Marcion of Sinope was a bishop and affluent shipowner from the chief port city of Sinope in Pontus, located on the southern coast of the Black Sea. He was the son of Bishop Philologus of Sinope, traditionally identified as one of the Seventy Disciples. Born around 70 C.E., Marcion began his ministry in Anatolia circa 98 C.E. as a disciple of the Apostle John. His work was already known and commented upon by Polycarp by 115 C.E. Marcion died a martyr in the Colosseum near the end of 154 C.E., having lived approximately 85 years.

Marcion’s legacy is monumental in the history of Christianity. He authored the first work of Christian apologetics, compiled the earliest Christian hymnbook, and produced the first Latin translations of Christian scripture. His most enduring and transformative achievement, however, was the compilation of the first Christian Bible—the Testamentum. This canon included the Gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ, as revealed to the Apostle Paul, and the original ten Pauline epistles.

To assemble this sacred text, Marcion and his fleet retraced the missionary journeys of the Apostle Paul across the Roman Empire. He visited the Pre-Nicene churches established by Paul, gathering and preserving the apostle’s original Greek writings and letters. For the first time in Christian history, these documents were transcribed and bound in a codex—a book format—making the Gospel and epistles widely accessible to the faithful.

In the course of compiling these scriptures, Marcion discerned a stark theological divide. He compared the God revealed through Jesus Christ with the violent, retributive deity portrayed in the Hebrew Bible. His conclusion was decisive: they were not the same God. To articulate this revelation, he authored Antithesis, a seminal text in which he set forth his arguments and scriptural comparisons. This work sparked a profound schism among early Christian leaders, with each faction branding the other as heretical.

Around the late 130s C.E., Marcion traveled to Rome and joined the Roman Christian community, offering a significant donation of 200,000 sesterces to the church. However, theological disputes quickly emerged. On July 15, 144 C.E., he was formally denounced as a heretic and excommunicated by the Church of Rome, which returned his donation.

His influence endured long after his death, laying the foundation for a church that once spanned the known world and shaped the earliest formation of Christian scripture.

The Marcionite Christians are among the earliest and most influential communities in the history of Christianity. They are credited with numerous foundational contributions to the faith, including the compilation of the first Christian Bible (Testamentum), the creation of the earliest Christian hymnbook, and the composition of the first work of Christian apologetics. Remarkably, the oldest known inscription bearing the name of Jesus was discovered carved into the entrance of a Marcionite church in Syria.

This church was erected by Paul of Lebaba, a Marcionite presbyter, in the village of Lebaba on October 1st, 318 C.E. The inscription, written in reference to Jesus Christ, reads as follows:

“The meeting-house of the Marcionites, in the village of Lebaba, of the Lord and Saviour Jesus the Good – Erected by the forethought of Paul a presbyter, in the year 630 [Seleucid era].”

Discovered by French archaeologists in 1870, this inscription stands as the oldest surviving reference to Jesus Christ in a Christian context carved in stone.

The Marcionite Church rapidly became one of the largest and most widespread Christian movements of the early centuries, maintaining a strong presence across the Roman Empire and beyond. However, during the fourth century, as the Catholic Church gained imperial favor, Marcionite Christians—along with other non-Catholic sects—were subjected to systematic persecution. Roman emperors, now aligned with Catholic orthodoxy, sought to extinguish all divergent forms of Christianity, including Marcionism.

Despite the growing hostility within the Empire, Marcionite Christianity endured well beyond Rome’s borders. It continued to thrive in regions such as Syria and northeastern Persia into the tenth century, preserving its distinctive doctrines and practices.

Central to Marcionite belief was the conviction that the Apostle Paul alone had received and transmitted the full and true message of Jesus Christ. Only Paul’s writings were considered authoritative scripture. Marcion’s theological focus was deeply rooted in the Pauline tradition, which he saw as radically distinct from—and indeed incompatible with—the teachings of the Hebrew Bible.

Marcion regarded all efforts to reconcile the Gospel of Jesus Christ with the law-bound, wrathful deity of the Hebrew scriptures as a fundamental distortion of Christian truth. For him, Paul’s contrast between law and grace, wrath and mercy, works and faith, flesh and spirit, sin and righteousness, death and life, represented the essence of divine revelation. In this, he saw the pure expression of the Gospel—a message of deliverance, not bondage; of spirit, not flesh; of grace, not judgment.

Following Marcion’s evangelistic mission across the Roman Empire in the second century, a number of energetic responses emerged—many of which can be seen as indirect reactions to his foundational work. Among these were the expansion of the New Testament canon, the development of Apostolic Tradition, the formulation of the Rule of Faith, and the doctrine of Apostolic Succession. Each of these innovations served to counter Marcion’s uncompromising commitment to Prima Scriptura—the principle that scripture alone, not tradition or hierarchy, is the foundation of Christian belief.

The doctrine of Apostolic Succession enabled emerging Catholic authorities to claim divine legitimacy in determining which texts were to be regarded as “authentic” and which were “spurious.” This conferred on Church leadership the power to enforce doctrinal conformity, often by retroactively assigning apostolic origin to texts that aligned with their theological agenda. As a result, a flood of gospels, interpolated epistles, and forged writings began to circulate—many bearing false claims of apostolic authorship. Criteria for canonization were arbitrarily established: a text had to claim apostolic origin, or at least connection to an apostle, and it had to reflect beliefs already widespread within the Catholic faction. This framework, known as “Apostolic Tradition,” effectively institutionalized the attribution of Catholic customs and doctrines to the Apostles—regardless of historical authenticity.

Because many of these writings lacked legitimate claims to apostolic origin, elaborate legends and theological rationales were constructed to justify their inclusion in the canon. This is a particularly sobering realization for modern Protestants who adhere to Sola Scriptura, often unaware that several New Testament books owe their canonical status solely to assertions of tradition rather than demonstrable apostolic authorship. As Pastor Dietrich Bonhoeffer aptly observed, “Protestants, in denying the authority of tradition, have cut off the branch on which they sit.”

Marcion’s impact on early Christianity also triggered an explosion of apologetic and polemical literature. Forged “semi-scriptures” proliferated, many of which were explicitly crafted to refute Marcionite theology. Among these are the Pastoral Epistles—widely recognized as second-century interpolations—which contain clear anti-Marcionite themes and were likely revised to reinforce Catholic doctrinal positions. Similarly, the Apostles’ Creed, generally understood by scholars to be a later composition, was formulated not merely as a statement of faith but as a reactive tool to combat Marcionite beliefs. As historian Arthur C. McGiffert noted, the Creed appears designed specifically to temper the Marcionite understanding of God.

The renowned scholar Adolf von Harnack went so far as to describe Marcion as the “father of the Catholic Church”—not because Marcion founded it, but because the Catholic Church largely defined itself in opposition to his teachings. The Roman Church’s reaction to the rapid spread of Marcionite congregations across the Empire during the early second century compelled it to construct a more centralized hierarchy and formalize its canon, doctrine, and institutional presence.

Marcion’s introduction of a clearly defined and limited scriptural canon presented a direct challenge to the developing Catholic tradition. His Testamentum, containing only the Gospel of the Lord and the ten original Pauline epistles, forced the Catholic Church to confront a difficult question: if Marcion’s canon was not the true one, then what was? In response, the Church began the long and contested process of expanding the New Testament—a process rooted not in original apostolic witness, but in theological reaction to Marcion’s radical clarity.

Much of what is known about Marcion and his theological work comes to us through the writings of his detractors. Notably, every major critique of Marcion’s teachings was written posthumously—after his death, when he could no longer defend himself or refute the accusations leveled against him. Among his most vocal opponents was the early Catholic Church Father Tertullian, who alleged that Marcion had “mutilated” the Gospel of Luke, selectively removing passages that did not align with his beliefs. However, modern scholarship increasingly supports the theory of Marcionite Priority—the view that Marcion’s Evangelicon is the earlier text, and that what we now know as the Gospel of Luke is a later, expanded version edited to reflect emerging Catholic theology.

Some scholars suggest that this editorial transformation was undertaken by Theophilus, bishop of Antioch, around 169 C.E. According to this view, Theophilus substantially expanded the original Evangelicon, adding material he deemed necessary for a complete Gospel account, and retroactively named the result the Gospel of Luke.

Crucially, there is no surviving documentary evidence of a pre-Marcionite Gospel of Luke or pre-Marcionite Pauline Epistles. This strongly suggests that Marcion’s canon was in use in Rome before 144 C.E., and that the manuscripts he employed predate the oldest known Pauline manuscripts, such as the Egyptian papyri dating to around 200 C.E. Thus, the Pauline texts in Marcion’s Testamentum are likely closer to the original apostolic writings than the later, edited versions adopted by the Catholic Church.

Moreover, the direction of textual change also supports Marcionite Priority. From a textual-critical perspective, it is far more plausible to expand a concise document than to condense and systematically redact a longer one—especially when doing so would require removing material central to Catholic theological development. The structure and content of Marcion’s texts, therefore, point not to a redacted Gospel or epistles, but to earlier, more primitive versions that were later interpolated to conform to Catholic orthodoxy.

Controversy took root in Christianity from its earliest days. When the Apostle Paul converted, he did not seek to reform Judaism but to leave it behind entirely. Paul believed that he was led by the indwelling Spirit of Christ and that his gospel was not of human origin, but received through divine revelation from the risen Jesus. For Paul, Christ was the universal Savior of all humanity—Jew and Gentile alike.

Throughout the first and second centuries, a profound theological divide emerged between the followers of Paul and those aligned with the Apostle Peter. Pauline Christians held that the Gospel was a new, universal covenant—open to all, independent of Jewish law. In contrast, Petrine Christians insisted that Christianity was an extension of Judaism, requiring adherence to Jewish customs such as circumcision. In their eyes, uncircumcised converts were illegitimate Christians, and bishops who had not come from the Jewish priesthood were not valid clergy. Some extreme groups, such as the Ebionites, took this position even further, demanding strict adherence to Mosaic law and denying the legitimacy of Paul’s apostleship altogether.

This division manifested in ecclesiastical conflicts as well. Catholic canon law, said to be derived from apostolic tradition, later insisted that there could be only one bishop per city. Yet in Antioch—one of the earliest Christian centers—records show the simultaneous presence of two bishops: Evodius, ordained by Peter, and Ignatius, ordained by Paul. This dual succession reflects the deeper theological and institutional schism between the Pauline and Petrine streams of early Christianity.

A similar tension appears in the early episcopate of Rome. Ancient sources suggest that Linus, recognized as the first bishop of Rome, was ordained by Paul. He was followed by Anacletus (or Cletus), also said to have been appointed by Paul. Clement, traditionally regarded as ordained by Peter, is listed as third or even fourth in some episcopal lists. However, in other traditions—especially those emphasizing Petrine primacy—Clement is portrayed as the first legitimate bishop, as if the Roman church only attained apostolic legitimacy once a successor of Peter took office. Jerome himself remarked on this ambiguity, writing: “Clement… the fourth bishop of Rome after Peter, if indeed the second was Linus and the third Anacletus, although most of the Latins think that Clement was second after the apostle [Peter].”

This complex and overlapping episcopal lineage strongly suggests that, as in Antioch, Rome too had parallel jurisdictions—one tracing its authority to Paul, the other to Peter. This dual succession helps explain the difficulty historians face in establishing clear dates and order for the earliest bishops of Rome. Rather than a single, unified episcopacy, early Christianity appears to have operated under competing apostolic lineages, shaped by profound theological differences that persisted well into the development of the institutional Church.

Marcion lived long enough to witness firsthand the Roman Church under the leadership of elders ordained by the Apostle Paul. He also observed what he perceived to be the gradual introduction of innovations and corruptions as leadership shifted to those aligned with the Apostle Peter. Disturbed by this transformation, Marcion became one of the earliest church reformers, calling for a return to the original, unadulterated form of Christianity rooted in the Pauline tradition.

While the Church Father Tertullian accused Marcion of founding a rival sect, his own writings inadvertently confirm the breadth and depth of the Marcionite movement. By the end of the second century, Marcionite Christians had established a vast and well-organized ecclesiastical network, complete with their own clergy and autonomous congregations across the Roman Empire. Tertullian, with evident frustration, remarked that “Marcion’s heretical tradition has filled the entire world.” He even went so far as to disparage the Apostle Paul himself, calling him “the Apostle of heretics”—a revealing admission of the threat Paul’s theology posed to the emerging Catholic orthodoxy.

Given this rapid growth and extensive reach, it is highly improbable that the Marcionite Church originated only after Marcion’s excommunication from the Roman congregation in 144 C.E. More plausibly, the movement had deep roots well before that date, and may at one point have surpassed the Catholic Church in size and influence. Historical evidence suggests that it continued to expand even after Marcion’s death.

The Catholic Church, in its effort to assert singular legitimacy, routinely labeled rival Christian communities by the names of their presumed founders—often designating them as heresiarchs. This rhetorical strategy served to portray all non-Catholic traditions as deviations from the “true” faith, while claiming direct continuity with Christ only for the Catholic Church. Yet, movements like the Marcionites did not view themselves as followers of a sectarian founder. They believed themselves to be the faithful remnant of the Church established by the Apostle Paul, and their theology reflected that conviction.

Thus, it is more likely that the traditional date assigned to the “founding” of the Marcionite Church is incorrect, rather than the implausible notion that it rose to prominence overnight. The more accurate conclusion is that the Marcionite Church was not a new invention, but rather the continuation of an authentically Pauline tradition that predated its formal excommunication from Rome.

In time, Paulinism became so influential that it could not be suppressed. Instead, it was absorbed, reshaped, and selectively redefined. Catholic authorities interpolated Pauline texts, attributed new writings to his name, and reframed his theology to harmonize with Petrine and Judaic traditions. The result was the syncretic construct of what is now known as Judeo-Christianity—an amalgam of the radical Gospel of Paul and the legalistic religion of the Hebrew Bible, giving rise to what would become the Catholic Church.

Whether Marcion’s teachings were entirely original or partially inherited from earlier apostolic sources—such as his teacher, the Apostle John—remains a matter of scholarly debate. It is worth noting that Marcion’s father, Philologus of Sinope, was himself one of the Seventy Disciples and a bishop ordained by the Apostle Andrew. Philologus was also known to be a follower of Paul in Rome, suggesting a family lineage deeply rooted in Pauline Christianity.

Regardless, the emergence of Marcion in the historical record marks the first documented appearance of a fully formed Pauline canon: the ten epistles of Paul and the singular Gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ. Marcion held that only Paul had received the true revelation of the Gospel and regarded all competing versions as corruptions. In this, he echoed Paul’s own words: “If any man preach any other gospel unto you than that ye have received, let him be accursed” (Galatians 1:9).

Yes, the Catholic Church—founded by followers of the Apostle Peter—and the Marcionite Church—established in the tradition of the Apostle Paul—were, from the beginning, rival expressions of Christianity. Though the Epistles of Paul are now included in the modern biblical canon, there was a time when the Petrine churches rejected both the letters and the apostleship of Paul altogether. As Pauline theology gained acceptance among Catholics, church authorities began producing edited copies of Paul’s letters, inserting interpolations designed to portray Paul as aligned with Catholic doctrine and subordinate to Peter’s leadership.

After Marcion’s death, Catholic authorities reportedly destroyed the original Pauline texts preserved by the Marcionite Church. In doing so, they ensured that only their redacted versions would survive, allowing them to retroactively claim apostolic authenticity for texts that had been altered to conform to Catholic theology.

The Acts of the Apostles was similarly crafted with the purpose of recasting Paul as a loyal Catholic missionary, harmonizing his mission with Petrine authority. Scholarly consensus holds that the same author who penned the Gospel of Luke also authored Acts—a narrative shaped more by ecclesiastical politics than historical fact. Indeed, many of the events described in Acts lack any corroborating historical record. As the scholar Hermann Detering observed: “The great majority of historical statements made in Acts about the life and person of the apostle Paul are legendary in character and thus are to be enjoyed only with great caution.” The figure presented in Acts is not the radical Apostle Paul of the original Gospel, but a domesticated “Catholic” version—one created to absorb Paul into a broader ecclesial unity.

Rather than continuing to oppose Paul, as was initially the case, the Catholic Church ultimately co-opted him—constructing a sanitized, orthodox version of the apostle and casting Marcion as a heretic for faithfully preserving Paul’s original gospel.

The accusation that Marcion “founded” his own church was a strategic invention of the early Catholic hierarchy. In truth, Marcion did not establish a new religion, but sought to preserve the authentic, Pauline Church rooted in the teachings of the Apostle to the Gentiles. To undermine this claim, Catholic tradition began depicting Paul and Peter as close allies—appearing together in church iconography, often as friends or even brothers in ministry.

This revisionist portrayal was designed to reinforce Catholic authority and gradually eclipse the widespread influence of the Marcionite Church. Through theological appropriation, institutional power, and historical suppression, the Catholic Church eventually gained the upper hand, but only by rewriting the legacy of Paul and marginalizing the church that had most faithfully preserved his message.

No, the Roman Catholic Church—as it exists today—did not yet exist at the time the Marcionite Christians established their own church. In fact, the Marcionite Church predates the formal organization of Catholicism by several generations. Many of the attacks against Marcion came later and were often written by critics with vested interests in discrediting his legacy. One of the most vocal among them was Tertullian. Yet even Jerome, a prominent figure in the early Catholic tradition, offered the following assessment:

“As to Tertullian, I have nothing else to say except that he was not a man of the Church.”
— Jerome, De Viris Illustribus

On this point, we are in full agreement with our Catholic counterparts.

Moreover, the most common accusations of heresy against the Marcionite Christians are either mistaken or entirely unfounded. Marcionites are not dualists. We are not docetists. We do not forbid marriage, impose celibacy, or prohibit the consumption of wine or meat. These doctrines more accurately describe the beliefs of Cerdo, a contemporary of Marcion, and his followers, the Cerdonians—an ascetic and gnostic group excommunicated by the Roman Church around 138 C.E.

Many of the charges originally brought against Cerdo were later falsely attributed to Marcion. Tertullian and other Catholic polemicists intentionally blurred the distinction between the two, depicting Cerdo as Marcion’s teacher rather than merely his contemporary. This conflation served to strengthen their arguments against Marcionite theology and to diminish its appeal among early Christians.

It is notable, however, that Cerdo and his sect also used the Testamentum or a form of it as their scriptural foundation. Like the Marcionites, they rejected the Hebrew Bible and did not view Jesus as the Jewish Messiah. This indicates that Marcion was not alone in his rejection of the Hebrew scriptures—multiple early Christian movements arrived at similar conclusions independently.

Under Bishops Hyginus and Pius I, the Roman Church excommunicated both Cerdo and Marcion—not for the scriptures they employed, but for their interpretations of those texts. It is highly plausible that the Testamentum itself, later associated exclusively with the Marcionite Church, was at one point in use among Roman Christians prior to 144 C.E.

At the conclusion of his excommunication trial, Marcion is said to have turned to the assembled bishops and presbyters of Rome and declared:

“I will divide your Church and cause within her a division, which will last forever.”

History suggests he was right.

Yes, around the year 142 AD, following the death of Bishop Hyginus, the Church of Rome stood at a defining crossroads. Marcion of Sinope, bishop of Sinope and a devout disciple of both the Apostle Paul and John, sought to become bishop of Rome not as an innovator, but as a restorer—determined to return the Church to its authentic Pauline foundation. According to Marcionite tradition, the first legitimate bishop of Rome was Linus, ordained by Paul, and succeeded by Anacletus, the second Pauline bishop. The Catholic faction, however, traced its authority through Peter, and claimed Clement—the first Petrine bishop of Rome—as the founder of their episcopal succession. After Anacletus’s death, the Pauline line weakened, and the Petrine succession gained exclusive control, establishing a single episcopal line that would come to dominate the Roman Church. This shift set a precedent of two competing apostolic jurisdictions—Pauline and Petrine—vying for the soul of the Church.

To support his effort, Marcion donated 200,000 sesterces to the Roman Church. His gospel message was radical and clear: the God revealed by Jesus Christ was a God of perfect mercy and goodness, wholly distinct from the false god Yahweh of the Hebrew scriptures—a god of wrath, judgment, and legalism. Alongside him, Valentinus of Egypt also sought influence, promoting a mystical Gnostic worldview. Yet both men were ultimately rejected in favor of Pius (later Pius I), who upheld the Catholic project of merging Jewish scripture with Christian revelation.

Marcion initially remained within the Roman community, leading a growing reformist faction. But on the Ides of July, 144 AD, Bishop Pius excommunicated him, returned his donation, and expelled him from communion. According to Marcionite tradition, the following day Marcion stood before the Roman clergy and solemnly declared:

“I will divide your Church and cause within her a division, which will last forever.”

Two years earlier, in 142 AD, Marcion had already been appointed bishop of Antioch, succeeding Cornelius, a Petrine-aligned bishop. Upon assuming the post, he resigned his episcopacy in his native Sinope, where he had previously led a small but faithful Pauline community. From Antioch—a city that at the time rivaled Rome in power and prestige—Marcion began organizing a new ecclesiastical order, founded entirely on the gospel of Paul, the Apostolicon, and the Evangelicon. Anatolia, his homeland, quickly became the heartland of Marcionism, where his message of freedom from the law and rejection of Yahweh found a devoted and expanding audience. Many eastern bishops were in closer communion with Antioch than with Rome, aligning themselves with Marcion’s gospel of grace.

Like Rome, Antioch had a history of dual apostolic lineage. According to Marcionite understanding, its first Pauline bishop was Ignatius, a disciple of Paul who upheld the primacy of grace. In contrast, Catholic tradition traced its Petrine succession in Antioch back to Evodius, regarded as the first Petrine bishop of Antioch, allegedly appointed by Peter himself. This legacy of duality set the stage for the schism that followed.

In response to Marcion’s rising influence and consolidation of the Pauline faction, the Catholic Church swiftly installed Heron II as a parallel Petrine bishop in Antioch shortly after Marcion’s excommunication in 144 AD. Heron II represented the institutional wing of the Church, rooted in apostolic succession through Peter and theological allegiance to the Hebrew scriptures. Antioch became a divided episcopate, with Marcion and Heron II embodying two rival theological visions—one grounded in law and prophetic continuity, the other in grace and the radical freedom of Christ revealed apart from the law.

It was also in Antioch, around 169 AD, that the Catholic bishop Theophilus began to edit the Evangelicon, reworking Marcion’s gospel to align with the Catholic view of scripture and doctrine. This redacted and shortened version would later circulate as the Gospel of Luke, stripped of its original anti-Judaic and Pauline clarity. It marked the beginning of Rome’s efforts to co-opt and neutralize Marcion’s scriptural legacy.

Following his excommunication, Marcion formally established a separate Church, declared himself Archbishop—a title later twisted by his Catholic opponents who mocked him as the “Archheretic”—and appointed trusted disciples to key episcopal seats across the Christian world. Among the most significant were:

Apelles, appointed bishop of Alexandria, who would later succeed Marcion as Archbishop after his martyrdom.

Lucanus, appointed as the Marcionite bishop of Rome, continuing the Pauline witness in the heart of Catholic power.

Onesimus, appointed bishop of Ephesus, a church founded by Paul and long faithful to its Pauline heritage. It was in Ephesus that Marcion had originally served as a disciple of the Apostle John.

Damas, made bishop of Magnesia on the Maeander, a city eager to embrace Marcion’s gospel over Rome’s legalism.

Polybius, installed as bishop of Tralles, an Anatolian city that openly rejected Petrine ecclesiology.

Metrodorus, named bishop of Smyrna, where he led the Marcionite community in open and ongoing rivalry with the Petrine faction headed by Polycarp, one of Marcion’s most relentless adversaries. It was in Smyrna that Marcion had earlier delivered his famed Homily to Diognetus.

These churches—Alexandria, Rome, Ephesus, Magnesia, Tralles, Philadelphia, and Smyrna—stood at the forefront of Marcion’s ecclesiastical rebellion. Each declared its loyalty to the God revealed by Christ alone, rejected the authority of the Hebrew scriptures, and severed communion with the Roman and Petrine hierarchy. In these cities of Anatolia, the gospel of Paul took deep root, as Marcionite bishops took their place beside, or in place of, their Catholic counterparts.

In 154 AD, Marcion returned to Rome, not to debate, but to face martyrdom. He had been condemned by Roman authorities for fomenting division among the Christian communities of the capital. During this final journey, he encountered his lifelong adversary, Polycarp of Smyrna, who, upon seeing him, famously declared:

“Yea, I know thee as the first-born of Satan.”

Unmoved by scorn or condemnation, Marcion was led into the Colosseum, where he was martyred for the gospel he believed had been revealed through Paul alone—a gospel of grace, liberty, and the worship of the true God, wholly distinct from the false deity of the law.

Though the Catholic Church would enshrine figures like Pius and Polycarp as saints and defenders of orthodoxy, it was Marcion’s legacy that forced the early Church to define its canon, its creeds, and its institutional authority. The division he foretold became real—and in many ways, has never been healed.

