Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Come near to God and he will come near to you. Wash your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded.
First, about “saints”
The Roman Catholic Church developed an elaborate system of celebrating the lives of “saints.” Early on, these great people were often the martyrs who gave all believers courage to keep their faith in difficult times. Later, these people were thought to play an intermediary role between Jesus and humanity. Their shrines were thought to be healing, powerful places, and they were thought to be praying for us and taking advantage of their special relationship with God on our behalf. Even though these practices have been excessive and even heretical, we still recognize how notable Jesus followers got to be “saints.” The Bible calls everyone who has been set apart for God in Jesus a saint, so you probably deserve an entry in our list. But some people are so inspiring we don’t want to forget them. The Body of Christ has great history. We are part of a transhistorical body, in Christ.
The word “saint” means “holy one.” When Paul writes to the church in Rome, he starts his letter: “To all God’s beloved in Rome, who are called to be saints: Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.”
All about Anthony the Great (251-356)
Today is St. Anthony of Egypt’s feast day.
If you follow Jesus, you are a saint, right along with Anthony.
Anthony was one of the first Christian monks. A “monk” (from Greek: μοναχός, monachos, “single, solitary” and Latin monachus) is a person who practices strict spiritual discipline to be close to God and serve the Lord’s purpose, living either alone or with any number of other monks. They voluntarily choose to leave mainstream society and live an alternative life, usually according to a rule.
Anthony lived for 105 years! At the age of 20, he was inspired by a passage in Mark: “Go, sell what you have, and give to the poor” (10:21). So he made sure his sister was well provided for and gave away a large inheritance and all his possessions. He then pursued a life of solitude in the desert, away from a Church which was quickly becoming dominated by the world. In many ways, he was the “anti-Constantine.”
Anthony was illiterate but he became very wise. He went further into the desert than his ascetic contemporaries in search of an undistracted life with God. He spent time in an old tomb and eventually he shut himself up in an old Roman fort for twenty years. In his solitude, he had frequent run-ins with the devil, but he triumphed over him. His life was written down by the famous bishop of Alexandria, Athanasius, so we know a lot about his struggle and his influential successes. [Link to Athanasius’ Life of Anthony…]
The Emperor Constantine and his two sons, Constantius and Constans, once sent Anthony a joint letter, recommending themselves to his prayers. Noting the astonishment of some of the monks present, Anthony said,
“Do not wonder that the Emperor writes to us, even to a man such as I am; rather be astounded that God has communicated with us, and has spoken to us by His Son.”
Replying to the letter, he exhorted the Emperor and his sons to show contempt for the world and to constantly remember the final judgment.
The holiness Anthony achieved in his solitude ended up being very influential. People came to see him and formed a community around his example. Plus, the leaders of the church called him out of his separation to add his wisdom to the development of the Church.
Perhaps the best movements are those begun by people not trying to start them. The monastic movement that Anthony inspired is still inspiring further descendants in the faith today. You’ll see his influence in the lives of many people in our collection. Many believers to this day, in our own troubled times honor the spirit of separation from the world and practice that separation invasively.
More
You might appreciate a bio of Anthony from the Coptic Church [link].
Expoza Travel tells you why you should go to the desert with Anthony. [link]
Interesting documentary about monks in the desert: Desert Foreigners [link]
What do we do with this?
Here are some ways you could experiment with Anthony’s discipline. You might hear from God yourself!
Spend half a day (or more if you can) in the “wilderness,” in silence, some time in the near future
Have a silent day at home. Make a deal with your spouse or roommates that you are going to be silent (maybe get them to do it with you).
Unplug completely for at least two days.
See if a five-minute alone time of listening during your workday allows you to connect with God in any way.
Therefore My people shall know My Name and what it means. Therefore in that day I am the One who is speaking, ‘Here I am.’”
How beautiful and delightful on the mountains
Are the feet of him who brings good news,
Who announces peace,
Who brings good news of good [things],
Who announces salvation,
Who says to Zion, “Your God reigns!”
Listen! Your watchmen lift up their voices,
Together they shout for joy;
For they will see face to face
The return of the Lord to Zion. Isaiah 52:6-8
Then-President Nelson Mandela revisits his South African prison cell on Robben Island, where he spent 18 of his 27 years in prison, in 1994.
All about Nelson Mandela (1918-2013)
Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela was a South African anti-apartheid revolutionary, politician, and philanthropist who served as President of South Africa from 1994 to 1999. He was the country’s first black chief executive, and the first elected in a fully representative democratic election. His government focused on dismantling the legacy of apartheid through tackling institutionalized racism and fostering racial reconciliation. Politically an African nationalist and democratic socialist, he served as President of the African National Congress (ANC) party from 1991 to 1997. Internationally, Mandela was Secretary General of the Non-Aligned Movement from 1998 to 1999.
