Story from church history: Polycarp burned at the stake

An elderly man in his eighties sat at a table eating dinner. Polycarp knew his life was in danger. A group of Christians had just been executed in the arena on account of their faith. But Polycarp refused to leave Rome. The Romans were executing any self-proclaimed Christians, and pagans were betraying those they knew to be Christians. After the recent executions, the crowd in the arena had chanted for Polycarp’s death.

A renowned follower of Christ and bishop of Smyrna, Polycarp had become a Christian under the tutelage of John the apostle. Recently, the Roman proconsul had been looking for him for days. After arresting and torturing one of Polycarp’s servants, they finally learned where he was staying. The soldiers came into the house, but instead of fleeing, Polycarp calmly stated, “God’s will be done.”

Polycarp asked that food be brought for the soldiers, and he requested an hour for prayer. Amazed by Polycarp’s fearlessness, especially for a man his age, the hardened Roman soldiers granted his request. He prayed for two hours for all the Christians he knew and for the universal church, and the soldiers let him.

A proconsul (an important magistrate) ordered Polycarp to renounce Christ and give obedience to Caesar as Lord. Polycarp answered, "Eighty and six years have I served Christ, nor has He ever done me any harm. How, then, could I blaspheme my King who saved me? You threaten the fire that burns for an hour and then is quenched; but you know not of the fire of the judgment to come, and the fire of eternal punishment. Bring what you will."

Polycarp, the last one of those personally taught by the apostles, was burned at the stake on this day, February 23, 155.

Excerpted from Foxe: Voices of the Martyrs and an article by Dan Graves.

Story from church history: Bonhoeffer transferred to Buchenwald

Dietrich Bonhoeffer was transferred to
a concentration camp on February 7, 1945.

The following was excerpted from an article by Dan Graves.

Where does a Christian fit in a nation which makes itself god?

The Lutheran theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer answered that the Christian's duty is to resist such a regime. This landed him in a concentration camp and cost him his life.

Safe in exile in America, he abruptly returned to Germany. "I have come to the conclusion that I have made a mistake in coming to America. I shall have no right to participate in the reconstruction of the Christian life in Germany after the war if I did not share in the trials of this time with my people. Christians in Germany face the terrible alternative of willing the defeat of their nation in order that civilization may survive, or willing the victory of their nation and thereby destroying civilization. I know which of these alternatives I must choose. But I cannot make that choice in security."

In Germany, Bonhoeffer worked with the underground resistance. He helped guide Jews to safety. Believing that Hitler was like a madman "driving a car into a group of innocent bystanders," he joined a plot to kill the Führer.
After he was arrested for his aid to the Jews, his role in the plot was discovered. There was little hope he would survive Nazi wrath. Nonetheless, Bonhoeffer was personally at peace. Suffering, he said, had become a better key for understanding the world than happiness had ever been.

On February 7, 1945, he was transferred to the terrible Buchenwald Concentration Camp where many thousands of prisoners died, some under cruel medical experiments.

Two months later, he was hanged at the Flossenbürg Concentration Camp, just days before the Allies freed the camp. He had fulfilled his own theology, aptly expressed in his book The Cost of Discipleship: "The one thing that matters is practical obedience. That will resolve [man's] difficulties and make him free to become the child of God."

Story from church history: The martyrdom of William Tyndale (ca. 1494-1536)

So great is our passion to know the truth that some seekers will give everything, even their lives, for the treasure of knowing one certain thing.

William Tyndale was a well-educated scholar who was frustrated at the distance between English education and the Bible, the source of truth. Tyndale’s life would be devoted to overcoming just this obstacle.

Tyndale was born sometime around 1494 in Gloucester, England. Ninety years earlier the Church had banned the only English Bible in the world, the hand-copied work of John Wycliffe. It was a flawed translation, based on the Latin Vulgate, but it was all English speakers had. And to have it was a crime.

Tyndale’s passions eventually settled on a mission as dangerous as any in his century: to work from the Greek and Hebrew texts to create a Bible in vernacular English, so readable and accurate that an Englishman could depend on it, learn from it, and find God’s voice in it.

To do that work, Tyndale had to leave England. Tyndale travelled to Germany where he completed the New Testament in 1525. Then he went on to Antwerp, one step ahead of English agents, where the first five Old Testament books were translated and printed. In Belgium he met a community of English merchants, and though agents were searching the continent to find him, Tyndale felt secure enough to relax his guard. His lack of caution would prove fatal.

