Ever since Christianity was born from the blood of Jesus Christ, it has preached the revolutionary view that each human being is given value by God and deserves respect and protection. From the beginning, this revolutionary view has motivated men and women of faith to enter into a rebellion of love: upholding the rights of the poor, the dignity of minorities, and the value of those with disabilities. Today, we as believers fight this battle for the inherent value of life on a more fundamental front. We fight for the protection of the unborn so that they may live to serve Christ. However, our battle is by no means a new one. In fact, Christians at the dawn of Christianity waged a largely unsung war against a certain heinous Roman practice, and this struggle forever changed the way our societies treated our born and unborn.

I am currently in high school, studying ancient Greek texts. Recently, while translating the early Christian writing of the Epistle to Diognetus, I was surprised to learn of this forgotten Christian crusade on behalf of the lives of infants. The unknown author writes to Diognetus about the “unusual” habits and behaviors of the early believers. In doing so, he seeks to show Diognetus that Christians are no ordinary people, but a group enlightened by the Spirit of Truth to oppose the immoral ways of the world. The unknown writer singles out a certain practice with regards to infants that shines a light on a righteous rebellion largely forgotten by people today. “They [Christians] marry and have children as everybody else, but they do not throw away their begotten.” This word ριπτομαι, which I have translated as “throw away,” bears a deeper, more sinister meaning than “throw away”; ριπτομαι is the term used for the Greco-Roman practice of abandoning infants to nature.

In the ancient world, tens of thousands of undesirable newborns were left in public places, in forests, or even in garbage dumps. Everywhere from the city of Ashkelon in Israel to the colonies in Britain, archeologists have discovered piles of baby bodies, evidence of this heinous Roman practice.

Ancient “civilized” society saw this practice of abandoning helpless infants as perfectly legal and morally acceptable. The Twelve Tables, the basis of the Roman legal system, states that “A notably deformed child shall be killed immediately,” and that “To a father . . . shall be given over a son the power of life and death.” Babies with defects were almost always cast away, and even children who were perfectly healthy could be disposed of, if they were seen as an economic liability. The Romans hardened their hearts to these little ones and came to see child abandonment as a virtue to protect the lives of healthy, grown Roman citizens.

By the time Christianity began to emerge, the practice of child abandonment was systematic and epidemic. However, the beliefs of the early Christians led them to act in ways contrary to those of the Roman world around them. As Christian history author Sandra Sweeny Silver notes, “The Christian idea that each individual person has worth because they were created by God was foreign to the lies of pagan society where the State, the tribe, the collective was the only value they knew.” The early Christians took their faith very seriously and were ready to oppose any sinful practice of the world if it meant following Christ closer. When confronted with the practice of child abandonment, the early believers were determined to fight against it and eventually end it once and for all. The silent rebellion of the early church began.

When I was around eleven years old, our family went to Rome, and there we visited the Catacombs of St. Callixtus—the burial place of a half million early Christians, including many martyrs. The tunnels were dingy and eerie, reminding me of death. But a few small graves told a different story—a story of Christians fighting for life. In worn letters these graves stated that buried here is an adopted infant. The early Christians found these unwanted undesirables, took them under their protection and raised them up in the love of Christ. If the infants unfortunately passed away, the Christians gave them a proper burial.

As the love of Christ spurred them on, many early Christians took stronger action. Believers began to call out these immoral Roman practices in the church. As the Didache, an early church catechism, stated, “Do not murder a child in abortion nor kill the begotten.” Finally, when Christians reached political prominence, they put restrictions on child abandonment. In 318, Augustine acknowledged the inherent value of children by restraining child abandonment, and finally in 374 this heinous practice was abandoned outright.

This abandonment of children was the common ancient version of abortion, the fruit of the belief that some human life does not have value and can be promptly ended if the child is deemed unworthy to live. This was not a practice confined to the Romans but was a worldwide genocide of innocent children deemed morally acceptable, and at times honorable. However, the early Christians, following the same trajectory of Jewish moral teaching that led the prophets to inveigh against child sacrifice to pagan gods, knew better, and their actions were a silent rebellion that in the end killed this corrupt practice.

Today we are engaged in a similar war against a desensitized society’s murder of children. We are facing an epidemic bent on silencing those who have no voice. However, recalling the early church’s silent rebellion, we can find hope. We can take comfort in knowing that our ancestors fought the same battle and gain insight from the saints of the past on how to win the world through the love of Christ. If we persevere, we too will be victorious.

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Original Bio:

Blake Schaper is a homeschool student in high school with a love for math, philosophy, law, foreign languages, and political science. Adopted at birth, Blake hopes to be a voice for the unborn and to use his God-given gifts to help end abortion worldwide. Blake loves reading, participating in speech and debate, having deep discussions, and playing board games with his family.