Mandela was not outspoken about his Christian faith. However, in his autobiography, he noted that he has always been and always will be a Christian and that his actions and conviction stem from his Christian faith. He kept his Christian beliefs discreet in favor of his great life’s work of reconciliation. “He was a deeply religious man; he believed sincerely in the existence of the Almighty,” said Bishop Don Dabula, who first met Mandela in 1962 and met to pray with him whenever he was at his home in Qunu
The former president had the last rites administered by a Methodist minister in his Houghton home as he was nearing death. Nearby, in a private room, long-time friend Bishop Malusi Mpumlwana said Mandela’s favorite blessing as he died. “I asked not to be in the room when he died,” said Mpumlwana, who had prayed at the family home regularly towards the end of Mandela’s life. He looked at the time midway during what he knew was Mandela’s favorite blessing and saw it was 8:49 p.m. He chanted the words that always made the elderly statesman’s face light up when he heard them: May the Lord bless you and keep you. May the Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you. “May the Lord look upon you with kindness, and give you peace. “I later realized that was when he died,” Mpumlwana said.
It is testament to Mandela’s universal appeal that he has been claimed to be everything from a communist to a true liberal by his many admirers. And the image of the father of South Africa’s secular democracy as being deeply religious may well sit uncomfortably with some. But Mandela’s relationship with religion was always significant, if muted.
He was raised and schooled as a Methodist, an experience he recalled fondly in his autobiography, Long Walk to Freedom. Mandela was married to his third wife, Graça Machel, by the then head of the South African Methodist church, Bishop Mvume Dandala. At a religious conference in 1999, he said: “Without the church, without religious institutions, I would never have been here today…Religion was one of the motivating factors in everything we did.”
But Mandela held an aversion to speaking publicly about his own faith for fear of dividing or—even worse—using religion as a political tool, as the apartheid regime did. In his autobiography he wrote:
“The [apartheid] policy was supported by the Dutch Reformed Church, which furnished apartheid with its religious underpinnings by suggesting that Afrikaners were God’s chosen people and that blacks were a subservient species. In the Afrikaner’s world view, apartheid and the church went hand in hand.”
The head of the Methodist Church in South Africa, Bishop Zipho Siwa, agreed: “He is a leader whose role was to unite everybody.” Ultimately, his faith, like everything else about Mandela, played to the great theme of his life: reconciliation. This was illustrated in a 1994 speech to the Zion Christian Church Easter conference, in which he said: “The good news was borne by our risen Messiah, who chose not one race, who chose not one country, who chose not one language, who chose not one tribe, who chose all of humankind.”
Mandela spent years in prison waiting his opportunity to serve. He had no choice, and maybe you do not either. Will you be bitter when you receive your chance, or ready?
Who can you help reconcile today? Be sincere as you provide a way for people to love. They need your help.
Then I heard a voice from heaven say, “Write this:
‘Blessed are the dead, those who die in the Lord from this moment on!’”
“Yes,” says the Spirit, “so they can rest from their hard work, because their deeds will follow them.” — Revelation 14:13
All about Christophe Munzihirwa (1926-1996)
Christophe Munzihirwa was born in Sud-Kivu Province, in the Belgian Congo. In 1958 he was ordained as a priest. In 1968 he joined the Jesuit Order, from whom the first Catholic missionaries were sent to the Congo. He studied social science and economics in Belgium, but returned to his country in 1969, nine years after independence, to become the formation director for Jesuits in the Kinshasha province (now home to one of the largest and youngest cities in Africa)
Munzihirwa’s prophetic streak surfaced in 1971, when the government of CIA-backed dictator Mobutu Sese Seko responded to a youth protest movement by forcibly enrolling university-age persons, including seminarians, in the military for two years. Munzihirwa insisted on being enlisted alongside his novices, much to the embarrassment of the regime.
Munzihirwa became the Jesuit provincial superior for Central Africa in 1980. In 1986 he was made a coadjutor bishop in Kasongo, and in 1993 he became archbishop of Bukavu.
Munzihirwa earned fame for his refusal to accept patronage from Mobutu. That occasionally created obstacles for him, as in 1995 when a Catholic missionary and members of an international solidarity movement were arrested in Kasongo. When Munzihirwa demanded their release, military officials taunted him for not being a “friend” of Mobutu. Munzihirwa solved the problem by saying that until the group was let go, he would sleep outside their cell. They were freed that evening.
Munzihirwa was unafraid to denounce what he considered military misconduct. During a mid-1990s mass to install a new bishop in Kasongo, in a time in which Mobutu had ordered the city sacked because he believed it was harboring dissenters, Munzihirwa said: “Here before me I see these soldiers. I see the colonel. Stop troubling the people! I ask you, I order you: Stop it!” The commander wanted Munzihirwa taken into custody, and he replied: “I am ready. Arrest me.” Other bishops present, however, intervened and prevented the arrest.
That intervention notwithstanding, Munzihirwa’s criticisms of Mobutu often left him isolated within Zaire’s bishops’ conference. In 1995, a missionary asked him why the bishops were not more outspoken, and he replied: “Father, you can’t imagine. We are just a short distance removed from being part of the presidential mouvance,” a French term meaning “inner circle” or “movement.”