Tyndale took up a friendship with Henry Phillips, who won Tyndale’s confidence but secretly sought the bounty offered for his capture. In May 1535 the trap was set. Tyndale was taken under guard to the castle at Vilvoorde, near Brussels, where he suffered in dank and cold for eighteen months before standing trial for “maintaining that faith alone justifies... that to believe in the forgiveness of sins, and to embrace the mercy offered in the gospel, was enough for salvation.” The complete list of charges included direct attacks on church teaching.

Tyndale knew how these trials ran. He would have no chance at defence, and death was the remedy. With his body shaking from cold and the winter’s light dim for writing, he worked to complete the English Bible, helped by a sympathetic prison governor.

In August 1536, Tyndale was condemned as a heretic and defrocked. For two more months he was kept at Vilvoorde. Then in early October, just past dawn, he was led from prison to the stake. Formalities included placing the Mass once more in his hands, then quickly snatching it back, the offer of last-minute reprieve if he would only recant, and always the shouts of a crowd gathered to witness a “heathen” die.

Secured to the stake, surrounded by brush and logs, Tyndale was heard to pray, “Lord, open the King of England’s eyes.” Then the executioner snapped hard on the rope, strangling Tyndale before the blaze consumed his body.

That final prayer was for the bully King Henry VIII, whose pursuit of a king male heir had already cost Anne Boleyn her life and Catherine her marriage. So full of his own power and pomp, would this king’s eyes ever fall favourably on Tyndale’s English Bible?

Indeed they did. Two years after Tyndale’s death, King Henry authorized the distribution of the Matthew Bible, much of it Tyndale’s work. And then in 1539, all printers and sellers of books were ordered by the king to provide for the “free and liberal use of the Bible in our own maternal English tongue.” Tyndale’s dream and his last earthly appeal had come true.

Excerpted from Foxe: Voices of the Martyrs. written by John Foxe and The Voice of the Martyrs. You can order a copy of this book from our online catalogue.

Story from church history: St. Lawrence killed by greedy official (AD 258)

The following was written by Dan Graves for www.Christianity.com.

“Will you go to Heaven and leave me behind?" Lawrence, one of the seven deacons of Rome, was genuinely upset. Was there some fault in him that God would send the rest of the church leaders to death but spare him?

Sixtus II, Bishop of Rome (pope) in the year 258, comforted Lawrence. God was keeping him back to undergo an even greater ordeal, said the bishop. "Be comforted, you will follow me in three days," he is supposed to have predicted.

The Roman emperor, Valerian, had ordered the death of all Rome's bishops, priests and deacons. The prefect (Roman magistrate) who carried out the order, however, knew that, as deacon, Lawrence had charge of the church's money. "I'll let you go free," he promised, "if you will turn the money over to me."

According to the oldest traditions we have, Lawrence agreed to bring the church's treasures to the prefect. "But it will take me a few days," he said. "The church is very rich."

Released to carry out his promise, Lawrence distributed the church's goods among the poor. He then gathered the city's lame, its blind, and its beggars. On the third day he appeared before the prefect. "Come out and see the wondrous riches of God," he said.

"What is the meaning of this?" raged the prefect.

Lawrence explained that these poor people would some day have new bodies and live forever in Heaven. The treasure of the Holy Spirit was hidden in them as if in jars of clay.

Thwarted from getting his gold and believing that he would be the laughing stock of Rome, the prefect ordered a slow death for Lawrence. On August 10, 258, Lawrence was tortured by having his arms dislocated and then was laid upon a grill and slowly roasted to death.

During his ordeal, he is said to have suggested his killers turn him over, remarking that he was "done" on the one side. He was so calm that the pagans who looked on were greatly impressed.

That is how the legends tell the story, but the facts are not easy to establish. What is certain is that Lawrence was martyred on this day. A hundred years later his story was so well known that the famous Bishop Ambrose of Milan wrote about him and so did others. By then, emperor Constantine had long since built a chapel in his memory. Later popes built other memorials and these became Rome's Church of San Lorenzo.

For other stories of steadfast faith from church history, visit www.Christianity.com.

This week in church history: The death of James Abbes

The following was written by Dan Graves for Christianity.com.

James Abbes stripped off his clothes and shoes. Where he was going in a few minutes, he would not need them – new and glorious garments would be his. But here on earth, some poor folk might find his old garments helpful.

The crowd had come to see one of the burnings that were all too common in the sixteenth century. They would not be disappointed. And they heard words of encouragement, too. As James moved toward the stake, he urged the bystanders to cling to the truth and to seal the cause of Christ with their blood if need be – just as he was now doing. The young man seemed completely confident.

