on Luke’s Gospel and how they may react to the same verses and chapters we embrace. Jesus is no easy sell. Antipas has objections, including the lowly region of Jesus’ upbringing (Nazareth); Jesus’ strange, “antisocial,” and “acetic” forerunner, John the Baptist; possible anti-Roman sentiment in the prayers of Mary and Zacharias; and even Jesus’ sermon on the mount, taking exception to Jesus’ ethic to lend without hoping to be repaid. But Luke defends the honor (and even the shalom-bringing virtue and ethic) of Jesus as one that Roman society would do well to heed.

Antipas’ Transformation Through Christian Community

The narrative begins to get good when Antipas tells Luke of his moving past curiosity and skepticism into engagement, at Luke’s advice, with a fledgling group of Christians in Pergamum. Antipas is immediately “struck by their lack of concern for social codes of honor and shame.” He marvels that everyone (even household servants) is treated with equal dignity and that the stark pecking order to which he is accustomed seems nonexistent. Antipas listens as he attends these Christian gatherings as they share their faith in Christ, their respective needs, and their care for each other. His Roman pride contrasts with what he sees as “an empire [of a different sort than Rome] consisting wholly of family members who care for and support one another.” Among the bonds he forms in the group, Antipas begins to feel like one of them. He develops a particular concern for Nouna, a little girl whose parents went missing, and for Demetrius and his wife, Diotis, who have no children and have taken Nouna into their home. Antipas acts as their loving benefactor and is distraught when Demetrius is arrested as an enemy of the state (for being a Christian) and incarcerated. Nouna, who already was trying to recover from malnutrition and sickness, is now suffering from the emotional trauma of seeing her adopted father arrested and dragged away. Eventually, it becomes evident that Demetrius will be executed as an “atheist” at the next gladiatorial games—the very games in which Antipas had taken so much pride and delight. The games lose all appeal to him. With new eyes, he now sees what he once viewed as a badge of honor, a shackle of idolatry and injustice.

The Final Act of Sacrifice: Antipas’s Martyrdom

The climax of the correspondence with Luke comes not from Antipas's pen but from Antonius, the man most responsible for Antipas’ conversion in the small group. Antonius writes to Luke, detailing the pending execution of Demetrius and how Antipas broke rank and stood in Demetrius's place at the games. Luke is told of Antipas’ resolute speech to the Emperor about his newfound faith and allegiance to Jesus Christ and of his request:

“Let your mercy fall upon Demetrius, and your justice fall upon me, great Domitian.”

The Emperor concedes, and Antipas is stripped, placed in a gutted steer, and burned alive. Demetrius is released.

A Story of Redemption and Substitution

Numerous facets of this story are moving and touching. One is the idea of substitution. Antipas—a symbol of works righteousness, human achievement, and goodness (think, benefaction)—arrives at a saving knowledge of Jesus as Savior and kyrios. His view of Rome downsizes, his view of his merit disintegrates, and his allegiance to Christ is birthed. By this sacrificial death, Demetrius can take care of his family, especially little Nouna. Antipas encounters Christ slowly. He is no sudden convert or easy prey to a pernicious and seditious religion. He is a conscientious Roman who is brought to see the emptiness of living for “one’s reputation.” He decides his life is worth most when living (and dying) for the One, true Lord and Master of all. His martyrdom catches not only the attention of Domitian, the teeming spectators in the amphitheater, or the small band of Christians. His martyrdom arrests the attention of the Lord. Jesus later addresses the church at Pergamum and speaks affirmingly of “Antipas, my faithful witness.”

The lesson Antipas learned in the last few months of his life is similar to what Luke recored of the Apostle Paul a decade before.

“But I do not account my life of any value nor as precious to myself, if only I may finish my course and the ministry that I received from the Lord Jesus, to testify to the gospel of the grace of God” (Acts 20:24).

The Lost Letters of Pergamum re-inspire me to live with such abandon. ❖