Type: supporting argument (off-timeline) · Assessment: weak — two questions must be kept apart. That a Philip lived, and was buried, at Hierapolis is among the best-attested facts of any apostle’s later life. But a martyrdom there is unattested before the fourth-to-fifth-century Acts of Philip, and the celebrated manner — hung head-downward from a tree by his pierced ankles — is a late legend visibly patterned on Peter’s inverted cross. The bare fact of a martyrdom is not refuted — the early notice that Philip “fell asleep” there does not exclude one (Polycrates uses that very word of confessed martyrs) — but nothing early positively attests it, and the head-downward cross rests on the romance alone. (Which Philip is buried at Hierapolis is a separate question, weighed here.)
And he ordered to bring clubs and strong cords; and after piercing Philip’s ankles they brought hooks, and put the cords through his ankles, and hung him head downwards on a tree that was before the door of the temple…
— the Acts of Philip (ANF vol. 8). The claim: Philip died a martyr at Hierapolis, crucified or hung head-downward under the city’s proconsul after converting his wife.1
The place is solid history. That a Philip was buried at Hierapolis is among the best-attested facts about any apostle’s later life: Papias (c. 110–130), Polycrates (c. 190), and the Dialogue of Gaius (c. 200) all place his grave there, and a great octagonal martyrium stood on the hill above the city by the fifth century — confirmed, with a first-century tomb beside it, by the 2011 excavations of Francesco D’Andria.2
A martyr-cult is old, and the manner breaks no historical law. Veneration of Philip specifically as a martyr is not a modern gloss: the shrine is a martyrium, and the city kept a martyr’s cult. If the church of Hierapolis remembered its Philip as a martyr, that memory deserves a hearing on its own terms. Nor is the death-scene intrinsically incredible: a first-century crucifixion under a Roman magistrate is ordinary enough, and inverted crucifixion was itself an attested Roman variation, not a physical impossibility (the point is weighed for Peter). And the one early datum sometimes read against a martyrdom — that Polycrates says Philip “fell asleep” — carries no such weight: “falling asleep” is simply the Christian word for death, used even of confessed martyrs, so it neither affirms nor denies how Philip died.3
What holds. The place is secure: a Philip, his daughters, and his grave belong to Hierapolis on early and independent testimony, and a martyr-cult grew up there. The city’s martyrium is real, and the supernatural is not the problem here — a first-century crucifixion under a Roman magistrate is unremarkable. The common objection from Polycrates’ “sleeps” also fails: in the very letter that says Philip “fell asleep” at Hierapolis, Polycrates uses the identical verb of Thraseas and Sagaris, each of whom he calls in the same breath “bishop and martyr.” The word records a grave, not a manner of death; it is no evidence against a martyrdom.3
What fails. Even so, a martyrdom — still more its manner — is unattested early, and that is what sinks the head-downward claim. Papias, Polycrates, and Gaius report a grave and daughters, not a killing; not one early witness says Philip was put to death at all. The whole vivid death-scene — the proconsul, the converted wife Nicanora, the pierced ankles, the head-downward tree, the preaching from the cross — enters only with the Acts of Philip, a late romance of low biographical value, thick with talking animals and dragons, and its inverted cross is visibly modelled on the martyrdom already told of Peter (in some tellings Philip too is made to plead unworthiness to die as his Lord did). The church did not even preserve a stable memory of the manner: rival traditions have Philip die of old age, or be beheaded. The fifth-century martyrium — itself roughly contemporary with the romance — proves the church venerated Philip as a martyr; it cannot show that he was one, still less how he died. Critical surveys of the apostles’ deaths accordingly place Philip’s martyrdom in the lowest tier of reliability.4
Weak. Keep the two questions apart. The burial of a Philip at Hierapolis is solid history; a martyrdom there is possible but unproven — the early sources attest a grave and, later, a cult, not a killing, and Polycrates’ “fell asleep” neither proves nor disproves one. But the titled claim is narrower and weaker still: that Philip was crucified head-downward hangs on the late Acts of Philip alone, an image visibly borrowed from Peter and unsupported by any early testimony to the death. A fine and enduring picture — but late legend, not history.
The Acts of Philip (ANF vol. 8, tr. Alexander Walker), generally dated to the fourth–fifth century; fuller critical translation in François Bovon & Christopher R. Matthews, The Acts of Philip: A New Translation (Baylor, 2012). On the low biographical value of the apocryphal Acts, see the apostles hub. ↩
Papias in Eusebius, Ecclesiastical History 3.39, 9; Polycrates and the Dialogue of Gaius in 3.31, 3–4. On the martyrium and the 2011 discovery of a first-century tomb, Francesco D’Andria, “Conversion, Crucifixion and Celebration,” Biblical Archaeology Review 37:4 (2011), and “Tomb of Apostle Philip Found,” Biblical Archaeology Society. ↩
Christian “falling asleep” (κοιμάομαι) is a neutral term for death, martyrs included. In the very letter that says Philip “fell asleep” (κεκοίμηται) at Hierapolis, Polycrates uses the same verb of Thraseas of Eumenia and Sagaris of Laodicea, each of whom he expressly calls “bishop and martyr,” and describes the whole company of “great lights” as having “fallen asleep” in Asia: Eusebius, Ecclesiastical History 5.24, 2–5 (the Philip clause repeated from 3.31, 3). Cf. Stephen the protomartyr, who “fell asleep” (ἐκοιμήθη) at his stoning, Acts 7:60. ↩ ↩
The martyrdom and its manner enter only with the Acts of Philip (n. 1); on the head-downward motif already told of Peter, see Was Peter crucified head-downward? On the variant deaths (old age; beheading) and the low reliability of the tradition, Sean McDowell, The Fate of the Apostles (Routledge, 2015), which grades Philip’s martyrdom among the least secure of the apostolic-death traditions, resting on late apocryphal sources. ↩