One of the sheriff's servants was cut to his heart by this talk. He cursed James' faith, calling it heresy and he mocked James as a madman. To England's ruling elite as well as to the sheriff's servant, James was a heretic. He held Reformation views during the reign of Queen Mary Tudor of England.

Earlier, when the bishop of Norwich learned of James' "heresy," he ordered him arrested. James wandered about to escape capture, but an informant turned him in. The bishop of Norwich convinced James to recant and gave him a piece of money to seal the bargain.

The money burned the young man's conscience. Although he knew it meant a cruel death, he came back to the bishop and threw down the coin, saying he had been wrong to accept it.

The bishop attempted to talk James out of the stand he was taking; but this time, there was no swaying him. He was given a mock trial and condemned to be burned.

On August 2, 1555, the sheriff's men fastened James to a stake at Bury, England. As the fire was lit, he praised and glorified God.

To read the full account, and for other testimonies of faithful Christians suffering persecution throughout history, please visit Christianity.com’s website

This week in church history: The martyrdom of Moiseyev

The following was written by Dan Graves for Christianity.com.

In the last letter that he wrote home, Ivan Moiseyev (known to friends and family as Vanya) urged his brother Vladimir, "Don't tell our parents everything. Just tell them, 'Vanya wrote me a letter and writes that Jesus Christ is going into battle. This is a Christian battle, and he doesn't know whether he will be back.' I desire that all of you, dear friend, young and old, remember this one verse. Revelation 2:10 – 'Be faithful unto death, and I will give you the crown of life.'" The next day, July 16, 1972, twenty-year-old Vanya died in suspicious circumstances. The Soviets claimed it was an accidental drowning. His family insisted that Vanya was tortured to death.

The son of peasant farmers, Vanya entered the army at eighteen to perform two years of required military training and service. Because he spoke openly of God, which was forbidden in the atheistic regime, Vanya was persecuted by his military supervisors.

His letters home and the tape recordings that he made on his last leave home, documented the cruelties used against him. At times he was starved. He was awakened and interrogated night after night, and often struck. For two weeks in the dead of winter, he was compelled to stand outside in his thin Summer uniform. He claimed that God miraculously warmed him. ...

Vanya was an army chauffer. When every effort failed to break him of his faith, he was ordered to chauffer some KGB men. He did not return. A coffin arrived at his parents' home, welded shut. Vanya's mother insisted it be opened. A brother, who belonged to the Communist party resisted, but the rest of the family prevailed. Vanya was barely recognizable. Witnesses, Christian and non-Christian alike, signed a statement which declared that his chest had been burned. His face and body were lumped and bruised. Heel marks marred his body. His heart was punctured in six places.

Under Communist pressure, the non-Christians withdrew their testimony. The Soviet's claimed that the six heart punctures were from attempts to restart the heart with adrenaline after a drowning accident and that the other marks were from an autopsy. They claimed the Baptists made up the torture story to discredit the regime. However, in light of thousands of other incidents of mistreatment of Christians in the Soviet union, and given Vanya's letters and recordings, the Baptist story is the more believable of the two. To cap matters off, Vanya's unit was broken up because so many men in it had become Christians.

To read other accounts of faithful servants suffering persecution throughout history, please visit http://www.christianity.com/churchhistory.

This week in church history: Britain’s first martyr

The following was written by Dan Graves for Christianity.com. 

A fugitive's praise of God won Alban to Christ.

The Roman emperor Septimus Severus hated Christianity. When he came to Britain in 208, he found Christians living there. In a fury, he ordered them put to the sword. A Christian priest, who is often given the name Amphibalus, fled before the imperial wrath. In the town of Veralum (now named St. Albans) lived Alban, a high ranking Roman soldier.

Something about Amphibalus' behaviour led Alban to offer him shelter. In spite of his status as a hunted refugee, Amphibalus never ceased to praise God. His joy was so real that Alban was moved. He asked how that could be, was told about Christ and converted to Christianity.

The governor learned that Alban was harbouring a Christian fugitive. He sent soldiers to haul in the priest. They were met by a man in a priestly robe. It was none other than Alban. When the governor saw this, he was furious. Since Alban had helped Amphibalus to escape, he said, Alban must bear the punishment due the priest. At the moment, the governor was preparing to pour out a libation (drink offering) to his gods. Now he ordered Alban to do so, saying he would spare him only on condition that he show his loyalty to the old gods by doing that.