After the genocide began in Rwanda in 1994, Munzihirwa became an outspoken protector of the Hutu refugees who flooded his diocese. He recognized that a few had committed atrocities against Tutsis, but regarded most as innocent victims. He called for healing across ethnic boundaries.
In these days, when we continue to dig common graves, where misery and sickness appear along thousands of kilometers, on routes, along pathways and in fields … we are particularly challenged by the cry of Christ on the Cross: “Father, forgive them.”
Munzihirwa said in an August 1994 homily.
God’s mercy, which breaks the chain of vengeance, is hurtful to militants on every side. But in reality, that is the only thing that can definitively shatter the infernal circle of vengeance.
Final days
As Rwandan troops poured into the eastern part of what was then Zaire in the fall of 1996, Archbishop Christophe Munzihirwa issued a final, fervent plea for help. “We hope that God will not abandon us and that from some part of the world will rise for us a small flare of hope,” he said in his Oct. 28 message, broadcast to anyone, anywhere, who might have been listening. As it turned out, few were.
The civil and military leaders of the region, representing the last shreds of the crumbling autocratic regime of Mobutu Sese Seko, had fled weeks before, knowing that Mobutu was doomed and the Rwandans were unstoppable. Those Rwandans were largely members of the country’s Tutsi minority who blamed Mobutu for harboring Hutu militants, and as their armed bands moved east they were killing anyone who got in their way.
Munzihirwa, bishop of the diocese of Bukavu in eastern Zaire since 1993, was the only authority that stood between hundreds of thousands of Hutu refugees and potential annihilation. He had long criticized all parties which were part of the region’s violence. His last hope, shared with the handful of missionaries and diocesan personnel who stayed behind with him to shelter the refugees, was for rapid intervention by the international community. It was not to be. Less than 24 hours later, in the afternoon of Oct. 29, death came for the archbishop.
Munzihirwa, a Jesuit who called himself a “sentinel of the people,” was shot and killed by a group of Rwandan soldiers, his body left to decay in the deserted streets of Bukavu. It was more than 24 hours before a small group of Xaverian seminarians was able to recover the body and prepare it for burial. Munzihirwa had surrendered himself in the hope that two companions might be able to get away in his car; however, they, too, were caught and executed. At his Nov. 29 funeral, someone recalled Munzihirwa’s favorite saying: “There are things that can be seen only with eyes that have cried.”
In Munzihirwa’s region of Africa millions of people have since died in a continental war, involving the armies of eight nations and an ever-shifting constellation of rebel groups. Other conflicts in the Sudan, in Algeria, in Angola, in Sierra Leone — in a bewildering series of trouble spots scattered across the continent — have claimed hundreds of thousands of lives. Inevitably, killing on such a vast scale creates martyrs, people of faith who lose their lives because they refuse to turn away from danger.
Archbishop Christophe Munzihirwa has become a symbol of hope and resistance in his country, now called the Democratic Republic of Congo. His martyrdom was not unexpected, at least not to him. Munzihirwa had written in an Easter meditation:
Despite anguish and suffering, the Christian who is persecuted for the cause of justice finds spiritual peace in total and profound assent to God, in accord with a vocation that can lead even to death.
Long but great video on the Congo Conflict(s), conflict resolution and Munzihirwa
The music video below is in Swahili subtitled in French, but it still might be the most inspiring five minutes of your day. It is a tribute to Monsignor Christophe Munzihirwa the “elder of the council,” or “the wise one,” the one who provides advice to members of the community, sets the tone for what is acceptable behavior, and leads the community, especially the youth, by example.
Conflict resolution is sometimes a lost cause, especially if the church is not committed to it. Consider where the church is today — what are we doing to stay reconciled? What is the responsibility of Jesus followers when society breaks down?
Then the Lord said, “I have observed the misery of my people who are in Egypt; I have heard their cry on account of their taskmasters. Indeed, I know their sufferings, and I have come down to deliver them from the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land to a good and broad land, a land flowing with milk and honey, to the country of the Canaanites, the Hittites, the Amorites, the Perizzites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites. The cry of the Israelites has now come to me; I have also seen how the Egyptians oppress them. So come, I will send you to Pharaoh to bring my people, the Israelites, out of Egypt.”
But Moses said to God, “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh, and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?”
He said, “I will be with you; and this shall be the sign for you that it is I who sent you: when you have brought the people out of Egypt, you shall worship God on this mountain.” — Exodus 3:7-12
All about Simon Kimbangu (1887–1951)
The Portuguese explorer, Diogo Cao, was looking for a route to India when he sailed into the Congo River in 1482. Catholic missionaries arrived a decade later. They baptized kings and chieftains who imposed Christianity on their people, but their success was superficial. The gods of ancient ancestors continued to reign supreme. When Protestant missionaries began to arrive in the 1870s, they found a popular pagan piety lightly embellished with Christian touches, including a belief that crosses conveyed magical powers.