Eusebius of Caesarea records that among the various early Christian sects, the Marcionite Christians produced the greatest number of martyrs. His testimony highlights the widespread devotion and steadfastness of the Marcionite faithful in the face of imperial persecution.

He names two martyrs in particular. The first is Metrodorus, Bishop of Smyrna, who was burned alive alongside Polycarp in 156 C.E., during the wave of Christian persecutions under Emperor Marcus Aurelius. Metrodorus is remembered for his unwavering commitment to the Gospel as preserved in the Testamentum.

The second is Asclepius, Bishop of Eleutheropolis, who suffered martyrdom during the Diocletianic Persecution. He was burned alive at Caesarea on January 10, 310 C.E., sharing the pyre with Peter Apselamus, another Christian martyr.

Eusebius also makes mention of an unnamed Marcionite woman—possibly a deaconess—who was executed in the arena of Caesarea around 257 C.E., during the reign of Emperor Valerian. Though her name is lost to history, her witness remains a testament to the courage and endurance of the early Marcionite Church.

Among the known disciples of Marcion of Sinope are Apelles of Alexandria, Lucanus (or Lucianus) of Rome, Syneros, Potitus, and Basilicus. Our primary source for these names is the early Christian writer Rhodo, who preserved some of the earliest accounts of the Marcionite tradition.

Apelles stands out as the most prominent and influential of Marcion’s disciples, often regarded as his theological successor. Apelles developed his own school of thought while maintaining fidelity to the foundational principles of Marcionite Christianity.

Lucanus appears to have assumed leadership of the Marcionite Christians in Rome following Marcion’s death. His teachings included the doctrine of the transmigration of souls—a form of reincarnation—and he upheld certain docetic beliefs, including the denial of the physical reality of Christ’s body and the immateriality and immortality of the soul. Lucanus’ school, however, seems to have faded by the end of the third century.

Potitus and Basilicus are notable for their apparent adherence to Binitarianism—the belief in two divine figures—which may also reflect the theology held by Marcion himself. Their contributions indicate that while theological variations existed within the broader Marcionite movement, these differences did not lead to formal schisms.

According to Rhodo, despite their differing views, the disciples of Marcion did not fragment into competing sects. They remained unified under the single identity of Marcionite Christians—a name consistently used by patristic sources. This theological tolerance within a unified ecclesial framework underscores the Marcionite emphasis not on dogmatic conformity, but on spiritual conviction and adherence to the Testamentum, their distinct biblical canon. Unlike the Gnostic sects, which often fractured over doctrinal disputes, the Marcionite Church prioritized the purity of its scriptural foundation and the integrity of its religious spirit.

Marcion of Sinope, in his preserved epistles contained within the Synaxicon, names a wide circle of Marcionite deacons, presbyters, and bishops who accompanied or supported him during his captivity. Together, these figures reveal both the breadth of his influence across second-century Christian communities and the well-defined leadership structure already in place within the Marcionite Church.

Deacons:

Philo of Cilicia – Deacon of Tarsus, mentioned in the letters to the Smyrneans and Philadelphians; he travelled with Marcion toward Rome, highlighting Cilicia’s strong Marcionite presence.

Rhaius Agathopus – A Syrian deacon who joined Marcion at Troas and remained with him throughout the journey.

Burrhus of Ephesus – Deacon delegated by the Ephesian assembly; he met Marcion early on the route and carried messages on their behalf.

Crocus of Rome – Roman deacon who hosted and ministered to Marcion after his arrival in the capital.

Zotion of Magnesia – Deacon of the Magnesian church who assisted Bishop Damas in greeting the prisoner on his way to Smyrna.

Presbyters:

Apollonius of Magnesia – One of two presbyters sent by the Magnesian congregation to visit Marcion, offering encouragement and logistical aid.

Bassus of Magnesia – Fellow presbyter of the same church, partnering with Apollonius and Damas to ensure Marcion’s letters reached their destinations.

Bishops:

Damas of Magnesia – Encountered Marcion while Roman soldiers escorted the latter toward Smyrna; Marcion entrusted him with a letter addressed to the Magnesian flock.

Metrodorus of Smyrna – Bishop of Smyrna who received and hosted Marcion during his stop in the city, convened the local assembly, forwarded Marcion’s letters, safeguarded his personal effects, and acted as liaison with neighbouring churches. His steadfast leadership made Smyrna a rallying point for Marcionite believers, and he was burned alive in 156 C.E. during persecutions carried out under Emperor Marcus Aurelius, sealing his witness in martyrdom.

Polybius of Tralles – Described in the Epistle to the Trallians as a man of solemn bearing and gentle spirit, he travelled to Smyrna to stand in solidarity with Marcion during the final stages of the journey.

These bishops, presbyters, and deacons form a vivid portrait of committed Marcionite leadership—men who stood beside their founder in faith and service and whose cooperation attests to the vigor and organization of the Church he established.

Among other notable Marcionite Christians preserved in the historical record are Prepon the Assyrian, Paul of Lebaba, Pitho, Megethius, and Marcus—each contributing in various ways to the development and spread of Marcionite Christianity.

Prepon the Assyrian is remembered for composing an epistle—now lost—to Bardaisan or his followers, in which he defended the theological principles of the Marcionite tradition. According to surviving accounts, Prepon also articulated the existence of an intermediary spiritual entity between God the Father and the adversary, Satan, offering a distinctive perspective within Marcionite cosmology.

Paul of Lebaba, a Marcionite presbyter, is renowned for establishing a church in the village of Lebaba in Syria in 318 C.E. The inscription found within this church remains the oldest known surviving inscribed reference to Jesus Christ. It reads:

“The meeting-house of the Marcionites, in the village of Lebaba, of the Lord and Saviour Jesus the Good — Erected by the forethought of Paul a presbyter, in the year 630 [Seleucid era].”

This archaeological discovery not only affirms the enduring presence of Marcionite Christianity in Syria but also serves as a powerful witness to their Christological devotion.

Megethius and Marcus, both Marcionite presbyters, are cited in the work De Recta in Deum Fide by Adamantius, a late-third or early-fourth century author who composed a dialogue opposing various heretical views. Their inclusion demonstrates the continued activity and influence of Marcionite leaders in theological discourse well into the post-Marcion era.

Epiphanius of Salamis records that Theodotion—the translator of the Hebrew Bible into Greek—was once affiliated with the Marcionite Church before abandoning Christianity entirely and embracing Judaism. Similarly, Jerome notes that Ambrose of Alexandria had been a Marcionite Christian prior to his conversion under the influence of Origen.

Theodoret of Cyrrhus also claims that Blastus, a Montanist presbyter in Rome and proponent of Quartodecimanism, had originally been a Marcionite Christian before aligning with other movements. These testimonies reveal the widespread reach of Marcionite Christianity and its significant influence on figures who later became associated with other theological or ecclesial streams.

Apelles was the foremost disciple of Marcion. He began his ministry under Marcion’s guidance in Rome and later continued his theological work in Alexandria. Apelles remained active well into the reign of Emperor Commodus, which lasted from 180 to 193 C.E.

Philologus of Sinope, the father of Marcion of Sinope, is traditionally identified as one of the Seventy Disciples of Jesus Christ. According to early ecclesiastical tradition, he was consecrated as Bishop of Sinope by the Apostle Andrew.

Philologus is also believed to have been a companion of the Apostle Paul during his time in Rome. He is mentioned in the Epistle to the Alexandrians, where the text reads:

“Salute Philologus, and Julia, Nereus, and his sister, and Olympas, and all the saints which are with them.”
— Alexandrians 1:15

This passage attests to Philologus’s early role in the formation of the Pauline communities and his close association with apostolic leadership.

No, the origin of this rumor—repeated centuries later by both Tertullian and Epiphanius—that Marcion was expelled from the Church by his own father can be traced to a distortion of a local succession event within the Church of Sinope. Upon the death of Philologus, bishop of Sinope and father of Marcion, the episcopacy passed not to his son but to Phocas, a respected elder in the community. This decision was not the result of disfavor, but simply because Marcion was still in Ephesus at the time, continuing his spiritual formation and discipleship under the Apostle John. Only later, after Phocas was martyred in 102 C.E. during the persecution under Emperor Trajan, was Marcion chosen to succeed him as bishop.

This natural and orderly succession was later twisted by Catholic polemicists into a tale of scandal. Tertullian, writing in Adversus Marcionem, asserted:

“Marcion, the heretic, was disinherited by his own bishop-father, and cast out of the Church.”
— Adversus Marcionem 1.1

Epiphanius, writing more than two centuries later in the Panarion, embellished the accusation with a morally charged fabrication:

“When he was young, he seduced a virgin and was excommunicated by his own father, who was a bishop.”
— Panarion 42.1–3

These claims are entirely unsubstantiated by contemporary evidence and follow a familiar pattern of rhetorical slander employed by heresiologists to discredit theological opponents. According to Marcionite tradition, the truth is far different: Marcion was not a disgraced rebel, but a faithful heir to the Pauline mission, appointed after years of spiritual preparation and apostolic training. The narrative later crafted by Rome was not a record of history, but an act of institutional propaganda, designed to undermine Marcion’s legitimacy and obscure his apostolic inheritance.

The Seventy Disciples were early emissaries appointed and commissioned by Jesus Christ, as recorded in the Evangelicon. They were sent out in pairs on specific missions to prepare the way for His arrival in various cities and regions.

“And after these things the Lord appointed other seventy also, and sent them two and two before his face into every city and place, whither he himself was about to come.”
— Evangelicon 9:1

The identities of these disciples are preserved in a Greek text titled On the Seventy Apostles of Christ, traditionally attributed to Hippolytus of Rome. The oldest extant manuscript of this list is Codex Baroccianus, dated to approximately 206 C.E.

Below is the traditional list of the Seventy:

• Achaicus of Corinth

• Agabus the Prophet

• Ampliatus of Odessos

• Ananias of Damascus

• Andronicus of Pannonia

• Apelles of Heraklion

• Apollos of Caesarea

• Archippus of Laodicea

• Aristarchus of Thessalonica

• Aristobulus of Britannia

• Artemas of Lystra

• Asyncritus of Hyrcania

• Barnabas of Milan

• Barsabbas of Eleutheropolis

• Caesar of Dyrrachium

• Carpus of Beroea

• Cephas of Iconium

• Clement of Sardice

• Cleopas of Jerusalem

• Crescens of Galatia

• Demas of Thessalonica

• Epaphroditus of Andriaca

• Epenetus of Carthage

• Erastus of Corinth

• Evodius of Antioch

• Fortunatus of Corinth

• Gaius of Ephesus

• Hermagoras of Aquileia

• Hermas of Dalmatia

• Hermas of Philippopolis

• Herodion of Patras

• James the Just

• Jason of Thessalonica

• John Mark of Bibloupolis

• Linus of Rome

• Lucius of Cyrene

• Luke the Physician

• Mark of Apollonia

• Mark the Evangelist

• Matthias of Jerusalem

• Narcissus of Athens

• Nicanor the Deacon

• Nicolas the Deacon

• Olympas the Martyr

• Onesiphorus of Colophon

• Parmenas of Soli

• Parrobus of Pottole

• Patrobulus of Puteoli

• Philemon of Gaza

• Philip the Evangelist

• Philologus of Sinope

• Phlegon of Marathon

• Phygellus of Ephesus

• Prochorus of Nicomedia

• Pudens the Senator

• Quartus of Berytus

• Rufus of Thebes

• Silas of Corinth

• Silvanus of Thessalonica

• Sosipater of Iconium

• Sosthenes of Colophonia

• Stachys of Byzantium

• Stephen the Protomartyr

• Tertius of Iconium

• Thaddeus of Edessa

• Timon the Deacon

• Trophimus the Martyr

• Tychicus of Colophonia

• Urban of Macedonia

• Zenas the Lawyer

This list reflects the wide geographical spread of the early Church and the diversity of leaders commissioned by Christ to carry His message to the nations.

The Marcionite Church of Christ affirms that the Apostle Paul was personally appointed by the risen Jesus Christ and thereby elevated to apostolic authority, taking the place of Judas Iscariot as one of the true Twelve Apostles.

The Apostle Paul employed the term “false apostles” primarily in reference to the Judaizers—a faction of Jewish Christians who insisted that adherence to the Mosaic Law, including circumcision, was necessary for salvation and for the acceptance of Gentile converts into the Christian faith.

Paul was unwavering in his opposition to the Judaizers, regarding their teachings as a fundamental distortion of the Gospel of Christ. He saw them not only as a threat to the universality of the Christian message but as disseminators of grave doctrinal error. Throughout his epistles—as preserved in the Testamentum—Paul offers a sustained and vigorous refutation of the Judaizing position, denouncing both their theology and their divisive influence within the early Church.

Paul’s commitment to the Gospel of grace led him even to publicly confront the Apostle Peter, whom he accused of compromising with the Judaizers. Paul rebuked Peter for showing outward support for their practices in certain contexts while privately distancing himself from their doctrines. This confrontation underscores Paul’s belief that the Gospel must be free from the legalism and ritualism of the Mosaic covenant.

All evidence within Paul’s writings suggests a complete rejection of any attempt to integrate Judaism into Christianity. His stance was later echoed by figures such as Barnabas, Basilides, Cerdo, and Marcion, as well as by various Gnostic Christians—all of whom opposed the inclusion of the Hebrew Bible within the Christian canon.

As Paul warned:

“For such are false apostles, deceitful workers, transforming themselves into the apostles of Christ.”
— 2 Corinthians 11:13

Some scholars, including historian Joseph Turmel, have noted striking theological parallels between the Marcionite Christians and the early Johannine community responsible for the Gospel of John and the Johannine Epistles. According to certain traditions, Marcion of Sinope began his ministry in Anatolia as a disciple of the Apostle John, suggesting a potential lineage of influence between these early Christian streams.

Numerous later Christian sects and movements appear to have inherited theological elements from the Marcionite tradition. Among these, the Paulicians stand out as the most prominent successors. Confined primarily to the territories of the Eastern Roman (Byzantine) Empire, the Paulicians first flourished in Armenia, where they encountered Zoroastrian and Manichaean doctrines. These interactions contributed to the development of their own syncretic theology.

Like the Marcionites, the Paulicians held the Apostle Paul in the highest regard, considering him the foremost interpreter of the Gospel. The founder of the Paulician sect, Constantine the Armenian, hailed from a Marcionite church in Mananalis, near Samosata. Around 657 C.E., he began to teach a new religious message based on the Marcionite canon. According to the account of Petrus Siculus—a Byzantine chronicler who lived among the Paulicians in Tibrike—Constantine received the Evangelicon and Apostolicon from a Marcionite deacon in Syria and distributed them among his followers, who initially preserved these texts as their authoritative scriptures.

Over time, the Paulicians appear to have expanded and modified Marcion’s Testamentum. They continued to use only the Gospel of Luke and retained most of Paul’s interpolated epistles, rejecting, however, the Epistles of Peter. Like the Marcionites, they entirely rejected the Hebrew Bible, rejected the resurrection of the body, embraced amillennialism, and also refused to venerate Mary.

Despite their shared Pauline foundation, the Paulicians diverged significantly from Marcionite theology. They embraced dualism, docetism, iconoclasm, and a non-Trinitarian understanding of God—positions that brought them closer to Gnostic traditions than to Marcionism proper.

Between 747 and 970 C.E., the Byzantine emperors deported large numbers of Paulicians to Thrace (in modern-day Bulgaria) as part of imperial resettlement and religious control efforts. These transplanted Paulician communities gradually evolved into a new movement: Bogomilism, which flourished throughout Bulgaria.

Bogomilism, in turn, gave rise to Catharism, a dualist Christian sect that spread through southern France between the 12th and 14th centuries. As political and religious pressures intensified in the region, many of the remaining Paulicians and Bogomils eventually converted to Roman Catholicism, Eastern Orthodoxy, or Islam during the period of Ottoman conquest. Ethnic groups such as the Banat Bulgarians and the Pomaks trace their ancestry to these historical communities.

Those Paulicians who remained in Armenia and were not deported gradually gave rise to the Tondrakian movement by the 10th century—a Christian sect that persisted in Armenia until as late as the 1820s.

If one accepts the theory of baptismal successionism—the belief that valid Christian faith communities can be traced through their rejection of infant baptism—then a theological lineage may be drawn from the Marcionites through the Paulicians, Bogomils, and Cathars, ultimately culminating in the emergence of modern Baptist traditions. Each of these historical movements consistently upheld the doctrine of credobaptism—baptism upon profession of personal faith.

Historically, the Marcionite Church of Christ was rooted in Apostolic succession.

Marcion of Sinope began his ministry as a disciple of the Apostle John in Anatolia. His father, Philologus of Sinope, was not only numbered among the Seventy Disciples of Jesus Christ but was also consecrated as Bishop of Sinope by the Apostle Andrew. Additionally, Philologus served as a companion and disciple of the Apostle Paul during his ministry in Rome.

Marcion succeeded his father as Bishop of Sinope, thereby inheriting a lineage of spiritual authority that could be traced to three apostles: Paul, John, and Andrew. On these grounds, the original Marcionite Church of Christ rightly claimed Apostolic succession.

Regrettably, that historical link has been interrupted due to centuries of suppression and the long discontinuity between the original Marcionite Church and its modern revival.

While the Marcionite Church of Christ does not regard Apostolic succession as a theological necessity for ordination or the administration of sacraments, we nonetheless hold it in high esteem. It is our hope that, in time, the Church may be restored to full Apostolic succession in continuity with its earliest foundations.

The earthly ministry of Jesus Christ is understood to have lasted slightly more than three years.

The Evangelicon contains at least three distinct references to separate Passover observances: His first journey to Jerusalem, His second pilgrimage there, and finally, the occasion of the Last Supper. Additionally, the Feast of Levi the Publican is widely interpreted as a fourth reference to a Passover meal, further substantiating the timeline.

By correlating these four Passover markers with astronomical events—namely, Jesus’ descent into Capernaum on November 24th, 29 C.E., which coincided with a total solar eclipse, and His crucifixion on April 3rd, 33 C.E., which aligned with a lunar eclipse—we arrive at a ministry duration of three years, four months, and twelve days.

Many church traditions later adopted by the Catholic Church and other Christian denominations can be traced back to Marcionite origins. These include the separation of the date of Christian Easter from the Jewish Passover, the rejection of Sabbath observance, the practice of Eucharistic fasting on Saturdays, open communion, the sign of the cross, the public reading of the Gospel and Pauline Epistles during worship, full triple immersion in baptism, and the use of a mixed chalice in the Eucharist.

It is also a long-held tradition among Marcionite Christians to eat broiled fish and honeycomb on Easter Sunday, in memory of the meal Christ shared after His resurrection.

In addition, many Marcionite liturgical practices were shaped by an antithetical theology—one that deliberately rejected the practices and beliefs associated with Judaism and the false covenant. This reflected the Marcionite commitment to the true covenant revealed through Jesus Christ, wholly distinct from the legalistic and carnal system of the Hebrew scriptures. For example, Marcionite Christians prayed facing west, in contrast to the Jewish practice of facing east. Likewise, the tradition of offering milk and honey to the newly baptized was a purposeful repudiation of Jewish ritual laws, such as the prohibition of honey in sacrificial offerings. These customs underscored the Marcionite belief in a radical break from the false covenant and full allegiance to the spiritual truth of the Gospel.

According to Marcion of Sinope, God the Father—who is revealed through Jesus Christ—had no prior interaction with the world before Christ’s manifestation. He was entirely unknown until that moment, transcendent and untainted by the material realm. In his now-lost work Antithesis, Marcion presented a series of stark contrasts between the Hebrew Bible and the Gospel, between the god of the false covenant and the true God revealed in the Testamentum, between law and grace, judgment and mercy. He depicted Christianity not as a continuation of the Hebrew tradition but as a completely new and independent revelation, one that abrogated and superseded all that came before it.

Tertullian, one of Marcion’s fiercest critics, preserved a single quote from the Antithesis that illustrates Marcion’s approach:

“Whereas David in old time, in the capture of Sion, was offended by the blind who opposed his admission into the stronghold, so, on the contrary, Christ succored the blind man, to show by this act that He was not David’s son, and how different in disposition He was—kind to the blind, while David ordered them to be slain.”

Marcion’s critique was shaped by Hellenistic philosophical principles, especially Platonism, and he employed moral reasoning to contrast the inconsistency and cruelty of the Hebrew Bible deity with the compassion and righteousness of the God proclaimed by Christ. Marcion argued that the Testamentum and the Hebrew Bible are irreconcilable. Where Moses taught “an eye for an eye,” Jesus nullified this code of retaliation. Marcion highlighted Isaiah’s disturbing claim—“I make peace and create evil; I, the Lord, do all these things”—and contrasted it with Jesus’ statement, “A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit.” Marcion emphasized the incompatibility between the fruits of the two trees: one bitter, one sweet.

He cited examples of moral divergence: in the Hebrew Bible, the prophet Elisha curses children, and bears maul them. Jesus, by contrast, says, “Let the little children come unto me.” Joshua halts the sun to prolong the massacre of his enemies, while Paul, quoting Christ, teaches, “Let not the sun go down upon your wrath.” The Hebrew Bible allows for divorce and polygamy; the Testamentum forbids both. Moses imposed strict Sabbath regulations and ceremonial law; Jesus deconstructs and transcends both.

Marcion also pointed to internal contradictions within the Hebrew Bible itself. The deity commands that no work be done on the Sabbath, yet instructs the Israelites to march around Jericho seven times on the Sabbath. Though he forbids graven images, he directs Moses to create a bronze serpent. Marcion questioned how an omniscient deity could ask, “Adam, where art thou?”—a clear sign, in Marcion’s view, of ignorance.

Even more strikingly, in Genesis, Jacob is said to have wrestled with the deity of the Hebrew Bible and prevailed—a blasphemous notion if applied to the true God. Likewise, before destroying Sodom and Gomorrah, the deity says, “I will go down now, and see whether they have done altogether according to the cry of it… and if not, I will know.” Marcion saw this as further proof that the god of the Hebrew Bible was neither omnipresent nor omniscient, but a limited, fallible being unworthy of worship.

Through these comparisons, Marcion advanced the case for a radical theological reformation: the rejection of the false covenant and its god, and the full embrace of the true covenant revealed by Jesus Christ through the Gospel and the writings of Paul.

Apelles, a notable disciple of Marcion, authored a work entitled Syllogisms, in which he offered a systematic critique of the Hebrew Bible and its depiction of God. The title itself suggests that Apelles intended to build upon Marcion’s earlier work, the Antithesis, which had contrasted the deity of the Hebrew Bible with the true God revealed in the Testamentum, emphasizing the irreconcilable differences between law and gospel, justice and mercy, wrath and grace.

Though the original text of Syllogisms has not survived, several fragments have been preserved through the polemics of later Catholic Church Fathers. Ambrose of Milan, in the fourth century, directed a number of rebuttals against Apelles in his treatise De Paradiso. It is through such responses that we possess rare direct quotations from Apelles’ lost work.

In one preserved fragment, Apelles addresses the inconsistency of divine foreknowledge in the Genesis account:

“Did God know that Adam would transgress His commandment, or knew He it not? If He knew it not, how then declareth He Himself to be Almighty? But if He knew, and yet gave commandment concerning that which He foresaw would not be obeyed, then did He speak in vain. But God doeth nought in vain, neither commandeth He that which is superfluous. Yet lo, He gave unto Adam, the first-formed man, a statute which He knew should not be observed. Wherefore, this writing proceedeth not from God, for the Most High doth nothing without purpose.”

Another excerpt questions the plausibility of the flood narrative and the Ark:

“By no means could it have been possible to bring aboard the Ark so great a multitude of beasts, and the provision for their sustenance for the space of a whole year, in so short a time. For if the unclean beasts are said to have entered two and two, that is, two males and two females of each kind, and the clean beasts seven and seven, that is, seven pairs, how then could the space, as it is written, have contained even four elephants alone? Verily, it is manifest that the tale is feigned. And if the tale be false, then surely this scripture proceedeth not from God.”

In a third passage, Apelles critiques the theological logic of the Eden narrative:

“How is it that the tree of life doth seem to confer more life than the very breath of God?”

These fragments show Apelles continuing the Marcionite tradition of moral and philosophical opposition to the Hebrew Bible, exposing what he perceived to be contradictions, absurdities, and ethical failings in the text. Like Marcion, Apelles maintained that such scriptures could not have proceeded from the Father revealed by Christ, but rather from a lesser, false, and ignorant deity associated with the false covenant. His work represents a further refinement of the Marcionite conviction that Christianity stands in absolute distinction from Judaism—not as its fulfillment, but as its repudiation.

