Saints Pontian and Hippolytus: When Enemies Become Friends In The Lord

T

hey began on opposite sides of a divided Church. They ended side by side as martyrs. Today the Church remembers St Pontian and St Hippolytus, two men who suffered and died for the faith in the mines of Sardinia. What makes their story remarkable is that before they became prison-mates, they were enemies.

St Pontian served as pope from 230 to 235. During his reign, he confirmed the condemnation of the great theologian Origen and some of his controversial teachings. In 235, Pontian was banished to Sardinia. He resigned—the first pope known to have done so—so that the Church would not be left without a shepherd. With him in the mines was St Hippolytus, a brilliant theologian but also a severe rigorist. He criticized the popes of his time for being too lenient toward sinners and penitents. Eventually, his opposition went so far that he became a rival bishop of Rome, traditionally regarded as the first antipope.

Then came the great irony. Hippolytus was also banished to Sardinia. The pope and the antipope ended up in the same prison. The two men who could not remain together in the Church were now forced to live together in the mines. Somewhere in their suffering, something changed. Hippolytus was reconciled with the Church and with Pontian, his prison-mate. In the end, they shared the same crown of martyrdom, and the Church now celebrates them together on the same feast day.

Controversy made them arch-enemies. Suffering made them companions. Christ made them brothers again. Pontian and Hippolytus are just a few of many others in the history of the church who fought each other because of differences in beliefs. Sometimes, we think of those people who were excommunicated or declared heretics as necessarily bad people. On the contrary, they were a holy company who lived saintly lives as they searched for the truth. If it were not for them, and the shedding of their own blood, perhaps we would not have gone this far in terms of understanding the depths of Christian faith. Such was the costly call of Pontian and Hippolytus—to defend the faith with their blood. There were times when they went against each other because each one was trying to emphasize one area. Another example is that of Peter and Paul, who had contrasting views on whether or not the Gentiles should first follow the Jewish practices like circumcision before they can become Christians. At the end of their debates, they always find a common path where people’s differences are reconciled.

Amidst the tension between Pontian and Hippolytus, when both were about to drink from the cup of martyrdom together, they reconciled. Hippolytus humbly admitted his excesses of being an overzealous disciplinarian. What the two of them failed to learn while in their prime, they learned in the pain and desolation of imprisonment, torture, and death.

Finally, let me say a final word about Matthew’s take on reconciliation, which is the source of the gospel reading for today’s feast (Mt 18:21-19:1). While I believe that this theme is also present in the other gospels, Matthew gives a unique perspective on the meaning of forgiveness as a Jewish Christian. As we all know, the Jewish people have gone through a lot of persecution throughout history, which caused resentment even within Jewish families. “If your brother listens to you, you have won him over.” But what if your brother or sister will not listen? This part is uniquely Matthew's. After outlining certain steps to take, Peter asks Jesus, “Lord, if my brother sins against me, how often must I forgive him? Jesus, uncompromisingly says, “I say to you, not seven times but seventy-seven times… forgive.” Which is another way of saying—always and without limit until you have lost count, already still choose to forgive. Is there any other choice? Well, there is, but it is like choosing heaven or hell. You can remain bitter until the end, waiting for the chance to get even, fantasizing the confrontation when you can let it all out and have the last laugh. But this is a kind of bondage at its worst. It is self-torture with a mistaken view that part of heaven's joy is looking down at the endless misery of those damned in hell. Jesus shows us the other path. And he not only sets the standard of forgiveness by drinking from the cup of suffering and death, but he also offers to lighten the burden for us by forgiving. If Jesus Christ was willing to release us from the debt we owed him, who are we not to release those who have offended us?

Let us pray: Lord, give us the courage always to forgive. Saints Pontian and Hippolytus, pray for us. Fr JM Manzano SJ