British Baptists came to Africa to save souls but are also known for their paternalistic and patronizing attitude toward the native people, viewing them as depraved children who needed the white man’s correctives. Simon Kimbangu was an infant when he received a blessing from a Baptist missionary. His aunt sent him to a school run by the Baptists when his parents died. He stayed for many years. He and his wife were baptized there in 1915. He became a lay preacher and evangelist there in 1918. It was at the mission that he began experiencing the visions that would change his life.
He was nearly 30 when he heard a call from God: “I am Christ. My servants are unfaithful. I have chosen you to bear witness before your brethren and to convert them. Tend my flock.” Like Moses, he argued, “I am not trained.” And like Jonah he fled his village to work in distant oil fields.
But the call hounded him. He finally returned home from the oil fields to preach the Word. The results were striking. Kimbangu became one of the African Apostles of the early 1900’s. Women gave up their pagan fetishes. Men gave up all but one of their wives. Then in 1921 the healings began. A sick woman got out of her bed and walked. A dead child was reportedly raised to life. And a blind man named Ngoma regained his sight after the prophet daubed his eyes with paste made of soil and saliva.
Soon thousands of people left their jobs and flocked to N’Kamba in Central Africa to see the Holy Spirit’s power and hear the prophet. Although his fame frightened white religious leaders and colonial government officials who suspected unorthodox theology, and feared competition, economic disruption and rebellion, Kimbangu’s message was generally both orthodox and apolitical. None of his sermons survive, but followers described him as a humble and sober man who taught submission to authorities and racial reconciliation.
Nevertheless, European missionaries resisted his efforts. One charged the prophet with unforgivable sins against Caucasian Christianity: “Kimbangu wants to found a religion which is in accord with the mentality of the African.”
Government officials acted on their fears. The first attempt to capture Kimbangu came on June 6, 1921, but the prophet escaped in a way his followers described as a miracle. Three months later, however, he voluntarily gave himself up. Charged with sedition and hostility to whites, he was sentenced to death. They punished the prophet with 120 lashes and packed him off to a solitary cell in a far-off prison, 1200 miles away in what is now Lubumbashi. They hoped that would take care of the “crackbrained” Simon Kimbangu and the gullible fanatics who followed him. But they were mistaken. Concerned Protestants had the sentence reduced to life in prison, and Kimbangu languished in the Elizabethville prison for decades, where he died.
Papa Salomon Dialungana Kiangani (1916-2001)
Solomon Dialungana, one of his three sons, said, “Just as the work of Jesus was carried on by the apostles after His death, the same was true of the prophet Simon Kimbangu.” His sons guided their father’s movement through heretical schisms and government persecution.
Officials clamped down on Kimbangu’s rapidly expanding following. They forbade them from holding public meetings, deported as many as 100,000 to distant areas of Africa, and killed as many as 150,000. “We have been forsaken by both Catholics and Protestants,” said one distraught follower. But the Kimbanguist movement kept growing. The forced deportations only spread the movement throughout the continent.
Persecuted followers poured their sorrow into hymns that were collected by the Belgian authorities: “Jesus was a prisoner,/ Jesus was smitten./ They are smiting us, too./ We, the blacks, are prisoners./ The whites are free.” Another hymn describing the armor of God was misinterpreted by colonial officials as a call for armed rebellion: “We who are carrying on our cause/ Let us be clothed and armed!/ Jesus will protect us./ Let us clothe and arm ourselves!”
Diangienda describes his father’s role in the booklet “The Beloved City”:
“Our fathers cried for a ‘chief,’ a saviour, but no saviour came, until they said in resignation that God did not know us black people. He only knew the whites. . . . The people hid from the missionaries and remained in the grasp of fetishism, of witchcraft, and of other evil practices. Then on 6 April 1921, the first miracle occurred. . . .
“Through Simon Kimbangu, who was obedient to God, the promises of Jesus have been fulfilled and the Name of the Father and the Son has been glorified. Through him the Congolese realized that God and Jesus had turned to us in mercy. The sorrow and suffering of our fathers had been heard by God the Father, and our tears were wiped away.”
Eventually, on Christmas Eve 1959, the Kimbanguist Church was recognized by the Belgian government, as equal to Catholic and Protestant and could then could conduct themselves freely. In 1969 Eglise de Jésus Christ sur la Terre par Son Envoyé Spécial Simon Kimbangu was included in the World Council of Churches.
A 2008 French news article on Kimbanguist worship:
Article: Is the Holy Spirit living in Africa? — BBC News.
MCC has a long relationship with partners in the Congo.
What do we do with this?
The followers of Simon Kimbangu learned that black lives matter in the middle of one of the most repressive colonial regime ever perpetrated on a people. He challenges us to have a voice.
In a pluralistic society like the United States, how do we work together all sorts of expressions into an indigenous whole? How do you unite instead of divide?