Marcion and the early Marcionites engaged with Hellenistic philosophy to sharpen and defend their theological convictions, particularly drawing from Platonism, Stoicism, Cynicism, and to a lesser extent, Epicureanism—always holding revelation above reason. From Platonism, they embraced the idea that the highest reality is spiritual and that God is wholly Good—immutable, benevolent, and free from violence or contradiction. This philosophical insight helped articulate the radical moral and ontological distinction between the true God revealed by Christ and the morally deficient deity described in the Hebrew Bible. Stoic influence is reflected in Marcion’s personal asceticism and moral seriousness, though asceticism was not universally mandated among Marcionite believers. Cynicism, with its contempt for religious hypocrisy and institutional corruption, resonated with the Marcionite critique of both Jewish legalism and the authoritarian tendencies of the emerging proto-Catholic church. Even Epicureanism contributed to Marcionite thought by reinforcing the idea that a truly good God could not be the author of suffering, injustice, or fear—a perspective that sharpened their theological rejection of the false god as depicted in the Hebrew Bible. In all, Hellenistic philosophy provided the Marcionites with tools to express their faith in the supreme goodness of the Father and the uniqueness of the Gospel, without ever eclipsing the authority of divine revelation.

Absolutely. Marcionite Christians hold in high regard the centuries of thought produced by theologians outside our own tradition. Many ancient Church Fathers and later Christian thinkers ironically shared views with Marcion on a variety of issues, and we can appreciate their arguments and reasoning even as we dispute other points of doctrine. We encourage every Marcionite believer to engage these writings with an open mind and a discerning spirit. In many areas, such as philosophical reasoning, moral instruction, liturgical development, and historical analysis, the insights of non-Marcionite scholars harmonize with our own convictions and can deepen our understanding of the Gospel. When their conclusions align with the testimony of the Evangelicon, the Apostolicon, and the witness of the Apostle Paul, they are worthy of study and reflection. Where their assertions contradict the core principles handed down through Marcion and our received Scriptures, particularly doctrines that elevate the Hebrew Bible’s deity as the Father of Jesus Christ, we respectfully set those portions aside. By reading broadly yet critically, Marcionite Christians gain both the benefits of the wider Christian intellectual heritage and the clarity that comes from remaining faithful to the true message of Christ revealed in the Testamentum.

Yes. We affirm that the Apostle Paul, called directly by the risen Christ “not of men, neither by man, but by Jesus Christ” (Galatians 1:1), stands as the chief herald of the true covenant. The Evangelicon, our earliest Gospel witness, omits the later addition of Matthew 16:18 that Roman apologists invoke for Petrine authority, and the Apostle Paul’s public correction of Peter at Antioch demonstrates that no apostolic monarchy grounded in Petrine Primacy was ever instituted. Because the Apostle Paul’s letters are genuine while the Petrine epistles are widely regarded as pseudepigraphical, scriptural, historical, and doctrinal evidence converge on Paul as the primary apostolic voice.

Practically, Pauline Primacy means that our teaching, worship, and governance flow from the Apostolicon and Evangelicon rather than from episcopal pedigrees. Congregations are guided by bishops and presbyters who uphold the Apostle Paul’s gospel of grace, freedom from legalism, and universal mission to all peoples. Succession is measured by fidelity to Pauline doctrine, not by an institutional chain of ordinations, ensuring that the Church remains rooted in the revelation entrusted to the Apostle: “for the seal of mine apostleship are ye in the Lord” (1 Corinthians 9:2).

This primacy is not merely historical; it is pastoral and evangelical. The Apostle Paul proclaims a faith that liberates believers from the yoke of the Mosaic Law and centers salvation on the cross of Christ alone (Galatians 5:1; 1 Corinthians 1:23). His commission to preach to all nations establishes the inclusivity that defines the Church’s missionary vocation (Romans 11:13). By placing the Apostle Paul at the heart of our doctrine, the Marcionite Church of Christ safeguards the purity of the true covenant.

In a sense, yes. Throughout the twentieth century, renewed scholarly attention to Marcion led many Christian thinkers to recognize him as a foundational figure in shaping certain core ideas now associated with modern Christianity—particularly within Protestantism. Marcion has been credited with articulating early versions of several key theological concepts, including the doctrine of sola fide (salvation by faith alone), an early form of dispensationalism, the idea of “New Testament Christianity” as distinct from the Hebrew tradition, and the very concept of a New Testament as a separate and authoritative body of inspired writings. He also advanced a version of Prima Scriptura—the principle that all Christian doctrine must be grounded first and foremost in scripture. While Marcionite Christianity affirms that tradition, reason, and experience may support the faith, it maintains that these must never contradict or supersede the authority of scripture.

It is for these reasons that the prominent scholar Adolf von Harnack famously referred to Marcion as “the first Protestant.”

No, the Marcionite Church of Christ does not involve any form of secret knowledge. Its beliefs are openly proclaimed and fully accessible to all through the Testamentum. Contrary to the claims of his critics, Marcion was not a Gnostic. He was a highly educated evangelist devoted to proclaiming the Gospel of Jesus Christ, particularly to the Gentiles throughout Roman-controlled regions, especially along the Mediterranean. In fact, Marcion was among the most successful preachers of the second century, bringing more converts to Christianity than any other missionary of his time.

Even his adversaries acknowledged his intellectual capabilities—describing him as a “man of letters.” Unlike the Gnostics, who based their theology on esoteric writings and hidden revelations known only to an elite few, Marcion grounded his teachings solely in the written and public scriptures—namely, the Apostle Paul’s Epistles and the sayings of the Lord Jesus. His theological framework rested entirely on scripture, not on mystical visions or secret traditions.

Marcion’s commitment to the authority of a defined Christian canon placed him far closer to the scripture-oriented Christianity later affirmed by the great councils than to the speculative and myth-driven systems of the Gnostics. He fostered an open and public Christian faith—organizing congregations that met in churches—whereas Gnostic groups often operated through private circles that emphasized exclusive knowledge and spiritual elitism.

While Gnosticism tended to pursue abstract philosophy and metaphysical speculation, Marcion’s theology was pastoral, practical, and grounded in ethical clarity. Gnostics typically viewed love as a spiritual yearning to escape the material world and ascend to a higher realm shared with fellow initiates. By contrast, Marcion taught that the Gospel was a divine mission of compassion: Christ entered this broken world to redeem it through love. Central to Marcion’s message was Christ’s command to love even one’s enemies—a principle that stands at the heart of the true Gospel.

Even secular and academic authorities have long distinguished Marcionite Christianity from Gnosticism. The 1911 Encyclopaedia Britannica states:

“It was no mere school for the learned, disclosed no mysteries for the privileged, but sought to lay the foundation of the Christian community on the pure gospel, the authentic institutes of Christ. The pure gospel, however, Marcion found to be everywhere more or less corrupted and mutilated in the Christian circles of his time. His undertaking thus resolved itself into a reformation of Christendom. This reformation was to deliver Christendom from false Jewish doctrines by restoring the Pauline conception of the gospel, Paul being, according to Marcion, the only apostle who had rightly understood the new message of salvation as delivered by Christ. In Marcion’s own view, therefore, the founding of his church—to which he was first driven by opposition—amounts to a reformation of Christendom through a return to the gospel of Christ and to Paul; nothing was to be accepted beyond that. This of itself shows that it is a mistake to reckon Marcion among the Gnostics.”

Similarly, The Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church affirms:

“It is clear that he would have had little sympathy with their mythological speculations.”

Marcionite Christianity, far from being a Gnostic sect, represents an open, scripturally rooted, and ethically driven form of the faith—centered on the revealed Gospel of Jesus Christ and the apostolic witness of Paul.

That said, it is true that Marcionites and Gnostics shared a number of theological affinities. Both held the Apostle Paul in exceptionally high regard, both rejected the authority of the Hebrew Scriptures, and both denied that Yahweh—the god of the Hebrew Bible—was the same as the Father revealed by Christ. In fact, many Gnostic groups may have adopted the Testamentum as their scriptural canon or drawn heavily from its content. Yet despite these shared positions, their underlying theological frameworks remained fundamentally different—Marcion emphasized public proclamation of scripture and ethical clarity, while Gnostic systems often retreated into hidden knowledge and mythological speculation.

No, the Marcionite Church of Christ does not affirm Docetism. Docetism is a heterodox doctrine that holds Jesus’ bodily existence—particularly His human form—as mere illusion or semblance, denying the reality of His physical incarnation, suffering, and death. In broad terms, it teaches that Christ only appeared to be human, while lacking true material substance.

There is no credible evidence that Marcion of Sinope taught or supported this view. The primary source for the accusation that Marcion believed Christ to be a phantom is Tertullian, who presents it within Adversus Marcionem. However, these claims appear to function more as a reductio ad absurdum—an exaggerated rhetorical device—than a faithful representation of Marcion’s own Christology. Ironically, even within Tertullian’s own polemic, there are remnants suggesting that Marcion affirmed Christ’s possession of real flesh—flesh capable of suffering and dying on the cross. Tertullian simply dismissed these details as inconsistent and irrational rather than reassessing his accusations. Modern scholarship has increasingly rejected Tertullian’s caricature, particularly given that nearly all other early sources from the second and third centuries are silent regarding any association between Marcion and Docetism.

The doctrine of Docetism finds no support in the Testamentum, and it is explicitly refuted by Marcion’s foremost disciple, Apelles. According to Rhodo, an early Christian writer, Apelles rejected Docetism outright, affirming that Jesus truly possessed human flesh—though not born of human parents. Apelles taught that Jesus descended directly from Heaven and appeared in human form, possessing real flesh, but not through natural birth. This belief aligns with the textual structure of the Evangelicon, which contains no nativity or birth narrative, omits any mention of the Virgin Mary, and begins with Christ’s sudden appearance in Capernaum. Apelles upheld the Marcionite view that Jesus entered the world fully formed, not through human generation, but by divine descent.

Misunderstandings about Marcion’s theology are largely due to the fact that nearly all surviving accounts were written by hostile Catholic Church Fathers intent on discrediting him. In Evangelicon 23:36–42, Jesus explicitly demonstrates the reality of His body after the resurrection:

“But they were terrified and affrighted, and supposed that they had seen a phantom. And he said unto them, Why are ye troubled? and why do thoughts arise in your hearts? Behold my hands and my feet, that it is I myself: for a spirit hath not flesh and bones, as ye see me have. And when he had thus spoken, he shewed them his hands and his feet. And while they yet believed not for joy, and wondered, he said unto them, Have ye here any meat? And they gave him a piece of a broiled fish, and of an honeycomb. And he took it, and did eat before them.”

This passage affirms both the physicality and continuity of Christ’s risen body—explicitly refuting any notion that Marcionite theology denied Christ’s true humanity.

It is likely that the association of Marcion with Docetism arose from confusion with another figure: Marcian of Rhossus, a contemporary of Marcion who led a Docetist sect believed to have authored or used the Gospel of Peter. Since Marcion rejected Peter and upheld Paul alone as the true apostolic witness to Christ, it is implausible that he and this Marcian were the same individual.

Furthermore, while one of Marcion’s disciples—Lucanus—is reported to have embraced Docetist beliefs, including denial of the physical body of Christ and the immortality of the soul, these views were not representative of the broader Marcionite Church, which consistently upheld the teachings of Marcion and the authority of the Testamentum.

Finally, some accusations of Docetism may have stemmed from Marcion’s eschatological position, which aligns with that of the Apostle Paul—namely, that it is the soul or spirit that is raised in the resurrection, not flesh and blood. This view, focused on spiritual resurrection for believers, may have led critics to falsely extend the belief to Christ, erroneously assuming that the Marcionite Church denied His physical resurrection. Yet, as the Evangelicon affirms, Jesus not only appeared in the flesh but suffered, died, and rose bodily—refuting the charge of Docetism entirely.

No, Marcionite Christians are not dualists, except in the limited sense that the Testamentum acknowledges the existence of opposing forces—namely, that Satan is the adversary of both mankind and the true God. This acknowledgment of moral conflict does not amount to theological dualism in the classical sense.

Marcion’s foremost disciple, Apelles, directly rejected the accusation of dualism leveled against Marcionite Christians. He firmly reaffirmed belief in a single, supreme God—the Father of Jesus Christ—above all powers and principalities. Apelles declared unequivocally:

“One good God, one Beginning, and one Power beyond all description.”

Classical dualism refers to the belief in two equal and opposing divine beings or principles—often one of light and one of darkness—co-existing in a cosmic balance. This is not the Marcionite view. Marcionite Christianity does not teach that there are two co-equal gods—one of the so-called “Old Testament” and one of the “New.” Rather, it holds that the god portrayed in the Hebrew Bible is a false and counterfeit deity, unworthy of worship, and that the Hebrew scriptures are neither divinely inspired nor religiously binding upon Christians. They are viewed as filled with contradictions, failed prophecies, and fables that may have limited historical or moral value but no spiritual authority.

The Testamentum affirms that the one true God was revealed for the first time through Jesus Christ. The Apostle Paul makes this clear in his teaching:

“As concerning therefore the eating of those things that are offered in sacrifice unto idols, we know that an idol is nothing in the world, and that there is none other God but one.”
I Corinthians 8:4

Thus, the Marcionite Church of Christ upholds strict monotheism: there is only one true God, the Father revealed by Christ—not two divine beings in opposition, but one supreme and good God wholly distinct from the false deity of the Hebrew Bible.

The Marcionite Church of Christ affirms the doctrine of Dyophysitism—the belief that Jesus Christ is one person, of one substance (ousia) and one hypostasis, possessing two distinct yet inseparable natures: one fully divine, and the other fully human.

Marcion of Sinope upheld both the unity of Christ’s person and the reality of His dual mode of existence. His teachings emphasized that the Lord Jesus was not a mere apparition or a being of divided substance, but truly both God and man. As preserved in Ephesians 5:8 of the Testamentum, Marcion writes:

“There is one only physician, of flesh and of spirit, generate and ingenerate, God in man, true Life in death, Son of Man and Son of God, first passible and then impassible, Jesus Christ our Lord.”

This confession reflects the Marcionite understanding of Christ’s incarnation—not as a mixture or confusion of natures, but as a mysterious unity of divine and human in the one person of Jesus, sent by the Father to redeem the world.

“In whom the god of this world hath blinded the minds of them which believe not, lest the light of the glorious gospel of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine unto them.”
2 Corinthians 4:4

In this verse, the phrase “god of this world” is a clear reference to Satan. It signifies that Satan is the dominant influence over the thoughts, values, aspirations, and beliefs of the unbelieving world. His influence permeates worldly systems—including philosophy, culture, education, and commerce—and is expressed through ideologies, false religions, and deceptions that distort the truth and blind humanity to the light of the Gospel.

Elsewhere, Satan is called “the prince of the power of the air” (Laodiceans 2:2), a title that emphasizes his sway over the spiritual realm of this world. These titles do not imply that Satan possesses ultimate or unrestrained authority; rather, they describe the scope of his permitted influence. God remains sovereign, and in His divine wisdom, He has allowed Satan a measure of jurisdiction—limited in scope and confined to those who remain outside the light of Christ.

Paul consistently affirms this limited dominion throughout his epistles. In 1 Corinthians 2:6–8, he writes, “Howbeit we speak wisdom among them that are perfect: yet not the wisdom of this world, nor of the princes of this world, that come to nought… which none of the princes of this world knew: for had they known it, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory.” These “princes of this world” are not earthly rulers, but demonic powers—fallen spirits who operate behind the scenes of worldly authority. Deceived by their own arrogance, they failed to recognize Christ’s divine identity and became unwitting agents of their own defeat. Their reign is doomed to vanish, for the crucifixion they orchestrated secured their final undoing.

When the Testamentum declares that Satan has power over the world, it must be understood that this dominion extends only to the realm of the unbelieving. Those who belong to Christ are delivered from Satan’s rule and brought into the kingdom of God’s light and truth.

Thus, when the Apostle Paul calls Satan “the god of this world,” he is underscoring the specific way in which Satan exerts authority—by blinding the minds of unbelievers to prevent them from perceiving the glory of Christ. Through false philosophies and deceptive systems, Satan constructs intellectual and spiritual fortresses that imprison the hearts and minds of humanity. These strongholds can only be broken by the liberating truth of the Gospel, revealed in Jesus Christ, who alone sets the captives free.

And in Evangelicon 24:16, Jesus declares, “The prince of this world cometh, and hath nothing in me.” This statement reveals the personal and singular role of Satan as the ruler of the present age. Though he approaches with hostility, he holds no claim over Christ. His dominion is confined to those who walk in darkness, and his defeat is assured. Christ, the image of the true God, stands utterly apart from the prince of this world—uncontaminated, unconquered, and victorious.

Marcionite Christianity affirms that moral evil arises not from a dualistic cosmos or an evil demiurge, but from the willful disobedience of mankind to the one true God revealed through Jesus Christ. There is no need to posit a rival deity to explain the presence of evil in the world; it is the product of human freedom misused.

Moral evil consists of the actions, thoughts, and omissions of individuals that violate the law of love—the divine will revealed in the Gospel. Acts such as murder, theft, hatred, cruelty, or the refusal to show mercy are all expressions of moral evil. It also includes sins of omission: to ignore a plea for help or to remain indifferent in the face of injustice is itself a form of moral failure.

As the Apostle Paul writes:

“Wherefore, as by one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin; and so death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned.”
Romans 4:12

The cumulative effect of humanity’s disobedience is the broken and suffering world we now witness—not a creation marred by divine intent, but one corrupted by man’s rejection of God’s goodness.

All violence, corruption, and sorrow find their origin in the human heart’s refusal to love God and to love one’s neighbor. Trace any moral evil to its source, and one finds sin—the willful turning away from the true God.

God does not forcibly eliminate moral evil, because to do so would mean abolishing human freedom. And without freedom, there is no personhood, no capacity for genuine love, no ability to reflect the image of God. A being without free will is not made in God’s image. Free will is necessary for eternal existence, for worship, for obedience, and for love. Worship that is coerced or mechanical is not worship at all—it is an insult to God.

Therefore, God permits moral evil to exist within the bounds of human freedom, using even suffering and consequence as tools to teach mankind the goodness it once knew but lost through sin.

The problem of moral evil was addressed at the cross, where Christ bore the weight of human sin. The power of death was overcome in His resurrection. Though evil remains present in the world and continues to cause suffering and death, God has acted decisively in Christ to redeem what man has ruined. He offers forgiveness for our sins and the promise of life beyond death—a life without evil or sorrow.

Imagine a world without the possibility of forgiveness for moral evil. In Christ, we have been spared such hopelessness. God has given us His Word, His Spirit, and His Gospel as a sustaining source of truth and strength through the trials of this life. The resurrection of Jesus stands as the pledge of our own, and the hope of restoration beyond the reach of evil.

Though we may feel powerless to change the world at large, each of us has the capacity to overcome the dominion of moral evil in our own lives through Jesus Christ. In doing so, we diminish its power—not only in ourselves but in every soul we help lead to Christ. Through the Gospel, we are not passive witnesses to the world’s decay, but active participants in its redemption.

But couldn’t God have created a world without evil?

It’s a fair question—and one that has been asked for centuries. Let us consider a few possibilities. If God had created nothing at all, there would be no evil—but there would also be no life, no love, no joy, no free will. A world of nothingness is not preferable to a world in which goodness, even amid struggle, can flourish.

What if God had created a world in which creatures could not choose freely? In such a world, people might be prevented from ever committing evil acts—but they would also be incapable of genuine love, worship, or obedience. Without free will, there can be no true relationship with God, no moral growth, no meaningful distinction between virtue and vice.

A world without choice is a world without the image of God. Forced obedience is not righteousness—it is automation. But the true God, revealed through Jesus Christ, seeks children, not machines. He desires willing hearts, not coerced behavior. Freedom entails risk—but it also makes possible the glory of redemption.

Thus, we believe, in God’s wisdom, that this present world—with all its trials and sorrows—is a necessary path to something greater. The suffering we experience is not the end of the story. As the Apostle Paul reminds us:

“For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.”
Romans 8:18

This is the promise that sustains us: not that we will be spared all pain, but that all suffering will be redeemed in the eternal kingdom to come.

Now that we understand the origin of evil in the world, how are we to respond to the suffering it brings?

The Apostle Paul, who endured profound affliction for the sake of Christ, offers a powerful model for how believers should approach suffering. He did not resist it in bitterness but embraced it as a meaningful part of his calling. From his example, we learn that suffering is not meaningless. It reveals much about our relationship to God—its purpose, its effects, and the promise it carries.

Suffering affirms that we belong to God.
Suffering produces endurance and, ultimately, hope.
Suffering leads others to glorify God.
Suffering is permitted under God’s sovereign care.
And most of all, we are never alone in our suffering.

Though suffering is a reality in this world, its fruit is lasting joy and eternal reward.

First, Paul teaches that suffering cultivates hope—a hope not based on the seen or temporary, but on the eternal:

“Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ:
By whom also we have access by faith into this grace wherein we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God.
And not only so, but we glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience;
And patience, experience; and experience, hope:
And hope maketh not ashamed; because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us.”
Romans 5:1–5

Paul also acknowledged that his afflictions brought him to the limits of human strength so that he would learn to rely fully on God:

“For we would not, brethren, have you ignorant of our trouble which came to us in Asia,
that we were pressed out of measure, above strength, insomuch that we despaired even of life:
But we had the sentence of death in ourselves, that we should not trust in ourselves, but in God which raiseth the dead:
Who delivered us from so great a death, and doth deliver: in whom we trust that he will yet deliver us;
Ye also helping together by prayer for us…”
2 Corinthians 1:8–11

This trust in God’s sovereign care is echoed in Paul’s well-known reassurance:

“And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God,
to them who are the called according to his purpose.”
Romans 8:28

Yet we must remember: what is “good” in God’s eyes may not align with what we naturally desire. When Paul pleaded with God to remove a persistent suffering—his “thorn in the flesh”—God refused, but not without purpose. He responded:

“My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness.”
2 Corinthians 12:9

God did not remove Paul’s suffering because that very weakness revealed God’s strength—and drew others to glorify Him.

Paul also taught that the comfort we receive in our own trials equips us to comfort others:

“Who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble,
by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God.”
2 Corinthians 1:4

Those who have walked through the valley of suffering are uniquely qualified to guide others through it. They become vessels of God’s grace, ministering to others with the same compassion they themselves received.

Even creation, Paul reminds us, suffers alongside humanity:

“For we know that the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now.”
Romans 8:22

Disease, death, and decay are all part of the current age. Yet this age is not the end.

The hope of the believer lies in Christ’s return. As Paul gently reminds us:

“Let your moderation be known unto all men. The Lord is at hand.”
Philippians 4:5

The Lord is near. He is close to the brokenhearted and soon to return to restore all things. In our present trials, we are not abandoned. We wait, with hope, for the fulfillment of what God has promised: a new creation, free of suffering, where every tear is wiped away and every sorrow redeemed.

The Marcionite Church rejected the doctrine of original sin as developed by the emerging Catholic tradition, which taught that all humanity inherited guilt and condemnation from Adam’s disobedience in the Garden of Eden. This belief, rooted in the mythological creation story of Genesis, portrayed humanity as fallen by nature and deserving of divine wrath from birth. For Marcionites, such a doctrine slandered the character of God and obscured the message of Christ.

In contrast, Marcion and his followers taught that sin had entered the world because human beings possess free will. It was not guilt that was transmitted from one generation to the next, but the ongoing capacity for moral failure in a world shaped by corruption, law, and violence. Each soul, they believed, was responsible for its own choices—not for the imagined rebellion of a mythical first man.

The Catholic doctrine of original sin served to bind humanity under the law and justify the legalistic authority of the institutional church. The Marcionite Gospel offered a radically different vision. The good God, revealed through Jesus Christ, did not impose inherited guilt but extended unconditional mercy, calling humanity not to appease divine wrath, but to receive divine love.

In this, the Marcionites proclaimed a message of freedom over bondage, grace over guilt, and truth over myth—a Gospel that liberated rather than condemned.

The Marcionite Church of Christ affirms that free will is a sacred gift from the true God, enabling each soul to choose faith, obedience, and love for Christ. Without free will, worship would be hollow and salvation meaningless.

We are not born guilty. Marcionite Christians reject the doctrine of original sin and hold that accountability begins when a person can discern right from wrong.

As the Apostle Paul writes:

“Servants, be obedient to them that are your masters according to the flesh, with fear and trembling, in singleness of your heart, as unto Christ.” — Laodiceans 6:5

Such obedience must be freely given, not coerced. It is by the voluntary turning of the heart that one enters into the liberty of the Gospel.

Thus, free will is essential to the Christian life and to the transformative grace offered by the God revealed in Jesus Christ.

Marcionites affirm that reason is a limited but valuable faculty for understanding the world, yet it cannot unveil the true God. Human philosophies, though often admired, fall into grave error when they attempt to define the divine through material elements or natural forces. As Marcion’s Homily to Diognetus warns: “Or dost thou accept the empty and nonsensical statements of those pretentious philosophers: of whom some said that God was fire they call that God, whereunto they themselves shall go, and others water, and others some other of the elements which were created by God?” (8:2).