Alban refused. "I worship and adore the true and living God, who created all things," he said. After flogging Alban, the governor again asked him to renounce Christianity. Once more Alban refused. And so the governor ordered his execution. According to one legend, the place of execution was across a swollen river. The townsfolk, not wanting to see him die, tore down the bridge. But Alban, desiring to go to God, prayed to be able to cross—and the river dried up. According to another legend, Alban was thirsty and a spring welled up to quench his thirst.

Whatever actually happened, the soldier who was to behead Alban was so awed that he refused to do the job, becoming a Christian himself on the spot. A second soldier was found who cut off both of their heads. Legend says that the eyes of the soldier who struck the deadly blow immediately fell out.

Meanwhile, Amphibalus the priest, hearing that Alban was to die in his place, hurried to the place of execution and offered himself up. He, too, was killed. Modern research indicates that these deaths took place on ... June 22, 209.

Impressed by these events, Alban's judge ordered the persecution to stop. Although the date and other details of Alban's martyrdom are shaky, there is not much doubt among scholars that he actually existed. His story was known around Veralum in the century after his death and he was mentioned in early writings. Churches were built in his honour. The British historian Gildas and the Saxon historian Bede both mention him in their histories.

Why should Christians care about history?

A reproduction of Jean-Léon Gérôme's oil on canvas
 "The Christian Martyrs' Last Prayer" (1883)

Written by Cheryl Odden

“We live in the present and think about the future, why care about the past?” some argue. “Besides, Paul told the Philippians to forget about what lies behind.”

“God is ‘I AM,’ not, ‘I WAS,’” others claim. 

As followers of Christ, why should we care about history? I can think of several reasons.

First, God tells us to. Throughout the Old Testament, the Lord repeatedly told the Israelites to remember Him and the works He had accomplished. That was one reason why they built altars and later “Ebeneezers,” or stones of remembrance, lest they fall back into old patterns of chasing other gods. The same principle holds true for us today. When we remember what God has done in the lives of His followers throughout history, including our own, it encourages and reminds us that He is at work.

Second, knowing our Christian heritage helps us wisely discern claims that others make. Consider Dan Brown’s best-selling book The Da Vinci Code. Brown’s characters claim that the Council of Nicea convened in A.D. 325 to make Jesus Christ divine. An understanding of church history tells us that this is false.

We can dispute The DaVinci Code’s claim by looking to the writings of our early church fathers. These writings, called “patristic writings,” date from A.D. 100 to 450. Irenaeus (A.D. 120-202), Bishop of Lyons (present-day France), wrote Against Heresies to refute the pervasive Gnosticism. His book predates the Council of Nicea by more than a hundred years, and affirms the Deity of Jesus Christ. In addition, theologians note that the New Testament can be reconstructed from quotes in early church fathers’ writings, including those affirming Christ’s Deity.

What really happened at the Council of Nicea? Emperor Constantine gathered together bishops in A.D. 325, primarily to discuss Arianism—a belief espousing Jesus as a created being who had not existed since eternity past. Arianism was condemned as a heresy, yet remnants lingered for centuries, causing great division.

Why care about history? You just read my reasons. What about yours? Begin your own journey through history by reading the writings of early church fathers. For adults, Eusebius’ Church History is a classic book, providing a history of the early church during its first centuries after Christ’s Ascension. Dr. Paul Maier’s translation is well done. For children, I recommend the picture books offered through VOM for 6- to 9-year-olds. For 9- to 14-year-olds, there’s Volume One of Mindy and Brandon Withrow’s chapter book called Peril and Peace: Chronicles of the Ancient Church. If you would like other book recommendations, email VOM at thevoice@persecution.net. Also, the “Christian Martyrs” column that appears in VOM’s monthly newsletter provides an understanding of persecution throughout church history. You can subscribe here.

Persecution isn’t something confined to yesterday’s Roman Coliseum or today’s afflictions. The centuries flanking these eras contain rich stories of courage in the face of opposition for one’s Christian witness. Understanding what believers faced helps us see that God’s grace is available to us as well.

This week in Church history: 12 Carthage Christians martyred

Vigellius Saturninus, the proconsul (Roman administrator) of North Africa in 180 A.D., spoke generously. "You can have the forgiveness of our Lord the Emperor if only you return to your senses," he said.

Speratus, one of twelve Christians who faced him, replied for the rest. "We have never done evil; we have not lent ourselves to wrong; we have never spoken ill, but when ill-treated we have given thanks, for we pay heed to our Emperor."