Pray for the Congo. The legacy of racism, slavery and colonialism have a long half-life.
Cyprian with his martyr’s crown. Mosaic in the Basilica of Sant’Apollinare Nuovo in Ravenna (Click for more info)
Bible Connection
For this reason I kneel before the Father,from whom every family in heaven and on earth derives its name.I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being,so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love,may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ,and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.
Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us,to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.
As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received.Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love.Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace.There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to one hope when you were called;one Lord, one faith, one baptism;one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all. — Ephesians 3:14-4:6
Cyprian of Carthage (ca. 200-258)
Thascius Caecilius Cyprianus was the bishop of Carthage and an early Christian writer of Berber descent. Many of his Latin writings are extant.
Cyprian was born into a wealthy family, probably in Carthage, in present-day Tunisia. He took the additional name Caecilius in memory of the pastor to whom he owed his conversion. Before then, he was a leading member of a legal fraternity, an orator, a “pleader in the courts,” and a teacher of rhetoric (persuasive communication). He came to faith as an adult, being baptized when he was thirty-five years old.
When I was still lying in darkness and gloomy night, I used to regard it as extremely difficult and demanding to do what God’s mercy was suggesting to me… I myself was held in bonds by the innumerable errors of my previous life, from which I did not believe I could possibly be delivered, so I was disposed to acquiesce in my clinging vices and to indulge my sins… But after that, with the help of the water of new birth, the stain of my former life was washed away, and a light from above, serene and pure, was infused into my reconciled heart… a second birth restored me to a new man. Then, in a wondrous manner, every doubt began to fade… I clearly understood that what had first lived within me, enslaved by the vices of the flesh, was earthly and that what, instead, the Holy Spirit had wrought within me was divine and heavenly.
Not long after his baptism he was ordained a deacon and soon afterwards a priest (presbyter/elder). Sometime between July 248 and April 249, he was elected bishop of Carthage. That was a popular choice among the poor who remembered his generosity. However, his rapid rise did not meet with the approval of some senior members of the church leaders in Carthage.
Not long after Cyprian became bishop, a great crisis for the Church arose. Emperor Decius (249–251) issued a decree in 250 that all citizens must perform public sacrifice to the Roman gods. But for Christians, to offer sacrifices—sprinkling incense before a statue of the god or goddess—was idolatry. In fact it was apostasy, the denial or betrayal of Christ. Some Christians refused to sacrifice and were imprisoned or executed.
Potentially Novatian
Cyprian avoided martyrdom by going into hiding. He directed church affairs in secret. After the persecution died down, he faced a great pastoral question: what to do with the “lapsed” Christians, the ones who had performed the required sacrifice but who now wanted to be welcomed back as upright members of the Christian community. Some church leaders believed performing the sacrifice was unforgivable. Others were willing to accept the repentance of the lapsed and take them back into communion. Cyprian wanted to wait for a council of all the North African bishops to discuss the question. But a presbyter from North Africa named Novatian, who was one of the premier theologians at the time, teaching in Rome, refused his guidance. He and his allies began issuing letters of pardon according to their very strict idea of permanent penance, causing division in the church. Novatian had refused to sacrifice and was imprisoned. He claimed the way he endured persecution gave him the authority to forgive (or not). Some people think his attitude makes him the first Protestant.
During the Decian persecution, Pope Fabian was martyred. The persecution was so fierce it was impossible to elect a successor, so the papal seat remained vacant for a year. During this period the church was governed by several presbyters, including Novatian. When it became possible to confer, the bishops elected a moderate, Cornelius, to be Pope, overlooking Novatian. His faction persisted with a more rigorous position than Cornelius, and consecrated Novatian as pope in 251. He is known as the first anti-pope, competing with the duly-elected one, seating alternative bishops and sending out papal letters. He was excommunicated shortly afterwards, but the schismatic church he established persisted for several centuries.
In the Easter season of 251, when the council finally met, Cyprian’s address to it did not focus on the lapsed, but on the division Novatian created; it survives as On the Unity of the Catholic Church. Cyprian argued that, although the devil wages external war on the church through persecution, the more dangerous threat comes from the deceptive war he wages through heresy and division. Although made up of many individual congregations, the church is one: “The Church, bathed in the light of the Lord, spreads her rays throughout the world, yet the light everywhere diffused is one light and the unity of the body is not broken.”
For Cyprian the universal church’s unity was not a mere aspiration, but a fundamental reality. And how could one identify the one true church? He found the answer in the doctrine of apostolic succession, arguing that the authority to forgive sins, preach the gospel, and govern the church given to a bishop at ordination is ultimately derived from Christ and the apostles. Since Christ gave the authority to forgive sins to Peter and the other apostles, the only bishops who had that authority were those who received it in the line of apostolic succession. Those who claimed to be bishops outside this authority did not have the power to forgive sins. Since Novatian and his fellow leaders had set themselves up in authority rather than being consecrated as bishops at the hands of other bishops in the line of succession, he did not have the true authority of a bishop and certainly not as the pope.