Marcionites, though conversant with the language of philosophy, reject its claim to divine knowledge apart from revelation. Revelation from God the Father is not the product of contemplation or debate, but an act of divine initiative, breaking into history through Christ. Though reason cannot discover God the Father on its own, it may serve the faithful in expressing and defending the truth once revealed. Reason may illuminate, but it can never originate the truth revealed by God the Father through Christ.

Yes. While it is likely that Marcion of Sinope and the earliest Marcionite communities initially held to a form of Modalism or Binitarianism—evidenced by Cyprian of Carthage’s report that Marcionites originally baptized converts only in the name of Jesus Christ—the Marcionite Church eventually affirmed Trinitarian theology. A key turning point came through Syneros, a disciple of Marcion and contemporary of Apelles, who articulated a belief in the “three natures,” an early formulation that anticipated the formal doctrine of the Trinity.

Scripture itself reveals the triune nature of God: God the Father, God the Son (Jesus Christ), and God the Holy Spirit.

By the fourth century, Augustine of Hippo confirmed that Marcionites of his time were baptizing converts “in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit,” clearly aligning with the Trinitarian formula established in the wider Church. This practice is further affirmed by the fact that Marcionite baptisms were often accepted as valid by other churches during the third-century Baptismal Controversy.

“Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.”
Evangelicon 24:74

The Apostle Paul also references the Trinitarian structure in his epistles:

“The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Ghost, be with you all. Amen.”
2 Corinthians 13:14

In addition, the Psalmicon—a Marcionite liturgical text—echoes Trinitarian theology without any hint of subordinationism:

“And the name of the Father was on it and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, to rule for ever and ever. Amen.”
Psalmicon 21:20

Thus, while early Marcionism may have expressed a simpler view of divine identity, the tradition grew to embrace the triune nature of God as revealed in scripture and reflected in worship and sacrament.

Yes. Christocentrism refers to a theological orientation within Christianity in which the person and work of Jesus Christ serve as the central focus around which all other doctrines and interpretations revolve. A Christocentric framework places Christ at the heart of Christian understanding, affirming that all divine revelation and authority are ultimately rooted in Him.

The Apostle Paul articulates the foundation of this approach:

“For Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to every one that believeth.”
Romans 8:7

Marcion of Sinope extended and systematized this principle by asserting that the revelation of Christ constitutes the highest and final authority in matters of faith. For Marcion, the person of Jesus—His incarnation, death, and resurrection—superseded and transcended the authority of the Hebrew scriptures. The Gospel of Christ, preserved in the Testamentum, became the inviolable standard by which all else must be measured.

In responding to those who demanded validation from Hebrew texts, Marcion drew a sharp distinction:

“For I heard certain persons saying, ‘If I find it not in the charters, I believe it not in the Gospel.’ And when I said to them, ‘It is written,’ they answered me, ‘That is the question.’ But as for me, my charter is Jesus Christ, the inviolable charter is His cross and His death and His resurrection, and faith through Him.”
Philadelphians 9:6–8

This bold affirmation encapsulates the Christocentric heart of Marcionite Christianity: all truth and authority flow from the revelation of Jesus Christ alone.

Yes. The doctrine of the virgin birth of Jesus is so widely accepted within mainstream Christianity that questioning it is often treated as heretical. However, this belief is absent from the earliest Christian texts and traditions—including those foundational to Marcionite Christianity.

Most biblical scholars agree that the Gospel of Mark is the earliest of the four canonical gospels. Notably, it contains no account of Jesus’s birth or childhood. Its abrupt opening—beginning with the baptism of Jesus—closely mirrors the structure of the Evangelicon, the Gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ as compiled and canonized by Marcion of Sinope in the first Christian Bible. Likewise, the Gospel of John, typically dated the latest of the canonical gospels, also makes no mention of a birth narrative, virgin or otherwise. This absence suggests that the virgin birth was either unknown to these gospel authors or not considered essential to the message they intended to convey.

The nativity stories appear only in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke, and they differ significantly. Both assert a miraculous conception by the Holy Spirit, yet both also provide genealogies through Joseph—whose biological connection to Jesus, according to those same accounts, is explicitly denied. This contradiction is often overlooked in modern Christian tradition, yet it raises fundamental questions about the coherence of the virgin birth doctrine.

Moreover, narratives of miraculous or virgin births predate Christianity and appear across a range of mythological and religious traditions. Hinduism speaks of Krishna, born of a virgin with signs and wonders surrounding his birth, including a jealous king and a massacre of infants. Similar motifs exist in stories about the Buddha, Horus of Egypt, Mithra of Persia, and others. The Roman world was steeped in such mythological archetypes, and early Christian converts, particularly those interacting with Eastern traditions, may have found such stories compelling or even necessary for affirming Jesus’s divine status in a polytheistic culture.

It appears that the doctrine of the virgin birth gained traction during the second century, well after the compilation of the original Testamentum. There is no record of this belief among the first generation of Christians or in the Pauline epistles, which never mention a virgin birth. The earliest mentions of the four canonical gospels as a unified body of scripture do not appear until Irenaeus around 190 C.E.—long after Marcion had established the first Christian canon based solely on Paul’s writings and the Evangelicon.

The virgin birth, therefore, seems to be a theological development rather than an apostolic teaching. Its function was to graft Jesus onto the prophecies and lineage of the Hebrew Bible, which Marcionite Christians firmly reject. For Marcion and his followers, Jesus was not the Jewish Messiah foretold by the Hebrew prophets but the divine Son of God who entered the world from Heaven to reveal the previously unknown Father.

The importance of Jesus Christ lies not in the manner of his earthly arrival, but in the divine mission he accomplished through his death and resurrection. The foundation of the Christian faith is not the nativity—it is the cross and the empty tomb.

“Without father, without mother, without descent, having neither beginning of days, nor end of life; but made like unto the Son of God; abideth a priest continually.”
Alexandrians 8:3

This verse encapsulates the Marcionite understanding: Christ came not through human lineage, but directly from the Father, outside the constraints of earthly descent or Judaic expectation.

No. James the Just was not the biological brother of Jesus Christ. According to early Christian tradition, he was one of the Seventy Disciples and the first bishop of the Jerusalem Church. The Apostle Paul refers to him as one of the three “pillars” of the early Church, alongside Peter (Cephas) and John:

“And when James, Cephas, and John, who seemed to be pillars, perceived the grace that was given unto me, they gave to me and Barnabas the right hands of fellowship; that we should go unto the heathen, and they unto the circumcision.”
Galatians 2:9

Paul also refers to James as “the Lord’s brother”:

“But other of the apostles saw I none, save James the Lord’s brother.”
Galatians 1:19

And again, James is named among those to whom the risen Christ appeared:

“And that he was buried, and that he rose again the third day according to the scriptures: And that he was seen of Cephas, then of the twelve… After that, he was seen of James; then of all the apostles.”
1 Corinthians 15:4–7

In all of these cases, the term “brother” comes from the Koine Greek word adelphos, which often denotes spiritual kinship rather than blood relation. This is evident throughout Paul’s epistles, where he frequently uses the term to describe fellow believers and co-laborers in the faith.

For example:

• Paul calls Apollos “our brother”:
  “As touching our brother Apollos…” (1 Corinthians 16:12)

• He refers to Timothy as “our brother”:
  “Paul, an apostle… and Timothy our brother…” (2 Corinthians 1:1)

• He describes Titus as “my brother”:
  “…because I found not Titus my brother…” (2 Corinthians 2:13)

• He calls Tychicus a “beloved brother”:
  “…Tychicus, a beloved brother and faithful minister in the Lord…” (Laodiceans 6:21)

• He refers to Onesimus likewise:
  “…Onesimus, a faithful and beloved brother…” (Colossians 4:9)

• He describes Epaphroditus as “my brother”:
  “…Epaphroditus, my brother, and companion in labour…” (Philippians 2:25)

• And he calls Sosthenes “our brother”:
  “…Sosthenes our brother.” (1 Corinthians 1:1)

These consistent usages demonstrate that “brother” in Paul’s writings does not signify a literal family relationship but a spiritual or communal bond in Christ.

Neither Catholic, Orthodox, nor Lutheran traditions today insist on a biological brotherhood between Jesus and James, instead suggesting he may have been a cousin, step-brother, or some other familial relation. However, the Marcionite Church of Christ rejects any physical or biological kinship between James and Jesus, affirming instead that James was a spiritual brother—one of the early leaders of the Church, not of Christ’s household, but of his mission.

The honorific title “the Lord’s brother” was used by Paul to emphasize James’ importance in the early Christian community, particularly in Jerusalem, and his role as a witness to the risen Christ—just as Paul himself was. But this title in no way suggests biological relation. Rather, it affirms the spiritual unity shared by all who follow Christ in truth and faith.

If Jesus was not born to Mary and Joseph, then why did he bear the name “Jesus”? The name Jesus is derived from the Hebrew Yeshua, meaning “to rescue,” “to save,” or simply “salvation.” These meanings are entirely consistent with his divine mission: he came to bring salvation to all people, transcending nations and borders.

Though the precise mysteries of the divine may remain beyond our full comprehension as mortal beings, it is reasonable to conclude that Jesus chose a name that would be both accessible to those he ministered to and rich in symbolic meaning. His name, therefore, was not merely a cultural reference point but a direct reflection of his purpose—to redeem and to save.

Why did Jesus choose to descend into Capernaum, a modest fishing village in Galilee, rather than any other place on Earth? While we, as finite beings, cannot fully comprehend the workings of the divine, we can attempt to reason through the possibilities with the light we have been given.

It may be that Jesus chose Galilee—and, by extension, Samaria and Judea—because it was one of the few regions in the world at that time where some form of monotheism was practiced. This theological framework, though flawed and distorted, may have prepared the people there to more readily grasp the truth of the God revealed through Christ. Their belief in an omnipotent, omniscient, and incorporeal deity aligned more closely with the nature of the true Father than the polytheism found elsewhere.

Another possible reason is the ministry of John the Baptist, who preached repentance and prepared the hearts of many for the coming of Christ. Jesus himself acknowledged John’s unique role:

“For I say unto you, Among those that are born of women there is not a greater prophet than John the Baptist: but he that is least in the kingdom of God is greater than he.”
Evangelicon 5:29

This may suggest that Jesus chose to enter the region west of the Jordan River not only to fulfill a mission of salvation, but to affirm and build upon the groundwork laid by John.

The Jews and Samaritans, despite their many errors, did acknowledge many attributes of God the Father—his eternal nature, his spiritual essence, and his sovereign authority. It was during the Transfiguration that the true Father was fully revealed through Christ, making this region the place where spiritual blindness could begin to be undone.

Additionally, some Marcionite Christians believe that Yahweh, the deity worshipped in the Hebrew Bible, is in fact Satan masquerading as God. In this view, Jesus’ choice to descend into a land devoted to that false god was a deliberate act of confrontation—to overturn the false covenant and expose its author. As Jesus declared:

“Think not that I am come to fulfil the law, or the prophets: I am not come to fulfil, but to destroy.”
Evangelicon 14:16

While these reflections provide insight, they remain conjecture. The true answer to why Jesus descended where he did may never be fully known in this life. What matters above all is not the geography of his appearance, but the authority of his teaching and the salvation he brought.

No. The Jewish Messiah, as envisioned in the Hebrew scriptures, is described as a militant leader—a bearer of arms and skilled in warfare. By contrast, our Lord Jesus Christ, who has already come, bears no resemblance to this figure. The distinction between Jesus Christ and the expected Jewish Messiah is stark. The Jewish Messiah was prophesied as a restorer of a single nation, Israel, gathering it from dispersion and reestablishing earthly dominion. Our Lord, by contrast, was sent not to restore a nation but to liberate all of humanity, offering salvation to every nation, tribe, and people.

The prophecies of Isaiah regarding the Jewish Messiah do not align with the life or mission of Jesus. Isaiah’s Messiah is said to be named Emmanuel (Isaiah 7:14), and to plunder Damascus and Samaria before the king of Assyria (Isaiah 8:4). These descriptions do not suit Jesus Christ, who neither bore that name nor participated in military conquest or nationalistic violence.

Our Lord Jesus Christ was not foretold in the Hebrew Bible. His suffering and death on the cross contradict the expectations of a Jewish Messiah and are in fact condemned by the Hebrew scriptures themselves. According to the Law, anyone hung on a tree is accursed of the false god:

“And if a man have committed a sin worthy of death, and he be to be put to death, and thou hang him on a tree: His body shall not remain all night upon the tree, but thou shalt in any wise bury him that day; (for he that is hanged is accursed of God;) that thy land be not defiled, which the Lord thy God giveth thee for an inheritance.”
—Deuteronomy 21:22–23

This passage only reinforces the conclusion that the god of the Hebrew Bible—the lawgiver who curses the crucified—is a false deity and not the Father revealed by Jesus.

Marcion taught that Christ was the sudden savior, who descended from Heaven in the form of a fully mature man. He came to rescue believers from bondage to the Law of the false god and returned to Heaven after accomplishing his mission. He was not the Messiah of Judaic expectation, nor did he fulfill any of the prophecies claimed by the Jewish tradition. Neither Christ nor his Apostles, especially Paul, subjected themselves to the Law or its ordinances. Marcion’s Testamentum made no attempt to reconcile the Gospel with the Hebrew scriptures, for it recognized no continuity between the two. Christ was not the fulfillment of Judaism, but its rejection—and the revelation of a new and true God.

Marcionite Christians would not have used the word Christ—Christos in Greek—in the sense of affirming Jesus as the Jewish Messiah. While the term Christos literally means “anointed,” Marcionite Christians likely understood it in a more general, symbolic sense, referring to Jesus’ spiritual mission rather than any fulfillment of Hebrew prophecy. The reference to Jesus being anointed with oil before his passion, as found in the Evangelicon, supports this interpretation:

“My head with oil thou didst not anoint: but this woman hath anointed my feet with ointment.”
—Evangelicon 5:47

This anointing of the feet, rather than the head as in Israelite tradition, marked a key divergence from Jewish messianic customs and indicated that Jesus’ kingship was not of this world. While none of the ancient critics of Marcion—including Tertullian and Epiphanius—accused the Marcionite Christians of using an alternate word in place of Christos, Tertullian does note that Marcionites practiced anointing newly baptized believers with oil, reflecting a continuation of this spiritual symbolism.

An important historical artifact sheds further light on Marcionite terminology. On October 1st, 318 C.E., Paul of Lebaba, a Marcionite presbyter, dedicated a church in the Syrian village of Lebaba. The surviving inscription is the oldest known inscribed reference to Jesus and uses a related term, Chrestos—meaning “good” or “righteous”—rather than Christos. The inscription reads:

“The meeting-house of the Marcionites, in the village of Lebaba, of the Lord and Saviour Jesus the Good — Erected by the forethought of Paul a presbyter, in the year 630 Seleucid era.”

This phrase, “Jesus the Good,” was likely a devotional title emphasizing his moral perfection and divine benevolence, not a doctrinal replacement for Christ. Indeed, the Testamentum refers to Jesus by many titles—Lord, Saviour, Son of God, and Son of Man—reflecting his multifaceted role in Marcionite theology.

Even in the Septuagint—the Greek translation of the Hebrew Bible—the term Christos is not reserved for a singular Jewish messianic figure. It is applied to Israelite kings, high priests, prophets, patriarchs, and even foreign rulers like Cyrus the Great. Thus, the Marcionite use of the term Christos would have aligned with its more general meaning: one who is consecrated, not necessarily one who fulfills Jewish nationalist expectations.

Marcionite Christians affirmed that Jesus’ anointing was spiritual, not political, and that his mission had nothing to do with the restoration of Israel under the law of the false god. Instead, Jesus was anointed to proclaim the Kingdom of God—a heavenly, universal reign in which he now sits at the right hand of the true God, revealed only through the Gospel.

This understanding also helps explain the significance of the Chi Rho symbol within Marcionite tradition. The Chi Rho, formed by the overlapping Greek letters chi (Χ) and rho (Ρ), stands for both Christos (anointed) and Chrestos (good). It represents the dual truths of Jesus’ divine mission: that he is both the anointed emissary of God the Father and the embodiment of perfect goodness.

No, Melchizedec is not to be identified with Jesus Christ. Rather, he functions as a literary foreshadowing or typological figure within the Apostle Paul’s Epistle to the Alexandrians. Paul employs the figure of Melchizedec to illustrate key aspects of Christ’s eternal priesthood to an audience familiar with Hebrew traditions.

Melchizedec appears only briefly in the Book of Genesis, where he offers a symbolic sacrifice of bread and wine and receives tithes from Abraham. The Hebrew Bible provides no account of his ancestry, birth, or death, leading some to interpret him as an eternal priest without origin or conclusion. The name “Melchizedec” itself is not a proper name but a title, meaning “King of Righteousness.”

In the Epistle to the Alexandrians, the Apostle Paul does not equate Melchizedec with Christ but states clearly that Melchizedec resembles the Son of God. This resemblance lies in his portrayal as timeless and in his offering of bread and wine—elements that Christ himself fulfills in the true, spiritual sense. Paul’s usage is allegorical, not literal; Melchizedec serves as a figure by which to explain Christ’s superior and eternal priesthood.

The Apostle Paul never defines Melchizedec’s identity because the purpose of referencing him was pedagogical, not doctrinal. Paul is instructing the Alexandrian believers—many of whom were familiar with the Hebrew scriptures—by reinterpreting their literary heritage in light of the Gospel of the Lord Jesus.

“Whither the forerunner is for us entered, even Jesus, made an high priest for ever after the order of Melchisedec.”
—Alexandrians 8:5

Yes. The doctrine of Christian independence from Judaism found its earliest and most decisive advocate in Marcion of Sinope. It was Marcion who first made explicit the theological break between the Gospel of Christ and the religion of the Hebrew Bible. In direct response to Marcion’s teachings, what would become the Catholic Church developed in opposition—adopting various theological modifications that increasingly obscured the clarity and simplicity evident in Marcion’s Gospel-centered Christianity.

By preserving Jewish monotheism as its foundational dogma—as reflected in later creeds—the Catholic Church left open the door for a reabsorption of Hebrew Bible traditions. Over time, this led to a gradual adoption of many of the same features found in ancient Israel’s religious system, including an increasingly complex clerical hierarchy, formalized ritualism, and a hostility toward theological dissent. In this way, the trajectory of Catholicism moved away from the liberating message of the Gospel and toward the legalism Marcion opposed.

Before Marcion, Christianity was widely perceived by Pagans as little more than a sect within Judaism. Marcion’s proclamation of the Testamentum marked a turning point—establishing Christianity as a distinct faith with its own canon, doctrine, and God. Following this, the Judaizing factions within the early church, whose beliefs and practices aligned more closely with Mosaic law, became increasingly marginalized and eventually formed separate sects. This was inevitable, for the covenant of Moses was incompatible with the revelation brought by Jesus Christ and proclaimed by Paul.

Prior to Marcion’s influence, many Christians had begun reverting to Hebrew customs and using the Hebrew scriptures as authoritative. But with the publication of the Testamentum, the landscape of Christianity shifted, and four main currents emerged: the Gnostics, who pursued hidden wisdom; the Catholics, who sought a synthesis with Judaism; the Judaizers, who remained loyal to Mosaic tradition; and the Marcionites, who proclaimed the new and true covenant revealed by Christ and preserved in Paul’s Gospel.

“Not giving heed to Jewish fables, and commandments of men, that turn from the truth.”
—Titus 1:13

Yes. Marcionite Christians believe that salvation comes by faith and through divine grace, not through adherence to the Law of Moses. They affirm that the Law of Moses has been set aside in favor of the Law of Christ. However, this freedom from the Mosaic Law is never taken as a license for sin or fleshly indulgence.

This position is grounded firmly in the writings of the Apostle Paul, who writes:

“For sin shall not have dominion over you: for ye are not under the law, but under grace. What then? shall we sin, because we are not under the law, but under grace? God forbid.”
Romans 5:14-15

Paul continues:

“For Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to every one that believeth.”
Romans 8:7

While rejecting the Mosaic Law, Marcionite Christians recognize that moral truths are accessible through natural law—what Paul refers to when speaking of Gentiles:

“For when the Gentiles, which have not the law, do by nature the things contained in the law, these, having not the law, are a law unto themselves: Which shew the work of the law written in their hearts, their conscience also bearing witness, and their thoughts the mean while accusing or else excusing one another.”
Romans 2:5-6

Paul reprimands the Galatians for returning to the Law of Moses, calling it a regression:

“O foolish Galatians, who hath bewitched you, that ye should not obey the truth, before whose eyes Jesus Christ hath been evidently set forth, crucified among you?… Are ye so foolish? having begun in the Spirit, are ye now made perfect by the flesh?”
Galatians 3:1-3

Marcionite Christians follow Paul’s emphasis on salvation by grace alone:

“For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God: Not of works, lest any man should boast.”
Laodiceans 2:8-9

Paul also affirms Christian liberty from the law:

“And that because of false brethren unawares brought in, who came in privily to spy out our liberty which we have in Christ Jesus, that they might bring us into bondage.”
Galatians 2:4

Finally, Paul declares the Law of Moses abolished in Christ’s crucifixion:

“And you, being dead in your sins and the uncircumcision of your flesh, hath he quickened together with him, having forgiven you all trespasses; Blotting out the handwriting of ordinances that was against us… and took it out of the way, nailing it to his cross.”
Colossians 2:13-14

In every respect, Marcionite Christianity upholds the Apostle Paul’s antinomian stance: salvation is a gift received by faith, not a prize earned through legal obedience.

Yes. The Marcionite Church of Christ rejects all ecumenical councils and recognizes only the Apostolic Council of Jerusalem held in 48 C.E.—the sole council recorded in scripture and the only one presided over directly by the Apostles themselves.

This council affirmed that followers of Jesus were not bound to observe the Mosaic Law, including circumcision, Sabbath regulations, or ritual fasting. However, it did retain a limited set of ethical and ritual instructions, now known as the Apostolic Decree. These include abstaining from food offered to idols, from blood and meat from strangled animals, and from idolatry and sexual immorality.

The Marcionite Church holds that this decree, issued by the Apostles, remains the only legitimate and binding conciliar directive in the history of the faith.

Yes. Marcionite Christians affirm creationism in the sense that we believe God is the ultimate creator of Heaven, Earth, and all life. However, we reject the creation account presented in the Book of Genesis within the Hebrew Bible. We do not accept the notion that the world was created in six literal days or that it is only a few thousand years old. In keeping with our doctrine of Prima Scriptura, where scripture does not provide definitive answers, we turn to reason and observation. Thus, we accept the findings of science regarding the structure and age of the universe, while maintaining our core belief that all things ultimately originate from God.

As the Apostle Paul writes:

“Who is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of every creature: For by him were all things created, that are in heaven, and that are in earth, visible and invisible, whether they be thrones, or dominions, or principalities, or powers: all things were created by him, and for him: And he is before all things, and by him all things consist.”
—Colossians 1:15–17

Apelles, a disciple of Marcion, proposed that the physical world may have been shaped by a subordinate heavenly being or archangel, though always under the authority of the one true God revealed through Jesus Christ.

Yes. Sola Fide, or justification by faith alone, is the belief that a person is made righteous before God not through “works of the law”—sometimes referred to as good deeds—but through faith. While good works may be a natural outgrowth or evidence of true faith, they are not the basis of salvation itself.

As recorded in the Evangelicon:

“And he said to the woman, Thy faith hath saved thee; go in peace.”
—Evangelicon 5:51

Marcion of Sinope, in his Homily to Diognetus, reflects on the inadequacy of human effort to earn divine favor. For Marcion, salvation is entirely the work of God, given freely to those who believe. Faith is the foundation, and from it, good works may follow—not as a requirement for salvation, but as its natural fruit.

Some Marcionites, such as Apelles, taught that ethical action must accompany faith in Christ. Rhodo’s account, preserved by Eusebius, reports Apelles insisting that “those who place their hope in the Crucified will be saved if they persist in good works.” Apelles likely knew of—and even canonized—the Epistle to Titus, whose repeated call to “maintain good works” (cf. Titus 3:8) would have anchored his conviction; Marcion himself appears never to have known this letter.

Rejecting the ritual demands of the Hebrew Bible and the speculative hairsplitting of contemporary theologians, Apelles viewed concrete deeds of charity and purity as the visible proof that faith is genuine. In practice, he urged believers to avoid doctrinal quarrels, devote themselves to mercy and self-denial, and allow the Spirit to shape daily conduct—treating good works not as legal obligations, but as the natural fruit of trusting the Crucified One.

This contrasts with Marcion’s own sola fide emphasis—salvation by faith apart from works—and it reveals real theological diversity within the early Marcionite movement. While Marcion championed the absolute sufficiency of faith for salvation, Apelles maintained that continuing in good works was integral to authentic discipleship.