Evidently Saturninus was stung by that reply. "We too are religious, and our religion is simple," he said defensively. "We swear by the genius of our Lord the Emperor, and pray for his welfare, as you also ought to do."

Speratus offered to instruct Saturninus in true simplicity of worship, but the proconsul brushed him off and turned to the other offenders. "Abandon this way of thinking," he commanded.

Speratus reminded Saturninus that to murder and to lie were the real evils, not the Christian faith. Saturninus ignored him and addressed the other Christians. "Don't share his folly!" he urged them. But the others (five were women) responded as firmly as Speratus.

Cittinus said, "We have no other to fear, save only our Lord God, who is in heaven." Donata added, "Honor Caesar as Caesar; but it is God we fear." Vestia declared, "I am a Christian." Secunda assured the proconsul, "What I am, that I wish to be."

Saturninus turned back to Speratus. "Do you persist in being a Christian?" he asked.

Speratus never wavered. "I am a Christian," he replied, and all the others agreed with him.

Saturninus offered them time to reconsider. To that dangerous bait Speratus answered, "In a matter so plain, we don't need to consider."

Saturninus changed the direction of his inquiry. What were the documents he had found in Speratus lock box? he asked curiously.

"Books and letters of Paul," answered Speratus.

The proconsul made one last effort to change the minds of the Christians. When he saw that they would not bend, he read his decision from a tablet. Heralds then announced his decree: "Speratus, Nartzalus, Cittinus, Veturius, Felix, Aquilinus, Laetantius, Januaria, Generosa, Vestia, Donata, and Secunda, I have ordered to be executed."

The Christians responded with joy. "Thanks be to God," they exclaimed. This was their chance to show their love for Jesus! On July 17, 180, they were beheaded for the sake of Christ, at Scilli, near Carthage, North Africa.

(Source: www.Christianity.com)

This week in Church history: Procopius, first of the Palestine martyrs

When the Roman Emperor Diocletian launched the last and most ruthless of the ten Roman persecutions against Christians, his first victim in Palestine was a young man named Procopius. Eusebius was alive at the time. The Christian author, who became bishop of Caesarea and wrote the most famous history of the early church, left an account of the martyr: 

"The first of all the martyrs who appeared in Palestine was named Procopius. In truth he was a godly man, for even before his confession he had given up his life to great endurance: and from the time that he was a little boy had been of pure habits, and of strict morals: and by the vigor of his mind he had so brought his body into subjection, that, even before his death, his soul seemed to dwell in a body completely mortified, and he had so strengthened his soul by the word of God that his body also was sustained by the power of God. His food was bread only, and his drink water; and he took nothing else besides these two. Occasionally he took food every second day only, and sometimes every third day; oftentimes too he passed a whole week without food.

"But he never ceased day nor night from the study of the word of God: and at the same time he was careful as to his manners and modesty of conduct, so that he edified by his meekness and piety all those of his own standing. And while his chief application was devoted to divine subjects, he was acquainted also in no slight degree with natural science. His family was from Baishan; and he ministered in the orders of the Church in three things: First, he had been a Reader; and in the second order he translated from Greek into Aramaic; and in the last, which is even more excellent than the preceding, he opposed the powers of the evil one, and the devils trembled before him.

"Now it happened that he was sent from Baishan to our city Caesarea, together with his brother confessors. And at the very moment that he passed the gates of the city they brought him before the Governor: and immediately upon his first entrance the judge, whose name was Flavianus, said to him: 'It is necessary that thou shouldest sacrifice to the gods': but he replied with a loud voice, 'There is no God but one only, the Maker and Creator of all things.'

"And when the judge felt himself smitten by the blow of the martyr's words, he furnished himself with arms of another kind against the doctrine of truth, and, abandoning his former order, commanded him to sacrifice to the emperors, who were four in number; but the holy martyr of God laughed still more at this saying, and repeated the words of the greatest of poets of the Greeks [Homer], which he said that 'the rule of many is not good: let there be one ruler and one sovereign.'

"And on account of his answer, which was insulting to the emperors, he, though alive in his conduct, was delivered over to death, and forthwith the head of this blessed man was struck off, and an easy transit afforded him along the way to heaven. And this took place on the seventh day of the month Heziran, in the first year of the persecution in our days. This confessor was the first who was consummated in our city Caesarea."

Over time, Eusebius' simple account became greatly exaggerated. So many conflicting details were added that the makers of church calendars became confused and honored three different men named Procopius! His feast is on July 8.

(Source: Christianity.com)