Ultimately, the North African bishops sided with Cyprian. They allowed the lapsed back into communion if they sincerely repented, though at first those who had participated in heathen sacrifices were only allowed back upon their deathbed. Lapsed clergy could not resume their functions. Novatian’s fate is unknown. He may have died in the outbreak of terror that came under the next Emperor.
As if enough were not going on, about this time a plague spread through the Empire. One of the reasons we know about it is Cyprian’s writings. In De Mortatiltate he writes:
This trial, that now the bowels, relaxed into a constant flux, discharge the bodily strength; that a fire originated in the marrow ferments into wounds of the fauces; that the intestines are shaken with a continual vomiting; that the eyes are on fire with the injected blood; that in some cases the feet or some parts of the limbs are taken off by the contagion of diseased putrefaction; that from the weakness arising by the maiming and loss of the body, either the gait is enfeebled, or the hearing is obstructed, or the sight darkened;–is profitable as a proof of faith. What a grandeur of spirit it is to struggle with all the powers of an unshaken mind against so many onsets of devastation and death! what sublimity, to stand erect amid the desolation of the human race, and not to lie prostrate with those who have no hope in God; but rather to rejoice, and to embrace the benefit of the occasion; that in thus bravely showing forth our faith, and by suffering endured, going forward to Christ by the narrow way that Christ trod, we may receive the reward of His life and faith according to His own judgment!”
In 256 persecution resumed under the new emperor, Valerian. Pope Sixtus II was executed in Rome. In Africa, Cyprian prepared his people for the expected edict of persecution by his letter to them: De exhortatione martyrii. He also set an example for them, personally, when he was brought before the Roman proconsul in 257. He refused to sacrifice to the Roman deities and firmly expressed his faith.
The proconsul banished him to Curubis, now Korba. When a year had passed, he was recalled and kept under house arrest. A more stringent imperial edict arrived, which demanded the execution of Christian leaders. In September of 258, Cyprian was imprisoned on the orders of the new proconsul. His public examination has been preserved:
Galerius Maximus: “Are you Thascius Cyprianus?” Cyprian: “I am.” Galerius: “The most sacred Emperors have commanded you to conform to the Roman rites.” Cyprian: “I refuse.” Galerius: “Take heed for yourself.” Cyprian: “Do as you are bid; in so clear a case I may not take heed.” Galerius, after briefly conferring with his judicial council, with much reluctance pronounced the following sentence: “You have long lived an irreligious life, and have drawn together a number of men bound by an unlawful association, and professed yourself an open enemy to the gods and the religion of Rome; and the pious, most sacred and august Emperors … have endeavored in vain to bring you back to conformity with their religious observances; whereas therefore you have been apprehended as principal and ringleader in these infamous crimes, you shall be made an example to those whom you have wickedly associated with you; the authority of law shall be ratified in your blood.” He then read the sentence of the court from a written tablet: “It is the sentence of this court that Thascius Cyprianus be executed with the sword.” Cyprian: “Thanks be to God.”
The execution was carried out at once in an open place near the city. A huge crowd followed in Cyprian’s final steps. He blindfolded himself before he was beheaded.
More
Nice video from the Orthodox side of the one Church
A somewhat different view of Cyprian’s life from the Franciscans [link].
St. Cyprian Church on 63rd St. in Philadelphia [link].
What do we do with this?
Like in Cyprian’s time, the church in the U.S. recently went through a plague then got in a fight over stringency and leniency. Only in our time some think it is apostasy to jettison the faith handed down by the hierarchy regarding sexuality and others think the unity of the church depends on grace that transcends the teaching of men. What would Cyprian do?
In Cyprian’s time, the Church was finding a way to organize as it grew and needed to hold together. We can’t be too thrilled he came up with apostolic succession, since it has regularly been abused. The theory ended up being about the power of violence and not inspiration. But there is some basic Bible teaching associated with it (John 20:21, Matthew 18:15-18). At least Cyprian knew his authority was not just to rule but to die, like Jesus.
Cyprian’s two great contributions are 1) an attempt to be generous, but firm, and 2) talking about the big picture instead of getting tangled in an immediate, personality-driven conflict. He also put his life on the line to lead. People who aspire to exercise power, take note.
…unless your righteousness exceeds the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees, you will by no means enter the kingdom of heaven. —Matthew 5:20
All about Lilias Trotter (1853-1928)
Lilias Trotterhas been recently reintroduced to our century through the documentary, Many Beautiful Things, which depicts her life and vision.
Trotter was born in England in 1853 to an upper-middle-class family. She was a gifted artist and was told she could be England’s greatest living artist, but in order to do so, she would have to give herself totally to her art. At the same time, Lilias had a growing faith which encouraged her not only in her personal spiritual growth, but also in service to others.