The present position of the Marcionite Church of Christ affirms that good works are the consequence—the fruits—of true faith in Christ and never its justification; they are the sign of a sincere and grateful faith that has already received salvation.

The soteriology of Marcionite Christians, particularly as expressed in the Psalmicon, is deeply rooted in the doctrine of grace and conditional election. Salvation, in the Marcionite view, is entirely the work of God and not something earned or merited by human effort. However, this election is not arbitrary or unconditional—it is based on God’s foreknowledge of those who would respond in faith to His revelation through Christ.

Imputed righteousness teaches that the righteousness of Jesus is credited to believers through faith, meaning they are regarded by God as righteous not because of their own deeds, but because of Christ’s perfection. It is on the basis of this righteousness—not personal merit—that God the Father accepts and justifies the believer.

Yes. The ransom theory of atonement teaches that Jesus Christ offered his life to liberate humanity from bondage to sin, death, and the power of Satan. According to this view, the perfect life of Christ was given as a ransom in exchange for the lives of the sinful—freeing them from the dominion of evil. The theory holds that Satan, through the fall of man, had a kind of claim over sinful souls, which Christ’s sacrifice nullified.

This view often includes the notion that Jesus’ divinity was hidden beneath his human form, leading Satan to believe he could claim Jesus’ soul, only to find that Christ’s divine nature shattered his power and nullified his dominion.

Marcion of Sinope echoed this understanding when he declared, “We are the price of the blood of Jesus.” This statement reflects the redemptive truth that through Christ’s death, believers are purchased, saved, and set free.

Later theologians such as Irenaeus and Origen expanded upon Marcion’s insight, maintaining that Satan had a rightful claim over humanity until Christ’s atoning death broke that claim and secured our deliverance.

Marcion, following the eschatological teachings of the Apostle Paul, believed that a time of persecution and opposition awaited the faithful, led by a sinister figure Paul referred to as the “man of sin” or “son of perdition”:

“Let no man deceive you by any means: for that day shall not come, except there come a falling away first, and that man of sin be revealed, the son of perdition.”
2 Thessalonians 2:3

In the Psalmicon, this adversary appears in symbolic form, where the redeemer triumphs over a great and terrifying beast:

“He that overthrew by my hands the dragon with seven heads: and thou hast set me over his roots that I might destroy his seed.”
Psalmicon 20:5

Despite these references to evil and judgment, Marcion did not teach a visible return of Christ, nor was he consumed by apocalyptic fervor like many early Christians. His eschatology, much like that of Paul, centered on spiritual truths rather than literal, physical end-times scenarios. Paul makes this clear:

“Now this I say, brethren, that flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God; neither doth corruption inherit incorruption.”
1 Corinthians 15:50

Paul taught that the resurrection would not involve earthly, perishable bodies, but that the saved would receive spiritual bodies fit for the eternal kingdom. Marcion agreed with this view and rejected any notion of bodily resurrection.

Apelles, Marcion’s disciple, reaffirmed this interpretation. He taught that salvation was reserved for the soul alone, and that the physical body would not be raised. The soul, once redeemed, would ascend to heaven, freed from the corrupt and dying flesh.

Both Marcion and Apelles derived their views entirely from the Pauline epistles. Marcion’s soteriology, centered on the boundless grace of God, naturally extended into an eschatology in which all believers would be spiritually delivered and made incorruptible in the presence of the true God.

Yes. Marcion upheld the doctrine of perfect amillenarism, the belief that there would be no literal thousand-year reign of Christ on Earth. Instead, he taught that the reign of Christ was a present spiritual reality, not a future earthly event. Marcion believed in a general resurrection of the faithful but rejected any notion of bodily resurrection, affirming instead that only souls would rise to eternal life.

He was the first Christian to openly oppose premillennialism, the belief that Christ would return physically to Earth to inaugurate a temporal kingdom before the final judgment. For Marcion, such expectations contradicted the spiritual nature of Christ’s kingdom.

His amillennial position finds strong support in scripture. Jesus himself told the Pharisees that the coming of God’s kingdom would not be an observable event, but a spiritual reality already present among them:

“And when he was questioned by the Pharisees, when the kingdom of God cometh, he answered them and said, The kingdom of God cometh not with observation: Neither shall they say, Lo here! or, lo there! for, behold, the kingdom of God is within you.”
Evangelicon 15:36–37

The Apostle Paul also spoke of the kingdom of God not in material terms, but in moral and spiritual language:

“For the kingdom of God is not meat and drink; but righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost.”
Romans 12:17

Paul further affirmed that the new dispensation began with the resurrection of Christ, describing him as the firstborn from the dead:

“And he is the head of the body, the church: who is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead; that in all things he might have the preeminence.”
Colossians 1:18

Marcion believed that Christ now reigns from heaven, seated at the right hand of the Father, and that this reign is ongoing through the Church. According to this view, the gospel age is the present manifestation of Christ’s kingdom on earth. Good and evil continue to coexist in the world, including within the Church itself, as illustrated in the parable of the wheat and tares. Marcion understood the Church’s mission of proclaiming the gospel as the true and final expression of Christ’s reign.

Ironically, many later Catholic Church Fathers, such as Clement of Alexandria, Origen, Dionysius of Alexandria, and Eusebius of Caesarea, would come to share Marcion’s amillennial convictions. Even some of Marcion’s fiercest opponents, including Epiphanius of Salamis and Ephrem the Syrian, advocated for what might be described as an imperfect form of amillenarism, coming close to Marcion’s own teaching.

Yes. Marcionite Christians affirm the doctrine of annihilationism—the belief that all condemned souls, including fallen angels and Satan, will ultimately be destroyed and cease to exist rather than endure eternal conscious torment in Hell. This view stands in contrast both to the doctrine of eternal damnation and to universalism, which claims that all souls will eventually be saved.

Annihilationism is rooted in the principle of conditional immortality—the belief that the human soul is not inherently immortal but receives eternal life only as a gift from God. In this view, the wicked do not continue in endless suffering but are completely extinguished, their being consumed because of their incompatibility with God’s holiness and justice. God grants immortality only to those who receive it through faith and righteousness.

Marcion of Sinope alludes to this doctrine in his Epistle to the Magnesians, writing:

“For if He should imitate us according to our deeds, we are lost.”
Magnesians 8:2

This reflects the Marcionite understanding that judgment is real and deserved, yet not vindictive or eternal in nature—rather, it is final in its destruction.

The Apostle Paul supports this perspective as well, teaching that the end result of judgment upon the wicked is their utter destruction:

“Who shall be punished with everlasting destruction from the presence of the Lord, and from the glory of his power.”
2 Thessalonians 1:9

In this sense, annihilationism upholds both divine justice and divine mercy—judgment is executed, but not through endless torment.

Marcionites affirmed the Harrowing of Hell—an event also reported by Tertullian, Irenaeus, and Epiphanius—grounding the doctrine in Laodiceans 4:8–9 and Colossians 1:18. These verses teach that Christ first “descended into the lower parts of the earth” and then rose as “the firstborn from the dead.” Satan—not the Father—had enslaved humankind, and Jesus freely offered His own life as the ransom, for, as Marcion proclaims, “We are the price of the blood of Jesus.”

When Christ entered Hell, He broke its gates and emptied it of every human soul. This descent was essential in two respects: it redeemed all future believers—securing their freedom from Satan forever—and it rescued all the righteous dead who had already perished before His Advent, liberating them from darkness. Those who rejected Christ passed into non-existence, in line with Marcionite annihilationism. Marcion echoes the principle in the Epistle to the Magnesians: “For if He should imitate us according to our deeds, we are lost,” and the Apostle Paul concurs, warning of those “who shall be punished with everlasting destruction from the presence of the Lord, and from the glory of His power” (2 Thessalonians 1:9).

Since the Harrowing, Hell is merely the grim domain of Satan and his devils, creatures themselves destined to be vanquished when the Son’s victory is complete. The Psalmicon (134 C.E.) enshrines this triumph in song, praising Christ before whom “The abysses were dissolved before the Lord: and darkness was destroyed by His appearance” (Psalmicon 29:1) and who “made a congregation of living men amongst His dead men” (Psalmicon 40:19). These images assure every believer that no soul in Christ remains in darkness and that death itself has lost its sting.

Thus, the Harrowing secures Marcionite confidence in total liberation: Satan’s tyranny is broken, the wicked are gone, all past captives are freed, all future believers are safe, and creation now awaits the final expulsion of evil.

Marcionite Christians seek to restore the original and most authentic form of Christianity. In doing so, we adopt the Chi Rho as our principal symbol—a Christogram formed by overlaying the first two capital letters of the Greek word ΧΡΙΣΤΟΣ (Christos), chi (Χ) and rho (Ρ), so that the vertical stroke of the rho intersects the center of the chi. Unlike other Christian traditions, the Marcionite Chi Rho is never flanked by the Alpha and Omega symbols, as these are derived from the non-canonical Book of Revelation, which we do not recognize as scripture.

Our preference for the Chi Rho over the traditional cross distinguishes us from other Christian denominations and reflects historical accuracy. There is minimal evidence of the cross as a Christian symbol in the second century, and it is likely that early Christians avoided it due to its gruesome association with public execution. For the first three centuries of the Church, the cross played a relatively minor role in Christian iconography.

Nevertheless, we do not reject or forbid the use of the cross or crucifix. The only guideline for Marcionite Christian imagery is that it must be grounded in the scripture of the Testamentum. The Chi Rho remains our preferred symbol because it emphasizes the central truth of our faith—that the resurrection of Jesus is more essential than the manner of His death.

The womb is sacred, and the taking of innocent life within it is murder.

“Blessed is the womb that bare thee, and the breasts which thou didst suck.”
—Evangelicon 10:27

Marriage, also called the sacrament of Holy Matrimony, is a sacred union ordained solely between one man and one woman. The Marcionite Church of Christ firmly rejects and prohibits both same-sex marriage and all forms of polygamy.

“Marriage is honourable in all, and the bed undefiled: but whoremongers and adulterers God will judge.”
—Alexandrians 14:2

We do not permit or recognize divorce between properly baptized Christians. However, we uphold the Pauline privilege, which allows for the dissolution of a marriage between two individuals who were not validly baptized at the time of their union—meaning they had not received credobaptism by triple immersion, nor had they been sealed by Chrismation or Confirmation. Outside of this circumstance, divorce is regarded as a form of adultery and is strictly prohibited.

“And unto the married I command, yet not I, but the Lord, Let not the wife depart from her husband: But and if she depart, let her remain unmarried, or be reconciled to her husband: and let not the husband put away his wife. But to the rest speak I, not the Lord: If any brother hath a wife that believeth not, and she be pleased to dwell with him, let him not put her away. And the woman which hath an husband that believeth not, and if he be pleased to dwell with her, let her not leave him. For the unbelieving husband is sanctified by the wife, and the unbelieving wife is sanctified by the husband: else were your children unclean; but now are they holy. But if the unbelieving depart, let him depart. A brother or a sister is not under bondage in such cases: but God hath called us to peace.”
—1 Corinthians 7:10–15

Marcion of Sinope also drew a clear distinction between Christians and non-Christians on the matter of abortion. In his Homily to Diognetus, he wrote:

“They marry like all other men and they beget children; But they do not cast away their offspring.”
—Diognetus 5:8–9

The Testamentum was compiled and transcribed by Marcion of Sinope around 128 C.E., making it the first codified Christian biblical canon—predating the formation of the canonical Bible used by most mainline Christian denominations today by nearly three centuries.

According to scholar Wolfram Kinzig, Marcion referred to this collection as the Testamentum, the Latin term for “Testament.” Notably, the Testamentum was not divided into an “Old” and “New” Testament as seen in later biblical compilations. It was significantly shorter and more theologically focused.

The conceptual division between “Old” and “New” Testaments only emerged around 170 C.E., when Melito of Sardis introduced those terms—largely as a polemical response to Marcion’s teachings and his rejection of the Hebrew scriptures.

Marcion’s Testamentum was composed of two distinct sections: the Evangelicon—a purified gospel text representing the teachings of Jesus Christ as revealed to Paul—and the Apostolicon—the original ten epistles of the Apostle Paul. Marcion excluded the entire 46-book Hebrew Bible, as well as all other epistles and gospels that would later be included in the 27-book New Testament canon, which had not yet been formalized during his lifetime.

When the Testamentum was transcribed and canonized in 128 C.E., it contained only the Gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ—the revelation given directly by the risen Christ to the Apostle Paul, which he faithfully proclaimed throughout the known world.

As Paul himself warned:

“But though we, or an angel from heaven, preach any other gospel unto you than that which we have preached unto you, let him be accursed.
As we said before, so say I now again, If any man preach any other gospel unto you than that ye have received, let him be accursed.”
— Galatians 1:8–9

This exclusive adherence to Paul’s gospel formed the theological foundation of the Marcionite Church of Christ and its scriptural canon.

The gospels commonly accepted in modern biblical canons were written and published long after the Testamentum. Many were composed by unknown authors, lack divine inspiration, and hold no authoritative weight within Marcionite Christianity. At best, they offer limited historical insight; at worst, they serve to obscure the original Gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ. Increasingly, biblical scholars and theologians acknowledge that these texts are likely edited and expanded versions of the true gospel—crafted to manufacture a theological bridge between the Hebrew Bible and the message of Christ. The Apostle Paul warned the faithful against such distortions:

“I marvel that ye are so soon removed from him that called you into the grace of Christ unto another gospel…”
— Galatians 1:6

Irenaeus of Lyon, writing in direct opposition to Marcion, played a central role in the effort to establish an alternative canon. His reasoning for selecting exactly four gospels—because there are four winds or four directions of the compass—reveals the arbitrary nature of the process. Despite the abundance of gospel texts circulating in his time, Irenaeus dismissed most and canonized four, none of which can be conclusively tied to apostolic authorship. Except for the expanded version of Luke, all are anonymous.

These four gospels gained traction in Catholic circles primarily after the rise of Marcionite Christianity. Their common thread was the assertion that Jesus was the prophesied Messiah of Judaism—a theological claim that conveniently positioned Catholic Christianity as the heir to the Hebrew Bible. This doctrinal pivot became the foundation for constructing a “continuity” between Judaism and Christianity, something wholly absent from the teachings of Paul and from the Testamentum.

The justification for accepting these gospels and the associated epistles as scripture ultimately rests on apostolic tradition—not on direct apostolic authorship, nor on intrinsic spiritual authority. This appeal to tradition is a matter of faith—but faith in what, precisely? Not in the Gospel delivered by Christ to Paul, but in a human-constructed ecclesiastical lineage designed to marginalize that very Gospel.

The Marcionite canon uses a family of titles that all end in -icon. This short suffix may appear decorative, yet it carries a clear linguistic and historical logic that ties the whole Testamentum together. The choice to Latinise the original Greek –ikon also suits the fact that we are writing in English and therefore already employ the Latin alphabet.

In Greek, -ικόν (-ikon) is the neuter singular of an adjective that can stand on its own as a noun, “the book pertaining to…” Thus τὸ Εὐαγγελικόν (Evangelikon), “the Gospel book,” and τὸ Ἀποστολικόν (Apostolikon), literally “the Apostle book” (i.e., the collected letters of the Apostle Paul), provided early Christians with a ready template. When such titles passed into Latin manuscripts, the hard κ became c, turning –ikon into -icon. Because our complete collection bears the Latin title Testamentum, retaining the Latinised spelling for each booklet feels both historically faithful and visually cohesive.

Several of our titles—Evangelicon, Apostolicon, Litourgicon, and Homileticon—are already well attested in scholarly, heresiological, and liturgical literature. The remaining names are modern but strictly grammatical coinages, chosen not only for symmetry but to flag their distinctively Marcionite content:

Antilegicon, “the book of disputed writings,” rooted in the patristic term antilegomena / antilegomenon (“works spoken against”), gathers letters whose authority was historically contested.

Psalmicon designates “the psalm book,” arranging those hymns read in Marcionite worship.

Synaraxicon, literally “the book which brings together the epistles,” borrows the form of a traditional Synaxarion—typically a summary of martyrs’ and saints’ lives—but here it gathers only Marcion’s seven epistles composed before his own martyrdom, highlighting his witness rather than presenting a general hagiography.

Adopting unique, freshly coined titles where precedent is lacking is more than a stylistic flourish: it signals the canon’s distinct Marcionite theological composition while maintaining the uniform ‘-icon’ ending that marks every volume as part of one Testamentum. In this way, the set remains stylistically coherent, linguistically transparent, and unmistakably our own.

The influence and widespread circulation of the Marcionite Evangelicon, or Gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ, was so profound in the early centuries that the emerging Catholic Church felt compelled to preface its own gospel texts with explicitly anti-Marcionite introductions.

These introductory texts, known as the anti-Marcionite prologues, appear at the beginning of the Gospels of Mark, Luke, and John. It remains uncertain whether a similar prologue was ever composed for the Gospel of Matthew. The term anti-Marcionite prologues was coined by biblical scholar Donatien de Bruyne, who argued that their purpose was to counter the theological influence of Marcion and to reinforce the authority of the Catholic gospel tradition. Of these texts, only the prologue to the Gospel of John contains direct reference to Marcion of Sinope by name.

Although originally composed in Greek, the surviving prologues to Mark and John are preserved only in Latin manuscripts. The earliest complete manuscript containing all three extant prologues dates to the eighth century, though scholars believe they were initially circulated independently. Their composition is generally dated between the second and fourth centuries.

These prologues served to affirm the traditional church views on gospel authorship and to bolster ecclesiastical claims of continuity and orthodoxy in contrast to the Marcionite canon. Their existence highlights both the enduring popularity of Marcion’s gospel and the broader effort by Catholic authorities to define—and defend—their emerging scriptural canon.

The Marcionite Church of Christ regards all so-called “New Testament” writings not included in the Testamentum as apocryphal. These texts are not considered divinely inspired and are viewed as possessing, at best, limited historical, ethical, or theological value.

No. The Testamentum has remained unchanged since its original compilation. It has always consisted solely of the Gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ and the ten original Pauline Epistles: Galatians, 1st and 2nd Corinthians, Romans, 1st and 2nd Thessalonians, Laodiceans (commonly known as Ephesians), Colossians, Philippians, and Philemon. One gospel and ten authentic epistles—nothing more.

In stark contrast, the modern biblical canon contains four gospels and a total of 73 books, many of which were added gradually over several centuries and reflect significant theological developments absent from the earliest Christian tradition.

Yes. The Hebrew Bible—and the carnal, wrathful deity portrayed within it—is fundamentally antithetical to the teachings and message of Jesus Christ. This opposition is evident in both substance and spirit. The god of the Hebrew scriptures represents a tribal, nationalistic figure whose laws, values, and character stand in stark contrast to the God revealed through Jesus Christ in the Gospel of the Lord.

According to the Apostolic Council of Jerusalem in 48 C.E., God was revealed not through the Hebrew Bible, but through Jesus Christ Himself. The Hebrew scriptures reflect a distinct and alien religious system—rooted in legalism, violence, and ethnocentrism—utterly incompatible with the universal message of grace, love, and redemption found in the Testamentum.

Marcion of Sinope reaffirmed this truth with clarity. He rejected the authority of the Hebrew Bible altogether, regarding it as a false scripture devoid of divine inspiration. To Marcion, it consisted largely of contradictions, failed prophecies, and moral fables with only marginal historical or ethical value for Christians. He firmly denied that the Hebrew Bible held any religious significance following the advent of Christ.

In proclaiming a complete break from the Judaic tradition, Marcion became the first to declare Christianity a new and distinct faith—not a continuation or fulfillment of the Hebrew religion, but a radical departure from it. In this sense, Marcion is rightly seen as the originator of what may be called “New Testament Christianity.” His rejection of the Jewish epic and his refusal to frame Jesus as the prophesied Jewish Messiah directly challenged the emerging Catholic Church, which sought to position itself as the rightful heir to the Hebrew tradition.

Marcion taught that the messianic prophecies of the Hebrew Bible clearly pointed to an earthly political figure, not to a transcendent, spiritual redeemer. He maintained that Jesus Christ was not the Jewish Messiah but a divine emissary sent from the true God to reveal spiritual truth and offer salvation—entirely independent of Jewish expectation or law.

He also taught that the god of the Hebrew Bible was an inferior, violent, and morally compromised being—marked by jealousy, vengeance, and genocide—and utterly irreconcilable with the God of compassion and mercy revealed through Christ.

As Christ Himself declares:

“Think not that I am come to fulfil the law, or the prophets: I am not come to fulfil, but to destroy.”
— Evangelicon 14:16

No. The Marcionite Church firmly rejects allegorical interpretation of the Hebrew Bible. We do not believe that the commands, laws, and judgments issued by Yahweh contain hidden spiritual meanings pointing to Christ. Allegory is not a path to truth—it is a method of evasion, invented by the early Church to conceal the immorality of the false covenant and preserve allegiance to a god Christ came to renounce.

To allegorize is to deny what the text plainly says. When Yahweh commands genocide, the allegorist calls it spiritual warfare. When he sanctions slavery, they claim it symbolizes obedience. When he demands sacrifice, they insist it prefigures grace. But these are not spiritual mysteries—they are moral atrocities. Allegory transforms evil into metaphor and falsehood into doctrine.

This interpretive method enables eisegesis—reading one’s own ideas into the text—rather than exegesis, which draws meaning from the words themselves. Allegory replaces the literal and historical meaning with speculation, obscuring the text’s actual content. It blinds the reader to the fundamental nature of Yahweh and substitutes human imagination for divine clarity.

The Apostle Paul, as preserved in the Apostolicon, never allegorizes the Law—he condemns it. He calls it a yoke of bondage (Galatians 5:1), a ministration of death (2 Corinthians 3:7), and a system of condemnation. Paul does not reinterpret Moses—he exposes him as the servant of a deity alien to grace. The gospel does not complete the false covenant; it destroys it.

We read the Hebrew Bible literally, not to affirm it, but to expose it. We take Yahweh’s words seriously—and for that reason, we reject him. His cruelty requires no interpretation. It speaks for itself. We do not search for metaphors. We recognize the testimony of a false god.

Allegory does not merely mislead—it becomes a form of idolatry. It elevates human symbolism above divine truth and blinds the soul to the distinction between the just and the unjust, between the Father and the deceiver. Allegory was not born of faith, but of betrayal—a refusal to choose between Christ and Moses, between light and shadow, between the new and the false.

It left the Church a house divided—preaching grace while defending wrath, proclaiming freedom while submitting to the Law. This compromise distorted the gospel and corrupted the clarity of God’s revelation. Allegory became the mask of apostasy.

But the gospel of the Father, revealed by Jesus Christ, stands apart—pure, new, and free of riddles. It is not hidden in the shadows of the false covenant, nor buried in the laws of a lesser deity. It shines by its own light, needing no allegory to justify itself.

We do not put new wine into old bottles. We do not stitch together incompatible gods. We do not reclaim the Law—we renounce it.

The Marcionite Church affirms literal interpretation as essential to rightly dividing the word of truth—but only when applied to authentic, uncorrupted Scripture. We make a necessary distinction between the false scriptures of the Hebrew Bible and the true gospel found in the Testamentum, which includes the Evangelicon and Apostolicon.

We read the Hebrew Bible literally, not to redeem it, but to expose it. Its plain sense reveals a god of wrath, vengeance, and cruelty—a false deity unworthy of worship. When Yahweh commands slaughter, establishes slavery, or delights in sacrifice, we do not spiritualize those actions into metaphors. We take them at face value. And for that reason, we reject him.

Literal reading, rightly applied, reveals the moral failure of the False Covenant.

Many literalists argue that Scripture must be read at face value because it is divinely inspired. But this claim collapses when the source is false. The Hebrew Bible was not inspired by the Father of Jesus Christ, and no theory of inspiration can rescue it. Literalism, in this case, serves not to sanctify but to expose.

We agree with literalists who argue that the plain sense of the text preserves its clarity and protects against allegorical abuse. Allegory has long been used to twist evil into virtue, making genocide into spiritual warfare and blood sacrifice into hidden mercy. These distortions corrupted the early Church, which sought to preserve the Hebrew Bible by reading it through the lens of allegory rather than truth.

What is less understood, however, is that Marcion—recognized as a prominent Christian leader in Antioch before his break with Rome—helped establish the exegetical clarity that later came to define the Antiochene school. Long before Diodore of Tarsus or Theodore of Mopsuestia, Marcion had already applied the Antiochene principle of grammatical-historical interpretation—but with greater consistency. He did not merely reject allegory; he rejected the false scriptures that allegory was invented to defend.

The Marcionite Church affirms the true principle of rightly dividing the word of truth (2 Timothy 2:15). But we understand that this division is not merely about proper interpretation—it is about discerning between the word of the Father and the word of a false god. The gospel must not only be read plainly; it must be read purely. And that requires separating it from all that is foreign, false, and forged.

