That early Christians saw martyrs as imitators of Christ is commonly acknowledged. Strikingly, Moss manages to render the familiar trope of mimetic suffering not only strange but provocative. By exploring the convergences of martyrology and Christology in the pre-Constantinian period, she contributes significantly to our understanding of both. In particular, she illumines the extent to which the literary acts of martyrs are powerful sites of diverse and creative Christological thinking, rather than mere receptors of scriptural or doctrinal tradition. In making this case, she expands the category of Christology, first by attempting to uncover more popular views and second by treating the martyr as a Christological figure—an “other Christ.” This latter move is clearly intended to shock theological sensibilities, unsettling any temptation to project Nicene and Chalcedonian assertions of Christ's ontological uniqueness onto earlier (or more popular) thought.
The first chapter establishes the intellectual context from which ideas and practices of Christian martyrdom emerged. Moss traces the call to “suffer like Jesus” through texts that predate the literary production of acts of martyrs—the Pauline epistles, Mark, Luke-Acts, 1 Peter, Hebrews, Revelation, First Clement, Ignatius. As she puts it, “by the time of the composition of the acta martyrum, the interpretation of individual suffering as a means of emulating Christ was assumed” (20). Her concern is less to explore why this was so than to demonstrate that it was so. The chapter is animated by a polemical interest in combating what Moss refers to as “imitatio anxiety,” which in her view pervades New Testament scholarship, reflecting latent anti-Catholicism, a defensive doctrinal orthodoxy, and/or instinctive resistance to “the inescapable but repugnant conclusion that dying for Christ may be a central, rather than peripheral, part of Christian experience” (21). This modern anxiety is also an ancient one, shared, for example, by the author of Luke-Acts, Moss argues.
The second chapter focuses on the various ways in which literary portraits of martyrs consistently (albeit not identically) represent the martyrs as imitators of Christ's suffering and death. In this respect, every martyrology is a fresh interpretation of the gospels (as well as other scriptural texts), whether explicitly or implicitly. This is “more than a neat literary or rhetoric trick,” Moss insists, arguing that presenting a martyr as an imitator of Christ was, in effect, “presenting the martyr as an alter Christus,” which in turn “created the potential for the complete assimilation of the martyr to Christ” (46). In some cases, as Moss points out, the imitation even seems to exceed the original.
The martyrs' deaths mime Christ's in salvific function as well as narrative form, Moss argues in her third chapter. Prior scholarship has tended to focus on the element of sacrifice, but Moss suggests that this has been both overemphasized and misinterpreted, particularly when comparison is made with Jewish martyrology. “In those few instances in the martyr acts when sacrificial language is employed, there is almost no mention of its expiatory or purificatory function. . . . Unlike 2 and 4 Maccabees, there is little sense that individual Christians die to atone for the accumulated sin or guilt of the people.” She adds: “If we wish to trace out the development of Christian martyrdom from its presumed roots in Jewish tradition, we should be careful to note the ways in which Christian instantiations differ from their predecessors. This is one such case. Here, in discussions of the ‘sacrifice’ of the martyr, sin does not rear its ugly head” (87). Moss goes on, in a more constructive vein, to suggest that the model of Christus Victor and the apocalyptic theme of cosmic battle are more significant than sacrifice for understanding the soteriology of martyrdom. The martyrs are exemplars of virtue, inciting all Christians to imitate them by becoming warriors in the battle with Satan.
If the earliest acta focus on the imitation of Christ's suffering and death, the developing cult of martyrs turns attention to the martyrs' afterlife and their particular powers. These are the subject of Moss's fourth and fifth chapters. The martyrs' status in the heavenly realm has frequently been compared to that of angels, but Moss urges that here too they are imitators of Christ first and foremost, resurrected and exalted, enthroned and reigning from heaven while other Christians await the final judgment. Martyrs are described as “children of God” and “coheirs of Christ.” “In their postmortem exaltation, the martyrs share the status of Christ as enthroned children of God,” Moss emphasizes (164). Already in antiquity, some Christians—Augustine, for example—resisted such popular themes, insisting on the distinction between Christ and the martyrs, while others—Victricius of Rouen and John of Damascus, for example—verged on polytheism in their enthusiastic celebration of the saintly martyrs.
Moss's argument will not convince every reader, but it will stimulate thought, both about history and about theology. Some may find her occasionally polemical tone and frequently dramatic language distracting. My own disappointments arise primarily from opportunities missed. Although Moss repeatedly stresses that influence runs two ways for martyrology and Christology, she does not explore the possibility that a passion-centered Christology is always already entangled with martyrology. For her, the gospels—more specifically, the Gospel of Mark—seem to be prior to any ideology of martyrdom logically as well as chronologically. Although she initially emphasizes the contribution of the book to the history of biblical interpretation, this strand of argument is also underdeveloped: much more could be said about the implications of the fact that the figures of martyrs threaten to exceed, supersede, or displace the gospel texts—and the figure of Christ—that they interpret. Comparisons with hagiography and engagement with scholarship on hagiography would here be especially relevant. Finally, Moss never really addresses satisfyingly the potential implications of her argument for the relation of Christian martyrology to Jewish tradition, a topic that has loomed large in prior scholarship on martyrdom. But perhaps every book should leave its readers desiring more!