Trotter felt the call from God to go to North Africa and serve the Lord there. She thought she had to choose between pursuing her career as an artist and answering the call God had placed on her heart. She chose to follow God. As a single woman who was denied support from a mission agency because of health issues and who didn’t know the language or culture, going to Africa was a radical decision.
Here’s a peek at her life story. Lilias Trotter’s father died when she was twelve. She was devastated. Fortunately, the family’s financial circumstances were only comparatively diminished by his loss. When the family moved to 40 Montagu Square, their next-door neighbor was writer Anthony Trollope.
In her early twenties, Trotter and her mother were greatly influenced by the Higher Life Movement, and Lilias joined the volunteer force that counseled inquirers during the London campaign meetings of American evangelist Dwight L. Moody.
Trotter’s mother thought her self-taught daughter was an exceptional artistic talent. In 1876, she sent some of Lilias’ drawings to art critic and social philosopher John Ruskin while all three were staying in Venice—the latter while recovering from the early death of Rose La Touche, a young pupil to whom he had proposed marriage. Ruskin praised Trotter’s artistic skill, and she became an informal student and a good friend despite the disparity in their ages. Ruskin told Trotter that if she would devote herself to her art “she would be the greatest living painter and do things that would be Immortal.”
Although Trotter was drawn to the prospect of a life in art, in May 1879, she decided that she could not give herself “to painting and continue still to ‘seek first the Kingdom of God and His Righteousness.’” Trotter became active in the Welbeck Street YWCA and served as secretary, “a voluntary position usually filled by women like herself from wealthy families.” She did a considerable amount of teaching and (unusually for respectable young women of the period) fearlessly canvassed the streets alone at night near Victoria Station for prostitutes who might be persuaded to train for an employable skill or to simply spend a night in a hostel. In 1884, suffering from physical and emotional exhaustion, she underwent surgery which, though “slight in nature…left her very ill.” Apparently her heart was permanently damaged in the process.
During the next few years, Trotter felt an impulse toward missionary work in non-Christian lands, even telling one of her friends that “whenever she prayed, the words ‘North Africa’ sounded in her soul as though a voice were calling her.” In May 1887, when a missionary to North Africa asked at a religious meeting if God was calling anyone to North Africa, Trotter rose and said, “He is calling me.” On her thirty-fourth birthday, she applied as a candidate to the North African Mission—which then rejected her because she was unable to pass its health examination. However, because she had the resources to be self-supporting, the Mission decided that she might “work in harmony” with the society without being an official member.
Nine months later, Trotter and two other financially independent women—including Blanche Haworth, who for more than thirty years played “Martha” to Trotter’s “Mary,” arrived in Algiers. Trotter recalled, “Three of us stood there, looking at our battle-field, none of us fit to pass a doctor for any society, not knowing a soul in the place, or a sentence of Arabic or a clue for beginning work on untouched ground; we only knew we had to come. Truly if God needed weakness, He had it!”
The women moved into the French quarter and diligently studied Arabic through French study materials and eventually through a professional tutor. They also learned how do domestic work, all of them previously having had their needs met by servants.
Later Trotter said that the early years were like “knocking our heads against stone walls,” but the women were indefatigable, trying one technique after another in an attempt to make inroads into the Algerian culture and all the while improving their Arabic. Eventually Trotter was able to gain access to the heavily secluded women by first befriending their children. The outreach to women, she believed, was a “great line of cleavage in the rock face of Islam.”
Converts were banished, beaten, even (Trotter believed) poisoned with “mind drugs” that were to be administered in food or drink and would produce “a paralysis of mind and will.” Many converts died, and Trotter “came to rejoice in their loss. ‘We were glad to let them go….One draws a breath of relief when they get safe home [to heaven].’”
Trotter’s health was so seriously impaired that she regularly spent extended periods of convalescence in Great Britain or on the continent. Adding to the difficulties of the English missionaries was French colonial suspicion of their activities. The local government bought a house across the street and for three years lured potential converts away with competing classes. Spies and gendarmes even followed the women into the southern desert and threatened fines and imprisonment for any who went near them or accepted their literature.
An illustration from Trotter’s Parables of the Cross.
By 1906, with warming relations between England and France, Trotter experienced less governmental antagonism and more freedom for her missionary work. In 1907 five new workers joined the “Algiers Mission Band.” By 1920, there were thirty full-time workers and fifteen preaching stations. Trotter became the reluctant, but unchallenged, leader of the group. Trotter was sensitive to the contemporary difficulty of a woman exerting authority over a man, but as the staff included more men, she shrewdly refined “the organizational system to capitalize on their leadership.” Trotter never solicited funds because she said God’s wealth was boundless.