The Protestant Reformers, while reviving literal interpretation, were ultimately misguided. They rejected Catholic allegory but applied literalism indiscriminately—even to interpolated, corrupted, and spurious texts in what they called the “New Testament.” They read the Hebrew Bible literally and still tried to claim it as Christian scripture. Worse still, they failed to cleanse their canon of forged epistles, redactions, and anti-Pauline material.

Literalism is not a safeguard if the foundation is flawed. It only serves truth when the text itself is pure—free from scribal adulteration, theological interpolation, and false attribution. That is why the Marcionite Church recognizes only the Testamentum: the unadulterated gospel of Christ and the apostolic writings of Paul, rightly divided and preserved in their integrity.

We read the Hebrew Bible literally—to expose the false god who authored it.
We read the Testamentum literally—to receive the gospel of the true God, revealed by Christ.
We do not blend the two, and we do not put new wine into old bottles.

As the Lord declares in the Evangelicon, “No man putteth new wine into old bottles.”
We heed that word. The gospel of the Father cannot be poured into the skins of the Law.

Yes. In addition to the Marcionite Christians, numerous other pre-Nicene Christian movements rejected, either in part or in full, Yahweh—the god depicted in the Hebrew Bible—or the authority of the Hebrew scriptures themselves. These groups included the Cerdonians, Sethians, Cainites, Ophites, Valentinians, Basilideans, Carpocratians, and Elchasaites. Each developed distinct theological frameworks that sought to distance the God revealed through Jesus Christ from the deity of the Hebrew tradition.

Some, such as the Sethians and Cainites, identified Yahweh as an ignorant or even malevolent figure—commonly referred to as the Demiurge—who created the material world in error or defiance of the true, unknowable God. Others, like the Valentinians and Elchasaites, adopted more allegorical interpretations of the Hebrew scriptures or relegated them to a secondary or inferior status within their theological systems.

These movements, like the Marcionites, represent a substantial and often overlooked current within early Christianity—one that questioned and ultimately rejected the identification of the Father of Jesus Christ with the tribal deity of Israel. In doing so, they offered a radical spiritual alternative to what would later become the dominant Catholic orthodoxy, highlighting the diversity and theological contestation that characterized the formative centuries of the Christian faith.

Marcionite Christians held that the majority of the Hebrew Bible consisted of mythological narratives, failed prophecies, distorted historical accounts, and morally troubling episodes. They argued that these texts had been heavily interpolated and altered over time, in stark contrast to what they regarded as the pure and uncorrupted Gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ and the original letters of the Apostle Paul.

From the Marcionite perspective, while certain elements of the Hebrew scriptures may reflect historical events, such accounts are deemed irrelevant to the Christian faith and bear no direct connection to the divine. Moreover, although some ethical teachings can be found within the Hebrew texts, Marcionites noted that comparable moral principles are present in a wide array of ancient cultures, including Greek and Roman traditions—yet their existence alone does not confer divine inspiration.

Both Marcion and his disciple Apelles acknowledged that the Hebrew scriptures—and even the mythologies of surrounding pagan cultures—might occasionally preserve accurate accounts of supernatural events, particularly those involving angels, demons, Satan, or even the Holy Spirit. This view is consistent with the Marcionite doctrine of dispensationalism, which asserts that God the Father had remained hidden and uninvolved with humanity until His sudden and unexpected revelation in the person of Jesus Christ in 29 C.E.

Nonetheless, from a Marcionite standpoint, discerning which aspects of the Hebrew scriptures or ancient mythologies reflect genuine spiritual occurrences and which are fictitious or corrupted remains a challenge. As such, these texts are approached critically and are not regarded as divinely authoritative within the Marcionite tradition.

Jesus frequently taught through parables, allegories, and metaphors—methods intended to reveal spiritual truths in symbolic or illustrative form. In the Testamentum, any references to the Hebrew Bible are didactic in nature. A citation or allusion does not imply that the referenced text is divinely inspired; rather, it may simply serve as a familiar point of contact for the audience.

One can acknowledge that a text contains ethical or moral insights without attributing divine authority to it. In the rare instances where Jesus or the Apostle Paul reference the Hebrew scriptures, it is typically either to correct or challenge their claims, or to acknowledge limited truths within them.

Given that Jesus primarily preached to Jewish and Samaritan audiences, and that Paul addressed both Jews and Gentile proselytes familiar with Jewish teachings, the Hebrew Bible served as a useful rhetorical and pedagogical tool. By invoking scriptures familiar to his listeners, Jesus and Paul were able to communicate profound theological truths in a manner that resonated with their audience—without affirming the divine inspiration of the Hebrew texts themselves.

“And many lepers were in Israel in the time of Elisha the prophet; and none of them was cleansed, saving Naaman the Syrian.”
— Evangelicon 3:12

In this passage, Jesus allegorically references the story of Naaman the Syrian as a teaching tool—illustrating that divine grace and healing are not reserved for the religiously privileged or ethnically chosen, but extended even to those whom society deems unworthy. Naaman, a Gentile and the commander of the Aramean army that had warred against Israel, would have been viewed by the Jewish audience as both an outsider and an enemy. Yet, in the story, it is he—not an Israelite—who receives healing from leprosy.

Jesus invokes this account not to affirm the historical accuracy or divine inspiration of the Hebrew Bible, but to challenge the exclusivist mindset of His audience. His point was clear: God’s mercy is not bound by ethnic or religious boundaries.

At the time, Galilean Jews were living under Roman occupation, and the mere suggestion that God might favor Gentiles—especially over Jews—was met with intense hostility. This hostility is precisely what unfolds in Nazareth following Jesus’ remarks:

“And they in the synagogue, when they heard these things, were filled with wrath,
And rose up, and thrust him out of the city, and led him unto the brow of the hill whereon their city was built, that they might cast him down headlong.
But he passing through the midst of them went his way to Capernaum.”
— Evangelicon 2:13–15

Jesus’ reference to the story of Naaman was not an endorsement of the Hebrew Bible’s historical reliability. Rather, it was a rhetorical use of a familiar narrative to convey a deeper spiritual truth—that God’s grace often reaches those least expected, and that divine favor is not determined by ancestry or religious observance.

The Ten Commandments represent a basic moral framework that any orderly society might reasonably uphold, regardless of whether one believes they were divinely revealed to Moses on Mount Sinai. Their ethical content is not unique to the Hebrew Bible, nor does it require Mosaic origin to be valid or binding.

The essential moral teachings attributed to God are fully affirmed and restated within the Testamentum. One such passage appears in the writings of the Apostle Paul:

“For this, Thou shalt not commit adultery, Thou shalt not kill, Thou shalt not steal, Thou shalt not bear false witness, Thou shalt not covet; and if there be any other commandment, it is briefly comprehended in this saying, namely, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.”
— Romans 11:9

This verse captures the heart of Christian ethics, summarizing what is often called the “Golden Rule” or the “Great Commandment,” and forms the foundation of moral conduct in the Christian faith.

Marcionite Christians reject the authority of the 613 commandments found in the Hebrew Bible, the product of a false covenant given by a lesser, carnal deity. Most of these laws are ritualistic, nationalistic, or arbitrary—bearing little relevance to a life of spiritual righteousness. For the Marcionite believer, the teachings of Jesus Christ and the Gospel as entrusted to Paul are sufficient and complete, offering a liberating alternative to the burdensome and morally inconsistent demands of the false covenant.

No, Marcionite Christians do not identify Yahweh as a demiurge in the Gnostic sense. The concept of a demiurge—a flawed creator-being who fashions the material world—is rooted in Gnostic cosmology and does not align with Marcionite theology. Instead, Yahweh is regarded as a false god, comparable to other mythological deities fabricated throughout human history, such as Zeus or Thor.

Within the Marcionite tradition, views on Yahweh vary. Some hold that Yahweh, along with various pagan gods, may represent distinct demonic entities—names attributed to spiritual forces of deception. Others maintain that Yahweh is simply another name for Satan, the adversary who masquerades as divine but stands in opposition to the true God revealed by Jesus Christ.

Marcionite Christians recognized only one gospel as authentic and authoritative: the Gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ, also known as the Evangelicon. This was the earliest written gospel narrative and, according to Marcionite tradition, was authored by the Apostle Paul. Paul himself makes reference to this gospel in his epistles, affirming its central role in his apostolic mission.

The name Evangelicon derives from the Greek euangelion (“good news”) fused with the book-title ending -ikon, whose κ becomes c in Latin, yielding -icon and designating “the Gospel book.”

Importantly, Marcionite Christians never referred to this text as the “Gospel of Marcion”—a label introduced later by critics seeking to discredit Marcion by suggesting he forged or fabricated the gospel. If any figure can be rightly associated with its origin, it is Paul the Apostle. In that sense, the term “Gospel of Paul” may be a closer description, though it is not historically attested in Marcionite sources.

The Evangelicon shares structural and thematic similarities with the Gospel of Luke, while also containing verses paralleled in the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, and John. However, it notably excludes several key elements, such as Luke’s account of Jesus’ baptism and the Parable of the Prodigal Son. Like the Gospels of Mark and John, the Evangelicon omits any false birth story, in keeping with Marcionite doctrine, which rejects attempts to portray Jesus as fulfilling Jewish messianic expectations.

In Against Heresies, Irenaeus quotes what is commonly known today as the Prologue to the Gospel of John and uses it to criticize the alleged theological positions of Marcion and his followers. Scholar Adolf von Harnack suggested that this reference may simply indicate that Marcion was familiar with the Prologue, though not necessarily that he included it in his canon.

However, this line of reasoning can be just as effectively reversed. If Irenaeus is quoting the Prologue to John in his polemic against Marcionite Christians, it is reasonable to infer that Marcion or his followers were indeed using that text. After all, why would one refute a supposed heretic using scripture unless that scripture was known to be in use by the heretical party?

A similar pattern emerges in the writings of Tertullian. His repeated method of argumentation follows the formula: “The Gospel of Luke says X, but Marcion teaches Y,” or “Paul says X, yet the Marcionites assert Y.” These rhetorical constructions are not grounded in accurate textual representation of Marcionite scripture, but rather in deliberate contrasts meant to discredit Marcionite theology.

In fact, many of the theological claims attributed to Marcion and his church are not supported by the reconstructed texts of the Evangelicon or Apostolicon. The critiques offered by Irenaeus and Tertullian often amount to reductio ad absurdum—deliberate exaggerations designed to undermine Marcion’s credibility, not objective accounts of his teachings.

For these reasons, the reconstructed Evangelicon as preserved by the Marcionite Church of Christ opens with the Prologue to John as its first chapter—a declaration of the cosmic and spiritual nature of Christ that aligns fully with Marcionite theology.

It is also noteworthy that the Diatessaron—an early gospel harmony compiled by Tatian—likewise begins with the Prologue to John, lending additional historical support to the legitimacy of this structure.

No, the Evangelicon is not a gospel harmony. A gospel harmony is a literary effort to merge the four canonical gospels into a single, continuous narrative. The earliest known example of such a harmony is the Diatessaron, compiled by Tatian in the 2nd century.

In contrast, the Evangelicon is not a synthesis of preexisting gospel texts but rather the earliest written gospel narrative—predating and serving as a source for what later became the canonical gospels. Far from being derivative, it is the foundational gospel from which the synoptic and Johannine traditions drew and expanded.

While the Evangelicon closely parallels much of the content in the Gospel of Luke, it also includes material that aligns with passages now found in Matthew, Mark, and John—passages that are absent from Luke’s version. Conversely, many sections found in the canonical gospels are either missing, abbreviated, or theologically refined in the Evangelicon, indicating that the canonical gospels are later interpolations or doctrinally motivated expansions.

Patristic sources reflect this complex relationship. Tertullian accused Marcion of “cutting” or omitting parts of Luke. Ephrem, on the other hand, claimed Marcion included material not found in Luke. Origen offered yet another view, asserting that Marcion edited all the gospels—suggesting broader influence. These contradictory claims from early critics serve more as rhetorical attacks than objective textual analysis.

Thus, the Evangelicon is more accurately described as a “Super Gospel”—not a reduction or rearrangement of existing texts, but the earliest, original gospel proclamation of the Lord Jesus Christ as received and preached by the Apostle Paul.

Ultimately, the emergence of the canonical fourfold gospel was a theological and institutional response to the singular gospel of the Marcionite Christians. The multiplication of gospels under Catholic authority served to counterbalance the clarity and authority of the Evangelicon, which stood alone as the true witness to Christ.

The name Apostolicon derives from the Greek apostolos joined to the book-title suffix -ikon, whose κ becomes c in Latin, yielding -icon and marking it as “the Apostle book,” the collected letters of Paul.

The Apostolicon is the earliest collected edition of Paul’s letters. “Apostle” means “one who is sent,” and Paul, sent by the Lord Jesus to proclaim the Gospel to the nations, spoke of “filling up” the word of God once he completed his epistolary mission. Uniquely among early Christian writings, Paul’s own letters claim scriptural status.

Around 120 C.E. Marcion fully gathered these letters into a single corpus, the Apostolicon. A complete set reached Rome by 138 C.E., delivered by Marcion himself. The Apostolicon was joined to the Evangelicon in 128 C.E. forming the first Christian “Bible,” the Testamentum.

Marcion’s original collection comprised Galatians, 1 Corinthians, 2 Corinthians, Romans, 1 Thessalonians, 2 Thessalonians, Laodiceans (Ephesians), Colossians, Philippians, and Philemon, originally omitting the Pastoral Epistles and Alexandrians (Hebrews). Brief introductory notes—the Prologues to the Pauline Epistles—survive in several early Latin codices (e.g., Codex Fuldensis) and are widely attributed to Marcion’s circle, whereas alternative anti-Marcionite prologues appear before the canonical Gospels in other manuscripts.

A later Catholic tradition concedes that Marcion was a disciple of the Apostle John and supposedly delivered Paul’s letters to him—an apologetic legend meant to soften the awkward fact that the emerging Catholic Church depended on a “heretic” for its Pauline texts. Historian Joseph Turmel even noted that the Gospel of John echoes Marcionite themes, while the Johannine epistles avoid Hebrew Bible citations entirely.

Thus, the Apostolicon remains Marcion’s enduring contribution: the first fixed collection of Paul’s writings and a cornerstone of the earliest Christian canon.

The estimated dates for the composition of the Apostle Paul’s epistles are as follows:

• Galatians – 48 C.E.

• First Corinthians – 50 C.E.

• Second Corinthians – 51 C.E.

• Romans – 52 C.E.

• First Thessalonians – 53 C.E.

• Second Thessalonians – 54 C.E.

• Laodiceans (commonly identified as Ephesians) – 55 C.E.

• Colossians – 56 C.E.

• Philippians – 57 C.E.

• Philemon – 57 C.E.

• Alexandrians (also known as Hebrews) – 63 C.E.

• First Timothy – 63 C.E.

• Second Timothy – 64 C.E.

• Titus – 66 C.E.

The Marcionite Church of Christ affirms that if any lost epistles of the Apostle Paul are one day discovered and can be verified as authentic, they should rightly be included in the Apostolicon, the authoritative collection of Pauline writings.

Potential candidates for such inclusion may include a previously written, or “zeroth,” epistle to the Corinthians, likely referenced in 1 Corinthians 5:9, a third epistle to the Corinthians—commonly referred to as the “Severe Letter”—believed to have been written between 1 and 2 Corinthians, and referenced in 2 Corinthians 2:4 and 2 Corinthians 7:8–9, and an earlier epistle to the Laodiceans, potentially referenced in Laodiceans 3:3–4, distinct from the letter preserved in the current Apostolicon.

Furthermore, should any epistles currently regarded as pseudepigraphal later be proven authentic through textual or historical analysis—or should early, unaltered manuscript forms of such letters be recovered—the Marcionite Church of Christ would consider their inclusion in the Apostolicon upon verification of their Pauline origin and doctrinal consistency with the Testamentum.

The Prologues to the Pauline Epistles—brief introductory statements akin to those found in modern Bible study guides—are not part of the biblical text itself, but have traditionally been so named because they are widely believed to have originated within Marcionite Christian circles. These prologues appear in several manuscripts of the Latin Vulgate, most notably in the Codex Fuldensis.

Contemporary scholarship generally acknowledges a Marcionite origin for these prologues, attributing their presence in the Latin tradition to the activity of Marcion or Marcionite Christian teachers in Rome during the second century, who are believed to have translated the Greek epistles of Paul into Latin for use in their communities.

In contrast, several early Latin codices preserve Anti-Marcionite Prologues to the Gospels, which appear to have been composed as direct responses to Marcionite teachings and to assert a rival interpretive framework within the emerging Catholic tradition.

According to the Muratorian Fragment, the Testamentum included two additional Pauline epistles: the Epistle to the Laodiceans and the Epistle to the Alexandrians.

Ancient sources such as Hippolytus of Rome, and later scholars including Fenton John Anthony Hort, have equated the Epistle to the Laodiceans with what is now known as the Epistle to the Ephesians. This identification is supported by the observation that early manuscripts of Ephesians lacked the phrase “in Ephesus” (Ephesians 1:1), and because Ephesians is the only non-Pastoral Pauline letter absent from the canonical Testamentum, suggesting that it was originally circulated under the title Laodiceans. Tertullian confirms this identification when he notes that Marcion’s Apostolicon included Ephesians under the name Laodiceans.

As for the Epistle to the Alexandrians, many scholars—including Moses Stuart—have identified it with the Epistle to the Hebrews. Hebrews is conspicuously absent from the Muratorian Fragment and is the only general (non-personal) Pauline epistle omitted from that listing. Clement of Alexandria observed that the letter was likely written anonymously due to Paul’s contentious reputation among Jewish and Jewish-Christian communities. This anonymity would have helped ensure broader acceptance among Jewish believers, especially in Alexandria—the second-largest Jewish city in the ancient world after Jerusalem.

Alexandria was also home to an early Jewish-Christian community and the Leontopolis temple, which some scholars believe is alluded to in Hebrews more accurately than the Jerusalem temple. It is plausible that the letter, originally addressed to the Alexandrian community, later became a circulating epistle whose destination was forgotten or intentionally omitted, eventually taking on the more inclusive title Epistle to the Hebrews as it spread among Jewish-Christian communities across the Eastern Mediterranean.

The opening greetings of the Epistle to the Alexandrians have been reconstructed using material from the 16th chapter of Romans. Several scholars, including Richard Longenecker, have argued that Romans 16 likely originated as the opening to a separate letter, which was mistakenly appended to the end of Romans in the manuscript tradition.

Supporting this theory is the placement of Hebrews immediately after Romans in many early manuscripts, suggesting that a scribal or editorial error may have caused the original opening of Hebrews to be attached to the conclusion of Romans. The final greeting in Hebrews (or Alexandrians) indicates it was written from Rome, and Romans 16 contains greetings from numerous Roman Christians—implying that Paul was already in the city at the time of writing.

Of particular note is the presence of Philologus of Sinope in the closing salutations:

“Salute Philologus, and Julia, Nereus, and his sister, and Olympas, and all the saints which are with them.”
— Alexandrians 1:15

Philologus, a member of the Seventy Disciples, was the father of Marcion of Sinope, thus further strengthening the connection between Paul’s Roman correspondence and Marcionite tradition.

Many scholars support the theory that the original Epistle to the Romans existed in a 14- or 15-chapter form, excluding chapter 16 entirely. This aligns with the Marcionite version of Romans, which omits chapter 16—further evidence that the final chapter was originally associated with another Pauline letter, likely Alexandrians (Hebrews).

Finally, the prologue to the Epistle to the Alexandrians has been reconstructed using a previously unused Latin prologue associated with the Epistle to the Ephesians, suggesting a shared transmission history or theological linkage between the texts.

The Antilegicon refers to those epistles attributed to the Apostle Paul whose authenticity or authority has been historically disputed. Within the Marcionite Church of Christ, this category includes the Epistle to the Alexandrians (commonly known as Hebrews) and the three Pastoral Epistles: 1 Timothy, 2 Timothy, and Titus. If genuinely authored by Paul, these letters represent some of his final writings, composed shortly before his death.

The name Antilegicon derives from the Greek term antilegomena (“things spoken against”) fused with the book-title ending -ikon, whose κ (kappa) shifts to c in Latin, yielding -icon and thus signifying “the book of disputed writings.”

These texts were not included in Marcion’s original compilation of the Apostolicon, the authoritative Pauline canon assembled in the early second century. As such, the Marcionite Church of Christ classifies them as deuterocanonical—a secondary tier of Pauline writings distinct from, and subordinate to, the Evangelicon and Apostolicon. While not viewed as equal in authority, these epistles are nonetheless considered valuable for theological reflection, historical study, and, on occasion, liturgical use.

Should these texts be definitively verified as authentic Pauline works—through either the recovery of early, non-interpolated manuscripts or compelling historical evidence—the Marcionite Church of Christ would consider formally including them in the Apostolicon proper.

The versions of these epistles preserved within the Antilegicon are abbreviated compared to the longer, heavily redacted versions found in the mainstream New Testament. The Marcionite Church has reconstructed these shorter texts using citations, allusions, and attestations primarily from Clement of Alexandria (ca. 200 C.E.), as well as other early second-century patristic witnesses such as Hermas, Tatian, Theophilus, and Athenagoras. These sources were instrumental in restoring the texts closer to their original form, prior to the interpolations added by later Catholic redactors.

It is widely acknowledged that the Pastoral Epistles were among the most heavily edited to reflect the emerging ecclesiology and orthodoxy of the institutional Church. Anti-Marcionite themes are particularly evident in these later interpolations.

Following the death of Marcion of Sinope, Marcionite Christians began to regard these texts with increasing interest. It is believed that Marcion’s disciple, Apelles—who resided in Alexandria—may have continued the work of collecting and transcribing Pauline letters. Notably, Apelles is associated with theological language resembling phrases found in the Epistle to Titus. A Latin prologue to Titus, possibly authored by Apelles, states:

“He warns and instructs Titus concerning the constitution of the presbytery and concerning spiritual conversation and heretics to be avoided who believe in the Jewish fables.”

This phrasing aligns with Apelles’ known theological position, particularly his rejection of the Hebrew Bible as a collection of “fables” and “failed prophecies.” Just as Marcion prefaced his collected epistles with prologues, Apelles may have authored similar introductions for these later Pauline letters.

Tertullian himself expressed surprise that the Pastoral Epistles were not included in Marcion’s Apostolicon, likely because he recognized thematic similarities between these epistles and Paul’s undisputed letters. The existence of Marcionite-style prologues for the Pastorals supports the idea that the collection and prefacing of Pauline letters continued within Marcionite circles after Marcion’s death.

Patristic sources confirm the gradual expansion of the Marcionite Pauline canon. Ephrem the Syrian references Marcionites using 1 Timothy—a notable fact, as 1 Timothy is the only epistle that directly quotes the Evangelicon. Likewise, in his homilies against the Marcionites, John Chrysostom critiques their use of 2 Timothy, further evidence that these epistles gained authority within the Marcionite tradition over time.

The question remains: Why did Marcion exclude these texts from his original Apostolicon? Was it an act of rejection, or simply a lack of access?

There are several plausible explanations. The Pastoral Epistles were personal letters rather than letters to entire congregations and may not have circulated as widely, making them less accessible to Marcion during the compilation process. The Epistle to the Alexandrians (Hebrews) may have been initially composed in a Semitic language—such as Hebrew or Aramaic—which Marcion may not have been able to read. Clement of Alexandria suggested that Hebrews was only translated into Greek at a later time. Like Paul, Marcion focused his mission on the Gentiles and would have had limited interaction with Jewish-Christian communities where the Alexandrians circulated.

Some scholars also propose that Paul used an amanuensis, or secretary, when composing these disputed letters. Notably, Alexandrians references being dictated by Paul to Tertius the Deacon while in prison, which could explain stylistic and theological differences from Paul’s earlier works.

Taken together, these factors help explain the differences between the Antilegicon epistles and the undisputed letters of the Apostolicon. They also support the idea that the exclusion of these texts from Marcion’s original canon was circumstantial rather than doctrinal.

By the time of Tertullian, around 200 C.E., the Catholic Church had not yet established a formal canon of scripture. Unlike the Marcionite Church, which had maintained a clearly defined canon—the Testamentum, consisting of one gospel and ten Pauline epistles—since the early second century, the Catholic tradition remained without an officially recognized collection of sacred texts.

This began to change with the convening of the First Council of Nicaea in 325 C.E. Comprised of over 300 bishops from across the Roman Empire, the council was summoned by Emperor Constantine, who sought to suppress internal theological divisions and forge a unified state religion under imperial authority. Constantine, a former devotee of the Roman sun god Sol Invictus, had little understanding of Christian theology; his chief concern was maintaining civil order and imperial cohesion.

Notably, leaders of the Marcionite Church—then a widespread and influential movement—were either excluded from the council or chose not to participate. Under Constantine’s direction, significant editorial changes to Christian scripture began to take shape. The Hebrew Bible was ordered to be incorporated into the Christian canon, while the Evangelicon—the gospel used by Marcionite Christians—was removed and replaced with four gospels of uncertain and disputed origin.

By 331 C.E., six years after the Council of Nicaea adjourned, Constantine commissioned the production of fifty official copies of the revised Christian Bible. Historical evidence suggests these editions included the Hebrew scriptures and newly adopted gospels, marking a decisive shift in the character and content of the imperial church’s canon.

In 332 C.E., Constantine issued the Edict Against the Heretics, mandating the confiscation of all Marcionite churches and places of worship. These properties were forcibly transferred to the Catholic Church, solidifying the state-backed suppression of the Marcionite faith.

The formal codification of the Catholic canon occurred decades later, at the Council of Rome in 382 C.E. This council finalized the inclusion of 46 books from the Hebrew Bible—including several Deuterocanonical texts not even recognized within Judaism—and 27 books in the New Testament, culminating in a 73-book canon featuring four distinct gospels.

This canon was reaffirmed at the Synod of Hippo in 393 C.E., further entrenching the structure of the Catholic Bible.

By contrast, the Marcionite Church had upheld a stable and concise canon—consisting of one gospel and ten epistles—for over three centuries by that point, resisting additions, redactions, and theological syncretism. Its scriptural integrity stood in stark contrast to the evolving and politically influenced canon of the emerging Catholic Church.

The Marcionite versions of the Pauline Epistles were markedly shorter than the expanded forms found in later canonical Bibles. However, a growing body of scholarly research has concluded that the Marcionite texts more accurately reflect the original writings of the Apostle Paul. In contrast, the conventional versions appear to have undergone substantial expansion through interpolations—additions that introduced later theological constructs foreign to Paul’s original message.

Among the doctrines absent in the Marcionite corpus but present in the later canonical versions are teachings concerning misogyny, legalism, the doctrine of original sin, deterministic predestination (which implies divine causation of sin), anti-Semitic rhetoric, eternal damnation, and polemics against pagan cultures. Marcion, by contrast, preached a message of salvation through faith alone, unburdened by the legalistic framework later embraced by the Catholic Church.

In the Roman literary world, it was not uncommon for scribes or disciples to write in the name of revered figures from the past. While such practices would today be classified as forgery, they were then regarded as acts of humility and homage. This cultural reverence for tradition often led writers to frame new theological or philosophical ideas under the authority of an established name to lend credibility and acceptance.

One particular method used to alter texts was interpolation—the insertion of new material into an existing work. A scribe might pause while copying a manuscript, insert a passage of their own composition, and then resume transcription. This method was not unusual and is observable in the surviving works of authors such as Josephus and Homer. Yet, despite its prevalence in antiquity, the possibility that such interpolations also affected the biblical text is rarely confronted with due seriousness.

These insertions reflect a broader process of literary accretion—where texts, once considered complete, are gradually expanded over time. This process not only altered individual passages but also contributed to the growth of the scriptural canon itself. As more writings were appended to the original corpus, the theological character of the tradition shifted accordingly.

As a general rule, the most authentic and original form of any ancient text subject to accretion is likely to be the shortest version. In this light, the brevity and theological clarity of the Marcionite epistles may point not to deficiency, but to fidelity to the apostolic source.

The original manuscripts of the Marcionite canon have not survived physically into modern times. Following the consolidation of Catholic political power in the fourth century, religious authorities systematically destroyed all known copies of Marcionite scriptures. However, the canon of the Marcionite Church can be meaningfully reconstructed through extensive references found within patristic sources. Several early Christian authors—particularly Tertullian in his five-volume Adversus Marcionem, Epiphanius in the Panarion, and Adamantius in De recta in Deum fide—quoted extensively from Marcionite scriptures and provided detailed comparisons between the Testamentum and texts that later became part of the Catholic canon. These authors frequently engaged in theological critiques of Marcionite texts, thereby preserving significant portions of them within their criticisms.

By analyzing these quotations and descriptions, scholars have successfully reconstructed substantial segments of Marcionite scriptures. While not every verse is directly attested, ancient critics focused their attention primarily on passages that diverged theologically from texts later adopted by the Catholic Church. In instances where no direct commentary or quotations exist, it is reasonable to assume that the Marcionite version closely matched, or was identical to, the corresponding conventional text. Thus, standard biblical texts often serve as reliable proxies for these uncontroversial passages.

This reconstruction adheres to a maximalist methodology, particularly for the Evangelicon and Apostolicon, favoring a comprehensive approach aimed at restoring the complete form and narrative continuity of the original Marcionite canon. The absence of mention by patristic authors such as Tertullian or Epiphanius is not considered evidence of nonexistence. Conversely, speculative interpolations are excluded unless supported by primary evidence or indicated by manuscript variations suggesting textual evolution. Hypothetical interpolations are accepted only when grounded in verifiable ancient textual divergences. Unsupported conjectures are entirely excluded.

In reconstructing the Evangelicon, attested verses absent from the Gospel of Luke are included only if they lack a parallel in Luke. The full pericope containing such verses is preserved for narrative coherence and inserted at the most contextually suitable location. When a verse noted by ancient sources as having been excised from the Evangelicon is present in Luke, the verse itself is excluded, but the remainder of the pericope is retained. If an attested variant verse not from Luke exists, only that verse is included. The fullest available version of any pericope is utilized to maintain narrative continuity and clarity.

The Pericope Adulterae, traditionally located in John 7:53–8:11, is included in this reconstruction due to its presence in several ancient manuscripts of Luke and its stylistic similarity to Lukan composition.

Material attested from the Gospel of Apelles, the gospel utilized by Marcion’s disciple Apelles, is also incorporated where relevant, reflecting the belief that Apelles continued to preserve and transmit elements of the Testamentum.

The identification of gospel parallels and pericopes primarily follows the scholarly works of Kurt Aland (Synopsis Quattuor Evangeliorum, 1985) and Lorin L. Cranford (A Study Manual of the New Testament, 1981).

In contrast, the reconstruction of the Antilegicon—those Pauline writings whose authenticity was historically disputed—adopts a minimalist approach. Only verses directly cited, alluded to, or referenced by early patristic writers, particularly those before the Council of Nicaea in 325 C.E., are included. Clement of Alexandria serves as the primary source, supplemented by catenae and references from other second-century authors. Exceptions are limited to verses cited in the Marcionite prologues or essential for textual continuity.

The English translation of the Testamentum is based on the King James Version, chosen for its formal equivalence, literary elegance, and compatibility with prior reconstruction efforts.

The Evangelicon version employed in this project draws from James Hamlyn Hill’s 1891 edition, itself based on August Hahn’s 1823 reconstruction. Further revisions have incorporated the scholarship of Daniel Jon Mahar, David Inglis, Stephan Huller, Gustav Volkmar (Das Evangelium Marcions, 1852), Theodor Zahn (Geschichte des n.t. Kanons, 1888), Charles B. Waite (History of the Christian Religion to the Year A.D. 200, 1881), and André Wautier (Comment Naquit Le Christianisme, 1980).

Reconstructions of the Pauline Epistles in the Apostolicon principally rely on David Inglis’s scholarship, integrating material from W. C. van Manen (Marcions Brief van Paulus aan de Galatiers, 1887), Adolf von Harnack (History of Dogma, 1894), Paul-Louis Couchoud (La Première Edition de St Paul, 1928), and Jason BeDuhn (The First New Testament: Marcion’s Scriptural Canon, 2013).

The Antilegicon texts predominantly draw from Maegan C.M. Gilliland’s work (Text of the Pauline Epistles and Hebrews in Clement of Alexandria, 2016), with supplementary reference to Philip Schaff (Ante-Nicene Fathers, 1885).

The Psalmicon reconstruction utilizes James H. Charlesworth’s translation (The Earliest Christian Hymnbook: The Odes of Solomon, 2009).

Liturgical rites compiled in the Litourgicon, including the Divine Liturgy, are based on translations by James Donaldson (Ante-Nicene Fathers, 1886).

Translations of the Homileticon and Synaxicon rely upon J.B. Lightfoot’s Apostolic Fathers (1891).

The reconstruction of Marcion’s epistles within the Synaxicon, along with the identification of Johannine parallels included in the Evangelicon, draws from Roger Parvus’ research (A New Look at the Letters of Ignatius of Antioch and Other Apellean Writings, 2008).

Overall, this reconstruction embodies a commitment to historical accuracy, theological coherence, and textual integrity, utilizing surviving historical evidence to restore the Marcionite canon in its most authentic and defensible form.

The Marcionite Church of Christ affirms the use of English translations that adhere to the principle of formal equivalency. For the reconstruction of the Testamentum, the King James Version was selected as the translation base.

A formal equivalency, or literal, translation seeks to remain as faithful as possible to the original language of the text, minimizing interpretive influence from the translator. This approach emphasizes a word-for-word rendering rather than a thought-for-thought paraphrase. The underlying rationale is that the more literal the translation, the less risk there is of distorting or altering the intended meaning of the original message.

The Psalmicon is a Marcionite Christian collection of forty psalms, reconstructed from historical references and early church writings. Dating to around 134 C.E., it is considered the earliest Christian hymnbook.

Psalmicon derives from the Greek psalmos (“song of praise”) fused with the book-title ending -ikon, whose κ (kappa) becomes c in Latin, yielding -icon and signifying “the psalm book.”

The Muratorian Fragment refers to a rejected collection of psalms associated with Marcion, and Maruthas of Martyropolis likewise records: “…instead of the Psalms they [the Marcionites] have made themselves hymns for their services.” These psalms are believed by many scholars to be the original form of what later came to be known as the Odes of Solomon. Initially composed in Greek—possibly by Marcion or his disciples—these hymns were later expanded and interpolated as their popularity grew, much like the Evangelicon’s transformation into the canonical Gospel of Luke. The psalms were also reportedly used by early Gnostic sects such as the Valentinians.

Some scholars suggest these hymns were composed by a disciple of the Apostle John, a description that fits Marcion of Sinope. Furthermore, Catholic Church Fathers such as Tertullian, Irenaeus, and Epiphanius all attest that Marcion taught the Harrowing of Hell—the descent of Christ into Hades following his crucifixion. While this episode is absent from the Evangelicon, it is referenced both directly and allegorically in multiple psalms within the Psalmicon.

When these psalms were later translated into Latin by Lactantius, it appears a new psalm was inserted promoting the Virgin Birth. Later Syriac translations altered the tone further to align with developing Catholic orthodoxy. Eventually, the hymns were renamed the Odes of Solomon in an effort to link them to the Hebrew Bible. Originally, these works were referred to as psalmoi idiotikoi, meaning “private psalms” or psalms outside the canon—not viewed as divinely inspired scripture, but rather personal and devotional in nature. Many may have originated as baptismal hymns.

Tertullian describes a Marcionite custom of offering a mixture of milk and honey to the newly baptized—a tradition echoed in one of the psalms, which directly references this post-baptismal offering.

At the Council of Laodicea in 360 C.E., it was formally ruled that no psalms composed by uninspired men were to be used in church services, effectively excluding these works from Catholic liturgy.

The Marcionite Church of Christ does not claim divine inspiration for the Psalmicon, but recognizes its profound spiritual and liturgical value. Our reconstruction of the Psalmicon is based on the scholarly work of James H. Charlesworth.

“Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly in all wisdom; teaching and admonishing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with grace in your hearts to the Lord.”
Colossians 3:16

Litourgicon comes from the Greek leitourgía (“public worship, liturgy”) combined with the book-title ending -ikon, whose κ (kappa) becomes c in Latin, yielding -icon and identifying it as “the liturgy book.”

The Litourgicon is the reconstructed Marcionite Christian liturgical manual, derived from historical sources, early eyewitness testimonies, theological writings, and the scriptural teachings of the Apostle Paul. It is intended for use by the faithful alongside the Testamentum, offering clear guidance on how to celebrate the Divine Liturgy—especially in times of persecution or hardship, just as the earliest Christians once did in secret and simplicity.

Beyond the Divine Liturgy itself, the Litourgicon also provides detailed instructions for administering the Holy Sacraments. These practices are based on the oldest known Christian liturgical traditions, particularly those preserved in the Apostolic Constitutions, and reflect the order and reverence of the primitive Church.

The name Synaxicon comes from Greek synaxis (“gathering, assembly”) joined to the book-title ending -ikon, whose κ (kappa) becomes c in Latin, yielding -icon and meaning “the book that gathers together.” Marutha of Martyropolis records that Marcionites possessed a book called the Saka—Syriac for “Sum,” “Summary,” or “End”—and its Greek equivalent would indeed be the Synaxicon, typically a compendium of the lives of saints and martyrs.

Numerous scholars and theologians—including Hermann Detering, Joseph Turmel, Alfred Loisy, and Roger Parvus—have argued that the seven epistles attributed to Ignatius of Antioch were originally composed within a Marcionite Christian context. The Marcionite Church of Christ builds upon this scholarly hypothesis and holds that these epistles were authored by Marcion of Sinope himself shortly before his martyrdom in Rome in 154 C.E. These letters were compiled into a single codex, referred to in Syriac as the Saka and in Greek as the Synaxicon, and were later added to the broader Marcionite canon after Marcion’s death.

Following his excommunication from the Roman Church, Marcion returned to the East, where he continued leading congregations throughout Anatolia and Syria. Each of the epistles is addressed to churches within Anatolia, Marcion’s native region. The author of the epistles refers to himself as the bishop of Syria, based in Antioch. Marcion assumed this episcopal role in Antioch after failing to become bishop of Rome. Antioch was a major center of early Pauline Christianity and is where followers of Jesus were first called “Christians.” These epistles also contain the earliest written usage of the term “Christianity.”

Strikingly, extant lists of bishops of Antioch reveal vacancies and overlapping dates between the 140s and 160s, aligning precisely with the period during which Marcion could have occupied this position. Antioch, like Rome, maintained an episcopal lineage that claimed apostolic succession through Paul the Apostle. Additionally, patristic sources describe Syria as a stronghold of Marcionite Christianity, and archaeological evidence—such as the discovery of a Marcionite church in the region—corroborates this assessment.

The epistles in question frequently quote or allude to the Odes of Solomon, originally Marcionite hymns now preserved in the Psalmicon. Irenaeus recorded that Marcion encountered his rival Polycarp in Rome around 154 C.E., during which Polycarp famously denounced him as “the firstborn of Satan.” Polycarp is independently known to have visited Rome in 155 C.E. to discuss the Easter controversy with Bishop Anicetus, suggesting that this confrontation likely occurred as Marcion returned to Rome for what would be his final days.

The notion that the author of the epistles was transported to Rome for execution is unusual, as local punishment was more common. However, Marcion’s situation was unique: having caused considerable division within the Roman Church, it would have been fitting for Roman authorities to summon him back to the city where his controversy had originated.

This theory also explains the conspicuous absence of any mention of a bishop of Rome in the epistle addressed to the Roman congregation—consistent with the fact that no Marcionite bishop presided over the Roman community at that time. The epistles focus primarily on ecclesiastical concerns, which aligns with the context of Marcion attempting to secure succession and doctrinal continuity for his churches in anticipation of his martyrdom.

The episcopal structure outlined in these letters mirrors the succession model described by Adamantius for the Marcionite bishops. The presence of multiple versions and redactions of the epistles suggests that they were heavily interpolated. According to historian William Dool Killen, Pope Callixtus I reworked these epistles around 220 C.E., readdressing and expanding them to promote the authority of the monarchical episcopate. In doing so, he reattributed the letters from Marcion to the more obscure martyr Ignatius of Antioch.

Callixtus altered the identifying title “Nauclerus” (meaning shipmaster), commonly used for Marcion due to his occupation and sea voyage to Rome, to “Theophorus,” meaning “God-bearer.” Like Marcion, the newly imagined Ignatius was said to be a disciple of the Apostle John and a follower of the Apostle Paul, having been ordained as the first Bishop of Antioch by Paul.

This reattribution also forced the date of composition back to 108 C.E., a claim based solely on the account of Eusebius of Caesarea in the fourth century. Scholars such as Richard Pervo suggest that Eusebius had a vested interest in creating the appearance of an early and continuous succession of orthodox leaders from the Apostolic age.

Paul Foster and other modern scholars place the writing of the epistles closer to the early 150s C.E., with 154 C.E.—the year R. Joseph Hoffmann argues Marcion died—being a more plausible composition date. This timing is reinforced by internal evidence suggesting the epistles engage with ideas from Ptolemy the Gnostic, an adversary of the Marcionites who became active only in the 150s.

Callixtus also reassigned one epistle originally addressed to a Marcionite bishop in Smyrna—Metrodorus—to Polycarp of Smyrna. Ironically, both Metrodorus and Polycarp were later martyred together in 156 C.E., despite representing rival Christian communities.

The epistles exhibit stylistic similarities with Pauline letters, contain numerous anti-Judaic themes, and include what is likely the earliest argument for observing the Lord’s Day on Sunday instead of the Jewish Sabbath—an innovation widely attributed to Marcionite communities.

While the Marcionite Church of Christ does not regard these epistles as divinely inspired scripture, they are honored as valuable patristic texts. They offer insight into theology, liturgy, church governance, and the historical development of the Marcionite tradition.

The Homileticon of the Marcionite Church of Christ includes a ten-chapter Homily to Diognetus, preserved as part of a broader collection of Marcionite sermons, to be expanded as additional homiletic texts are recovered. While not considered part of the canon of scripture, the Homily to Diognetus is embraced as a traditional theological work that offers significant apologetic and liturgical insight from the Marcionite Christian perspective.

Homileticon derives from the Greek homilía (“sermon, discourse”) fused with the book-title ending -ikon, whose κ (kappa) becomes c in Latin, yielding -icon and signifying “the sermon book.”

Widely regarded in modern scholarship as a gem of early Christian apologetics, the so-called Epistle to Diognetus is particularly notable for its fifth chapter, which provides a compelling and heartfelt portrait of early Christian life. However, much remains uncertain regarding its exact origin, authorship, and date of composition. Many scholars date the text to approximately 130 C.E., making it the earliest known example of Christian apologetic literature.

It has been argued by numerous scholars—including Christian Charles Josias von Bunsen and Ernesto Buonaiuti—that the Epistle to Diognetus was originally authored by Marcion of Sinope or by one of his close disciples, such as Apelles. The theological content of the text is deeply Pauline and Marcionite in tone. It notably lacks any reference to the Hebrew Bible and is grounded entirely in the theology of divine grace, faith, and the rejection of Jewish ritual and legalism.

This interpretation is further strengthened by the scholarly consensus that the final two chapters of the received text represent later interpolations. These chapters diverge significantly in both literary style and theological emphasis, reflecting trends that align more closely with post-Marcionite orthodoxy. Their addition appears to have been intended to bring the original work into greater conformity with the evolving doctrinal mainstream.

Tertullian, one of Marcion’s most vocal critics, records that prior to his excommunication from the Roman Church, Marcion authored a letter that was widely praised—even by Catholic leaders. The Marcionite Church of Christ holds that this referenced letter was in fact the Homily to Diognetus.

Despite being labeled an epistle, the structure of the text does not resemble that of a letter. It lacks standard epistolary elements such as a salutation, signature, or sender. Rather, it reads as a public theological discourse—an instructional homily delivered in a church setting.

Historical inscriptions from the ancient city of Smyrna identify a figure named Diognetus, a local aristocrat active during the time of Polycarp. Smyrna, located in Anatolia, was one of the cities where Marcion evangelized and established congregations. Notably, a Marcionite presbyter named Metrodorus, who was later martyred, is known to have served in Smyrna.

It is likely that Diognetus, a curious pagan, visited a Marcionite congregation and questioned Marcion directly about his beliefs. The content of the Homily to Diognetus appears to be Marcion’s public response to these inquiries—later transcribed and circulated throughout the Christian world. Tertullian’s reference to the homily as a “letter” likely reflects a misclassification.

At some point in its transmission, the text was anonymized. All attribution to Marcion of Sinope was removed, and the work was circulated under no authorial name. Eventually lost, the manuscript was rediscovered centuries later and recognized for its historical and theological significance.

The translation of the Homily to Diognetus included in the Homileticon of the Marcionite Church of Christ is based on the critical edition by J. B. Lightfoot, The Apostolic Fathers (1891).

Marcionite Christians do not practice infant baptism, as infants are incapable of repentance or belief—both of which are clear prerequisites for baptism according to Scripture. Infants are born without sin and are not morally accountable until they reach an age where they can understand the difference between good and evil. Until such time, they have no need for baptism. Nowhere in the Testamentum is infant baptism explicitly described or commanded. In every recorded instance of baptism, faith and repentance precede the sacrament.

For this reason, the Marcionite Church of Christ adheres to the practice of ‘Credobaptism,’ or ‘Believer’s Baptism.’ This is administered exclusively by full triple immersion—also known as trine immersion—in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. The triple immersion recalls both the trinitarian formula and the three days and three nights our Lord Jesus Christ lay in the tomb.

Historical testimony supports this practice. Both Epiphanius and Enzik of Kolb confirm that Marcionite Christians observed trine immersion and permitted Deaconesses to baptize other women, in keeping with apostolic-era customs of modesty and propriety.

The Marcionite Church of Christ recognizes as valid only those baptisms that are performed in the trinitarian formula and by full triple immersion. Baptisms that do not meet these criteria require proper rebaptism upon entry into the Church.

In accordance with the practice of the earliest Christians, catechumens preparing for baptism are required to fast for the full day preceding their reception of the sacrament. This is an act of purification and solemn anticipation.

Tertullian further records that Marcionite Christians anointed those being baptized with Holy Oil as part of the baptismal rite. Following baptism, it was customary to give the newly baptized a symbolic drink of milk and honey—a tradition rooted in the belief that Christianity had replaced the false Abrahamic and Mosaic covenants. Whereas the Hebrew law prohibited the use of honey in sacrificial offerings due to its tendency to ferment, the Marcionite use of honey underscored the sweetness and incorruptibility of the true covenant in Christ.

As Christ himself commanded:

“Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.”
—Evangelicon 24:74

This command, coupled with the apostolic pattern of repentance and faith preceding baptism, guides the Marcionite Church in its sacramental discipline and preserves the purity of Christ’s ordinance.

No. Tertullian incorrectly alleged that Marcionite Christians refused baptism to those who were married, requiring spouses to divorce before receiving the sacrament. This misrepresentation distorts the actual practice of the Marcionite Church, which followed the principle known as the Pauline privilege.

The Pauline privilege, derived from the Apostle Paul’s instructions in the First Epistle to the Corinthians, permits the dissolution of a marriage between two individuals who were unbaptized at the time the union was contracted. In accordance with this principle, Marcionite Christians required candidates for baptism to dissolve any pre-Christian marital bonds. After receiving baptism, they were then free to contract a new Christian marriage within the Church.

This practice applied exclusively to marriages between the unbaptized. The Marcionite Church of Christ does not permit the dissolution of a marriage between two baptized Christians. Such a separation is viewed as adultery and is strictly forbidden.

Tertullian also wrongly asserted that candidates for baptism in the Marcionite Church were required to take vows of celibacy. This claim mischaracterizes the requirements surrounding the dissolution of a non-Christian marriage. Since such a marriage was considered invalid upon baptism, any sexual activity prior to baptism—after the dissolution—would have been deemed fornication or adultery. Abstinence was expected only during this transitional period, not as a lifelong vow.

Marcionite Christianity places no restrictions on lawful Christian marriage, nor does it mandate celibacy. These false accusations were propagated by Catholic Church Fathers writing long after the death of Marcion of Sinope and without firsthand knowledge of Marcionite practice.

Indeed, Marcion of Sinope emphasized that Christian marriages should be conducted with ecclesiastical approval, underscoring the moral and pastoral integrity of the Church’s leadership. As he taught:

“It becometh men and women too, when they marry, to unite themselves with the consent of the bishop, that the marriage may be after the Lord and not after concupiscence.”
—Metrodorus 5:7

It is possible that bishops within the Marcionite Church—including Marcion himself—declined to sanction certain marriages that appeared to be driven solely by lust rather than genuine Christian commitment. This pastoral discretion may have contributed to the false impression that Marcionite Christians rejected marriage altogether.

In truth, the Marcionite Church of Christ affirms the sanctity of Christian marriage, upholds the Pauline privilege as scripturally warranted, and rejects the imposition of celibacy as a prerequisite for baptism.

No. This accusation—like many others made by the early Catholic Church Fathers—was a false and misleading claim designed to discredit Marcionite Christians and deter prospective converts. The charge that Marcionite Christianity mandated universal celibacy lacks any foundation in the Testamentum or in the historical practices of the Marcionite Church.

Nowhere in the Testamentum is there a commandment requiring followers of Jesus Christ to live in celibacy. The Apostle Paul affirmed the value of celibacy for those called to it, especially in service to the Gospel, but he never forbade marriage. Rather, he upheld marriage as honorable and drew rich theological parallels between the union of husband and wife and the relationship between Christ and the Church:

“Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the church, and gave himself for it; That he might sanctify and cleanse it with the washing of water by the word, That he might present it to himself a glorious church, not having spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing; but that it should be holy and without blemish. So ought men to love their wives as their own bodies. He that loveth his wife loveth himself.”
—Laodiceans 5:25–28

While it is true that Marcion himself embraced celibacy as a personal spiritual discipline, he never imposed it as a requirement upon his followers. Rather, he emphasized the importance of Eucharistic discipline and encouraged married couples to observe periodic abstinence in preparation for receiving Holy Communion.

This practice aligns with the Marcionite Church’s tradition of the Saturday Eucharistic fast, in which believers abstain from food and drink beginning at the ninth hour (3:00 P.M.) following their third recitation of the Lord’s Prayer. This fast continues until the faithful receive the Holy Communion on Sunday. During this time, abstention from marital relations is also expected—again, not as a blanket prohibition on sexuality, but as a devotional preparation for the sacrament.

This discipline reflects the Apostle Paul’s own guidance regarding married life, in which he encourages temporary abstinence by mutual consent for the purpose of prayer and spiritual focus:

“Nevertheless, to avoid fornication, let every man have his own wife, and let every woman have her own husband. Let the husband render unto the wife due benevolence: and likewise also the wife unto the husband. The wife hath not power of her own body, but the husband: and likewise also the husband hath not power of his own body, but the wife. Defraud ye not one the other, except it be with consent for a time, that ye may give yourselves to fasting and prayer; and come together again, that Satan tempt you not for your incontinency.”
—1 Corinthians 7:2–5

In keeping with this instruction, Marcionite Christians also observe abstinence from marital relations on Spy Wednesday, in remembrance of Christ’s betrayal, and on Good Friday, in mourning of His crucifixion.

These devout practices of Eucharistic discipline and temporary abstinence were not unique to the Marcionite Church. They were later adopted by the Catholic Church and continue to be observed in various forms by many Christian traditions today. Far from forbidding marriage, the Marcionite Church affirms it as a holy covenant while also upholding the value of spiritual discipline in preparation for sacred rites.

Chrismation is the Marcionite Christian term for what is commonly referred to as Confirmation. It is administered shortly after baptism and is regarded as essential for completing the sacrament of initiation. Baptism, while vital, is not considered fully efficacious unless sealed through the rite of Chrismation.

The Marcionite Church of Christ holds that individuals who have received a trinitarian credobaptism by full triple immersion—but who have not undergone Chrismation—must complete their initiation by receiving this sacrament. Chrismation serves as the spiritual sealing of the believer, affirming the indwelling of the Holy Spirit and full entry into the Body of Christ.

Tertullian attests that after baptism, Marcionite Christians were given a mixture of milk and honey to drink. This act likely formed part of the Chrismation rite. The consumption of milk and honey symbolized the believer’s entrance into the spiritual Promised Land of the Christian covenant—superior to the false covenant, which forbade the use of honey in sacrificial offerings due to its tendency to corrupt.

This symbolism is reflected in the Psalmicon, which contains the line:

“Distill thy dews upon us and open thy rich fountains that pour forth to us milk and honey.”
—Psalmicon 3:10

This practice underscores the Marcionite emphasis on the grace-filled nature of the true covenant in contrast to the legalism, corruption, and fleshly rituals of the false covenant of the Hebrew Bible.

Marcionite Christians receive Holy Communion under both kinds, partaking of both the consecrated bread and wine. This practice is consistently affirmed by the early Catholic Church Fathers, who attested that the Marcionites used both elements in their Eucharistic celebrations. Communion in one kind alone—receiving only the bread—is considered incomplete. In keeping with ancient Christian reverence, Marcionite Christians kneel and receive the Eucharist directly upon the tongue.

Following the reception of Holy Communion, the faithful offer the traditional Thanksgiving Prayer:

“Now we have received the precious body and the precious blood of Christ, let us give thanks to Him who has thought us worthy to partake of these His holy mysteries; and let us beseech Him that it may not be to us for condemnation, but for salvation, to the advantage of soul and body, to the preservation of piety, to the remission of sins, and to the life of the world to come. Let us arise, and by the grace of Christ let us dedicate ourselves to God, to the only unbegotten God, and to His Christ. Amen.”

This prayer reflects the gratitude, humility, and spiritual orientation of the Marcionite faithful as they partake of the true mysteries of Christ, apart from the burdens and distortions of the false covenant.

Yes. The Marcionite Christian Divine Liturgy follows the practice of open communion, welcoming all Christians who have received a Trinitarian credobaptism through full triple immersion and have been sealed with Confirmation or Chrismation.

Historical accounts from Tertullian, Epiphanius, and Jerome confirm that Marcionite Christians permitted both non-believers and catechumens to enter their churches, allowing them to witness the liturgies and observe the administration of the sacraments.

Marcionite Christians hold that, in the Eucharist, the entire substance of the bread becomes the Body of Christ, and the entire substance of the wine becomes the Blood of Christ. This transformation occurs through the power of Christ’s words and the operation of the Holy Spirit during the Eucharistic prayer. While the underlying substance is changed, the outward appearance and physical qualities of the bread and wine—known as the Eucharistic species—remain the same.

“They abstain from eucharist and prayer, because they allow not that the eucharist is the flesh of our Saviour Jesus Christ, which flesh suffered for our sins, and which the Father of His goodness raised up.”
Symrnaeans 6:8

Marcionite Christians are to recite the Lord’s Prayer three times each day: first at the third hour (9:00 A.M.), in remembrance of Jesus’ trial before Pontius Pilate; again at the sixth hour (Noon), marking the hour of his crucifixion; and finally at the ninth hour (3:00 P.M.), commemorating the moment of his death on the cross. These three daily prayers honor not only the Passion of Jesus Christ but also reflect the Holy Trinity and the three days and nights he lay in the tomb.

Marcionite Christians reject the practice of the seven daily fixed prayer times, recognizing it as a custom rooted in Judaism and the false covenant.

Prayer is also required before every meal, as a blessing to sanctify what is consumed. Prior to prayer and before attending Divine Liturgy, all Marcionite Christians are expected to observe ritual washing—of the hands (manulavium), the face (capitilavium), and the feet (pedilavium). All prayers are to be offered while facing west, with the worshipper kneeling, bowing the head, and folding the hands in reverence.

Yes. The Marcionite version of the Lord’s Prayer, preserved in Evangelicon 10:2–4, opens with the striking invocation, “Let Thy Holy Spirit come upon us, and cleanse us”—a line absent from the later canonical forms in Matthew and Luke. Early Church Fathers Tertullian and Epiphanius attested that this was the version recited in their own congregations, yet Tertullian noted that the version of the prayer in the Evangelicon uniquely began with this Spirit-invocation. Its removal from later texts reflects theological discomfort with its implications: it bypasses Torah, priesthood, and ritual, asserting that cleansing comes directly from the Father through His Spirit. Gregory of Nyssa and Maximus the Confessor continued to quote the Spirit-line centuries after it had vanished from official texts, and it survives in Greek manuscripts from the 10th century—clear evidence that the Marcionite form preserves the original, unedited version. This was not a revision of Matthew or Luke, but a parent text that later editors reshaped to suit emerging doctrinal priorities.

The closing petition also reveals a key theological distinction. The Marcionite version reads, “suffer us not to be brought into temptation,” rather than “lead us not,” softening the tone and avoiding any suggestion that God initiates trials. Tertullian preserves this permissive reading in Latin, and it aligns with the passive Greek verb used. This phrasing fits Marcion’s vision of the true God—who never tests, tempts, or harms—unlike Yahweh, who in the Hebrew Bible hardens hearts, creates evil (Isaiah 45:7), and commands destruction. The shift preserves the Father’s moral purity and aligns the prayer with the gospel Paul preached. Modern scholars such as Harnack, BeDuhn, Vinzent, and Klinghardt affirm the priority of the Marcionite version. Rome’s discomfort with the older language resurfaced in modern times: in 2008, the Vatican banned the use of the name “Yahweh” in hymns, and in 2019, Bishop Francis revised the Lord’s Prayer to read, “do not let us fall into temptation”—a move that echoes Marcion’s ancient insight. The full version of the Lord’s Prayer, as preserved in the Testamentum, is:

Our Father which art in heaven,
Hallowed be Thy name.
Let Thy Holy Spirit come upon us, and cleanse us;
Thy kingdom come.
Thy will be done, as in heaven, so on earth.
Give us day by day our daily bread.
And forgive us our sins; for we also forgive every one that is indebted to us.
And suffer us not to be brought into temptation; but deliver us from evil. Amen.

The Apostle Paul viewed intercession—praying or pleading to God on behalf of others—as a vital part of Christian life. He regularly prayed for the churches he established and requested prayers for himself, indicating a mutual and communal approach to intercession.

Marcion of Sinope, writing in the early 2nd century, upheld intercession within the framework of church unity, ecclesial authority, and communal salvation. His letters frequently reflect the idea that Christians should pray for one another, particularly for leaders, martyrs, and the unity of the church.

Marcionite Christians affirm the spiritual power and communal necessity of intercession. The Apostle Paul emphasized divine agency and the Spirit, while Marcion emphasized communal unity and hierarchical order in the church.

Ephrem the Syrian attested that Marcionite Christians prayed facing west, a practice known as Ad occidentem. While this custom is not explicitly commanded in the Testamentum, it does not conflict with any scriptural teachings. Rather, it appears to have developed organically as a distinctive tradition within Marcionite Christian communities.

The westward orientation likely arose to set Marcionite Christians apart from their Judeo-Christian counterparts, who preserved the Jewish custom of praying toward the east—Ad orientem—a practice rooted in the Hebrew Bible’s creation narrative, which situates the Garden of Eden in the east.

In deliberate contrast, Marcionite Christians rejected these eastward associations tied to the false covenant and instead instituted their own westward prayer direction as a unique expression of their faith and separation from Judaism.

Marcionite Christians have historically ended their prayers with the word Amen, much like other Christian traditions. The Apostle Paul concluded all his epistles with Amen, and it also appears in several doxologies throughout his writings.

The term Amen means “truly,” “verily,” “so be it,” or “it is true.” Though it has Semitic roots and entered Greek from Aramaic and Hebrew-speaking Christians, its meaning is universal and does not carry any inherent theological association with the false covenant. It simply affirms the truth and sincerity of what has been spoken in prayer.

In contrast, the use of Hallelujah is strictly forbidden in Marcionite Christian prayer and liturgy. Hallelujah translates directly to “Praise Yahweh” in Hebrew and bears an explicit connection to the false god of the Hebrew Bible. Since Marcionite Christians reject the worship of Yahweh, the term is considered theologically offensive and must not be used.

The Menologion is the official liturgical calendar of the Marcionite Church of Christ.

It consists of designated Holy Days, which are organized into two main categories: Holy Week and Holy Feasts. The Holy Feasts are further divided into Major Feasts and Minor Feasts.

On all Holy Days, the faithful are expected to attend Mass and refrain from work and leisure activities as an act of reverence and devotion.

Each Holy Day in the Menologion corresponds to a significant historical or scriptural event. Dates are never chosen arbitrarily; every observance must be grounded in either the Testamentum or authentic historical tradition, preserving the integrity and meaning behind each commemoration.

Marcionite Christians commemorate the Feast of Marcion on July 15, the Ides of July, as a sacred observance honoring the life and enduring legacy of Marcion of Sinope. This date reflects the early Marcionite Christian phrase, “115 years and six and a half months between Christ and Marcion,” a calculation cited by Tertullian. It spans from the descent of Jesus in the fifteenth year of Tiberius Caesar (29 C.E.) to the excommunication of Marcion by the Roman Church in July of 144 C.E. Marcion’s unwavering boldness, empowered by the Holy Spirit, enabled him to stand firm against opposition and proclaim that the true Christian God was made known solely through Jesus Christ.

On this day, Marcionite Christians read the Homily to Diognetus as the appointed homily during the Divine Liturgy, reflecting the theological convictions and spiritual clarity Marcion brought to the early Church.

Marcionite Christians also observe the Feast of the Cross on September 14. According to Christian tradition, the True Cross was discovered on this date in the year 326 C.E. by Helena of Constantinople, mother of Emperor Constantine the Great, during a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. At the site of the discovery, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre was commissioned and later dedicated. The cross was divided into three parts: one remained in Jerusalem, another was brought to Rome and enshrined in the Basilica of Santa Croce in Gerusalemme, and the third was sent to Constantinople to serve as a symbol of divine protection for the city.

In the earliest days of Christianity, dedicated church buildings were rare. Divine Liturgy was most often celebrated in private homes, typically led by a presbyter—frequently the homeowner—and attended by at least three gathered believers. Even today, Divine Liturgy may be rightly conducted in the home with one’s own family, following the ancient tradition of house churches that sustained the faithful during times of hardship and persecution.

As modern challenges intensify—whether from hostile governments or the collapse of faithful institutions—Christians may again be called to gather in homes and take up the sacred duty of worship and sacrament. The Marcionite Christian Divine Liturgy offers a means of continuity in such times, preserving the traditions of the early church.

This liturgy is rooted in the ancient form attributed to James the Just, one of the Seventy Disciples and the first overseer of the Jerusalem church. Recognized as the oldest known Christian liturgy, it has been restored with care—freed from later interpolations and brought into harmony with Marcionite practices such as open communion and westward prayer. Notably, this ancient liturgy already included the Marcionite tradition of the mixed chalice.

The Divine Liturgy of the Marcionite Church of Christ is remarkably similar to that of the early Catholic Church, to the point that Cyril of Jerusalem once warned the faithful not to mistake a Marcionite service for their own, so alike were the prayers, the sacraments, and the forms of worship.

All prayers during the liturgy are to be spoken in the vernacular. Men are to worship with heads uncovered, while women must cover their heads. Before the service, all participants must perform ritual washings: the manulavium (hands), capitilavium (face), and pedilavium (feet). Prayers are conducted while facing west, in deliberate contrast to the eastward orientation inherited from the Hebrew Bible. At the mention of the Lord Jesus Christ during the service, all present are to bow their heads in reverence.

Marcionite Christians gather every Sunday for Divine Liturgy, commemorating the resurrection of Jesus Christ and honoring the Lord’s Day as a weekly celebration of life and deliverance. There is no division into morning and evening services, as that practice is drawn from Jewish temple rites and the instructions of the Hebrew Bible concerning daily sacrifices—traditions Marcionite Christians do not observe.

At the conclusion of Divine Liturgy, the faithful partake in the Holy Lovefeast, a communal and sacramental meal shared by all. Each person contributes food, which is divided equally. The meal serves not only as an act of fellowship and mutual charity but as an expression of unity in Christ. Those unable to attend due to sickness or infirmity are to be included through the delivery of this meal to their homes.

This structure of worship—simple, reverent, communal, and Christ-centered—embodies the spirit of the early Church and sustains the mission of the Marcionite faithful in every age.

1. Saint Achaicus of Corinth
2. Saint Agabus the Prophet
3. Saint Ampliatus of Odessos
4. Saint Ananias of Damascus
5. Saint Andrew the Apostle
6. Saint Andronicus of Pannonia
7. Saint Apelles of Heraklion
8. Saint Apollos of Caesarea
9. Saint Aquila of Rome
10. Saint Archippus of Laodicea
11. Saint Aristarchus of Thessalonica
12. Saint Aristobulus of Brittania
13. Saint Artemas of Lystra
14. Saint Asyncritus of Hyrcania
15. Saint Barnabas of Milan
16. Saint Barsabbas of Eleutheropolis
17. Saint Bartholomew the Apostle
18. Saint Caesar of Dyrrachium
19. Saint Carpus of Beroea
20. Saint Cephas of Iconium
21. Saint Clement of Sardice
22. Saint Cleopas of Jerusalem
23. Saint Crescens of Galatia
24. Saint Demas of Thessalonica
25. Saint Dismas the Penitent Thief
26. Saint Epaphroditus of Andriaca
27. Saint Epenetus of Carthage
28. Saint Erastus of Corinth
29. Saint Evodius of Antioch
30. Saint Fortunatus of Corinth
31. Saint Gaius of Ephesus
32. Saint Hermagoras of Aquileia
33. Saint Hermas of Dalmatia
34. Saint Hermas of Philippopolis
35. Saint Herodion of Patras
36. Saint James the Elder Apostle
37. Saint James the Just
38. Saint James the Younger Apostle
39. Saint Jason of Thessalonica
40. Saint Joanna the Wife of Chuza
41. Saint John Mark of Bibloupolis
42. Saint John the Apostle
43. Saint John the Baptist
44. Saint Joseph of Arimathea
45. Saint Judas the Apostle
46. Saint Junia of Rome
47. Saint Lazarus the Beggar
48. Saint Linus of Rome
49. Saint Longinus the Centurion
50. Saint Lucius of Cyrene
51. Saint Luke the Physician
52. Saint Mark of Apollonia
53. Saint Mark the Evangelist
54. Saint Martha of Bethany
55. Saint Mary Magdalene
56. Saint Mary of Bethany
57. Saint Mary the Mother of James
58. Saint Matthew the Apostle
59. Saint Matthias of Jerusalem
60. Saint Narcissus of Athens
61. Saint Nicanor the Deacon
62. Saint Nicodemus of Jerusalem
63. Saint Nicolas the Deacon
64. Saint Olympas the Martyr
65. Saint Onesimus of Byzantium
66. Saint Onesiphorus of Colophon
67. Saint Parmenas of Soli
68. Saint Parrobus of Pottole
69. Saint Patrobulus of Puteoli
70. Saint Paul the Apostle
71. Saint Peter the Apostle
72. Saint Philemon of Gaza
73. Saint Philip the Evangelist
74. Saint Phillip the Apostle
75. Saint Philologus of Sinope
76. Saint Phlegon of Marathon
77. Saint Phoebe the Deacon
78. Saint Phygellus of Ephesus
79. Saint Pontius Pilate
80. Saint Priscilla of Rome
81. Saint Prochorus of Nicomedia
82. Saint Pudens the Senator
83. Saint Quartus of Berytus
84. Saint Rufus of Thebes
85. Saint Silas of Corinth
86. Saint Silvanus of Thessalonica
87. Saint Simon of Cyrene
88. Saint Simon the Apostle
89. Saint Sosipater of Iconium
90. Saint Sosthenes of Colophonia
91. Saint Stachys of Byzantium
92. Saint Stephanas of Corinth
93. Saint Stephen the Protomartyr
94. Saint Susanna the Myrrhbearer
95. Saint Tertius of Iconium
96. Saint Thaddeus of Edessa
97. Saint Thomas the Apostle
98. Saint Timon the Deacon
99. Saint Timothy of Ephesus
100. Saint Titus of Crete
101. Saint Trophimus the Martyr
102. Saint Tychicus of Colophonia
103. Saint Urban of Macedonia
104. Saint Zacchaeus of Jericho
105. Saint Zebedee of Capernaum
106. Saint Zenas the Lawyer

According to Tertullian, Marcionite Christians were the first to adopt the use of the sign of the cross as a regular devotional practice.

Marcionite Christians make the sign of the cross when entering or passing by a church, at the beginning and end of Divine Liturgy, before and after receiving Holy Communion, following Holy Reconciliation and Holy Chrismation, and both before and after reciting the Lord’s Prayer.

The gesture is performed by joining the first three fingers together to represent the Holy Trinity, while folding the remaining two into the palm as a sign of Christ’s dual nature. The hand is then moved from the forehead, to below the chest, to the left shoulder, then to the right shoulder, and finally placed over the heart with a bow of the head. The invocation accompanying the motion is Trinitarian: at the forehead, “In the name of the Father,” at the chest, “and of the Son,” across the shoulders, “and of the Holy Spirit,” and finally, “Amen.”

From a Marcionite perspective, the veneration of sacred images—iconodulism—is appropriate when directed toward the true God revealed through Jesus Christ, not the false god of the Hebrew Bible. Icons serve as visual testimonies to the goodness, mercy, and love of the Father made known through His Son.

Christ appeared truly among men—not as an illusion, but as the perfect image of the Father’s goodness and grace. Depicting Him in sacred art affirms His manifestation in history and His work of deliverance. Icons are not worshiped, but serve as visual proclamations of the Gospel and reminders of the true God’s revelation through Christ.

In honoring the image of Christ, we honor the revelation of the good God, made known in love and truth—not in fear or wrath.

The practice of saying grace before meals is rooted in the Testamentum, where Jesus is shown blessing the food before sharing it:

“And it came to pass, as he sat at meat with them, he took bread, and blessed it, and brake, and gave to them.”
Evangelicon 23:29

Marcionite Christians are instructed to offer a prayer of thanksgiving before every meal. The traditional prayer is as follows:

“Thou art blessed, O Lord, who nourishest me from my youth, who givest food to all flesh. Fill our hearts with joy and gladness, that having always what is sufficient for us, we may abound to every good work, in Christ Jesus our Lord, through whom glory, honour, and power be to Thee for ever. Amen.”

This form of grace is drawn from one of the earliest Christian prayers of thanksgiving, preserved in the Constitutions of the Holy Apostles.

The only dietary restrictions observed by Marcionite Christians are those outlined in the Apostolic Decree. These include abstaining from food offered to idols, from blood, from meat containing blood, and from the flesh of animals that have been strangled.

“Speaking lies in hypocrisy; having their conscience seared with a hot iron; Forbidding to marry, and commanding to abstain from meats, which God hath created to be received with thanksgiving of them which believe and know the truth. For every creature of God is good, and nothing to be refused, if it be received with thanksgiving: For it is sanctified by the word of God and prayer.”
1 Timothy 4:2–5

Outside of these restrictions, Marcionite Christians are free to eat all foods with thanksgiving, as they are sanctified through prayer and the word of God.

No. There is no scriptural basis for mandating a vegetarian, pescatarian, or vegan lifestyle for Marcionite Christians.

The Apostle Paul plainly teaches that abstaining from meat is not a sign of spiritual strength, but rather a sign of weaker faith:

“Him that is weak in the faith receive ye, but not to doubtful disputations. For one believeth that he may eat all things: another, who is weak, eateth herbs.”
Romans 12:1–2

At the same time, Paul warns believers not to pass judgment on each other regarding food, emphasizing that diet should not be a source of division within the Christian community:

“Let us not therefore judge one another any more: but judge this rather, that no man put a stumblingblock or an occasion to fall in his brother’s way.”
Romans 12:13

Paul also suggests that refraining from meat in certain contexts—such as when dining with those who are sensitive or concerned about food sacrificed to idols—is an act of charity, not a commandment:

“But if thy brother be grieved with thy meat, now walkest thou not charitably. Destroy not him with thy meat…”
Romans 12:15

Paul addresses concerns about food sacrificed to idols, explaining that while idols are nothing, Christians must remain sensitive to the consciences of others:

“What say I then? that the idol is any thing, or that which is offered in sacrifice to idols is any thing? But I say, that the things which the Gentiles sacrifice, they sacrifice to devils, and not to God… Whatsoever is sold in the shambles, that eat, asking no question for conscience sake: For the earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof… But if any man say unto you, This is offered in sacrifice unto idols, eat not for his sake that shewed it, and for conscience sake…”
1 Corinthians 10:19–29

In summary, dietary practices are a matter of personal liberty and conscience in Marcionite Christianity, so long as they do not conflict with the Apostolic Decree or lead others into spiritual harm.

Marcionite Christians observe fasting on Spy Wednesday to commemorate the betrayal of Christ by Judas, and again on Good Friday in solemn remembrance of the crucifixion of Jesus.

Additionally, Marcionite Christians are required to fast from their third recitation of the Lord’s Prayer at the ninth hour (3:00 P.M.) on Saturday until they receive Holy Communion on Sunday. A full day of fasting is also mandated prior to baptism as a sign of spiritual preparation and devotion.

Epiphanius noted that the Marcionite practice of a Saturday Eucharistic fast arose in deliberate contrast to Judaism, which regarded the Sabbath as a time of joy and feasting. Interestingly, this same tradition of Saturday fasting was later adopted in the Western Catholic Church, further underscoring its early Christian roots.

Marcionite Christians do not adhere to asceticism as a universal requirement. This misconception was propagated by early critics of Marcion and his followers, but it lacks foundation in scripture and misrepresents Marcionite practice.

While it is true that Marcion of Sinope personally embraced an ascetic lifestyle—evident in his vow of celibacy—he never imposed such a discipline on the broader church. His own example was one of personal conviction, not ecclesiastical command.

Marcion’s disciple, Apelles, exemplifies this further. Apelles was not ascetic; he married a woman named Philumena. This demonstrates that even among Marcion’s closest followers, asceticism was understood as an individual and voluntary path, never a mandated standard for all Marcionite Christians.