Trotter was also a pioneer in attempting to adapt Christian missionary endeavor to the Algerian culture. Referring to evangelistic meetings as a “European idea,” she proposed evangelizing with “a native cafe on a Christian footing,” readings of the Bible in a “rhythmical recitative” accompanied by a drum, a craft house that would teach little girls embroidery, and a Christian retreat for women to “take the place of the outings to shrines which are their only chance of fresh air.” Trotter designed cards that had biblical passages drawn by an Arab scribe because “no one but a native can give the subtle lines & curves of the writing as they should be.” The mission society even published a series of cards with a sentence from the Koran followed by verses from the Old Testament.
While Lilias turned her back on fame, she did not turn her back on her art. In addition to art found in her journals, she used her art in the pamphlets she created to share the gospel with the people in Algeria. Trotter was a “prodigious writer,” filling a journal page nearly every day for forty years and illustrating the world around her with sketches and watercolors. From these efforts came several books of somewhat flowery and mystical prose, including Parables of the Cross and Parables of the Christ-life. Though she considered orthodox Islam “dry as the dune, hard as the gravel,” she responded to the “sincere hunger for things of the spirit” in the Sufi mystics and wrote for them The Way of the Sevenfold Secret as a devotional guide based on the seven “I am” statements found in the Gospel of John.
Confined to bed during her last years, Trotter devoted herself to prayer, writing, and sketching while continuing to manage the affairs of the Algiers Mission Band as best she could. As her body failed, her mind remained clear, even at the end asking prayer for the strength to dictate a letter to Amy Carmichael of India, with whom she had regular correspondence. As she was dying, while attendants sang a hymn, she exclaimed, “A chariot and six horses.” “You are seeing beautiful things,” someone asked. “Yes,” she said, “many, many beautiful things.”
Trotter was inspired by the higher life of notable Christians. Perhaps you will be inspired by her.
Trotter loved those who were marginalized. She ministered among the prostitutes in London and lived among the poor of Algiers, ministering with women and children. One Algerian woman shared this about her: “No one loved us like she did.” Lilias writes in her journal, “I have been thinking lately what a work for God it is just loving people.” In our current cultural climate of hatred for the ‘other’, we have an opportunity to be people of love, not hate. To overcome evil with good.
She had courage to take risks, following where God was leading her.Her choices were radical, defying concern from friends and societal expectations. She served the Lord alone.
She was willing to turn her back on everything she knew and what was familiar and comfortable to follow God. She was willing to leave behind comforts, friends, culture, language, and fame. This is no different for people today who choose to follow Christ. It costs them everything.
She recognized that her gift as an artist was from God; it wasn’t her own doing. While we might think we are where we are today because of our own abilities, in reality it is God who decided which time period, family, country, and gifts were given to us. We are simply stewards of all that we have and are to use our gifts for God’s glory and to further His kingdom.
She engaged in cross-cultural ministry by listening and learning from the people. She respected their culture. She did not come to the people with a paternalistic mindset; rather, she came as a fellow traveler in life and as a learner. She met physical needs as well as spiritual needs. She was driven to share the love of Christ with whomever she met.
When they had brought them, they had them stand before the council. The high priest questioned them, saying, “We gave you strict orders not to teach in this name, yet here you have filled Jerusalem with your teaching and you are determined to bring this man’s blood on us.” But Peter and the apostles answered, “We must obey God rather than any human authority.The God of our ancestors raised up Jesus, whom you had killed by hanging him on a tree. God exalted him at his right hand as Leader and Savior that he might give repentance to Israel and forgiveness of sins. And we are witnesses to these things, and so is the Holy Spirit whom God has given to those who obey him.” — Acts 4:17-32
All about Kizito (1872-1886)
Kizito* was the youngest of the Ugandan martyrs who suffered death rather than renounce his faith on June 3rd, 1886. The Ugandan Martyrs refer to a group of forty-five Christians – twenty-two Catholics and twenty-three Anglicans – who were tortured and killed over a period stretching from 1885 to 1887 for their faith. Christians were persecuted by Mwanda, the Kabaka (ruler) during this period. Bugandan territory is now incorporated into the Republic of Uganda.
Priests belonging to the Missionaries in Africa, commonly referred to as the White Fathers (due to their white habits), arrived in Uganda in 1879. Their mission was met with little resistance at first as they shared their faith among the people of Buganda. That changed when the Kabaka, Mutesa, died and was succeeded by his son, Mwanga. Mwanga viewed Christianity as a threat to his power.
The Christian views on morality – especially the teaching that pedophilia was a sin – did not endear them to Mwanda, who was a pedophile and routinely solicited sexual favors from his young pages. His chief page, Joseph Mukasa was a Catholic who did his best to protect his young charges. He even had the courage and conviction to confront Mwanga and insist he give up his sinful ways. Mwanga’s response was to have him beheaded.
Joseph Mukasa was succeeded as chief page by Charles Lwanga who also was a Catholic and who also was vigorous in his protection of the young pages. Mwanga became increasingly enraged as the pages, Kizito among them, continually refused and rebuffed his sexual advances. Mwanga eventually had the pages brought before him and gave them a choice to renounce their Christian faith and live or choose to keep their faith and die.
Many of the pages including Charles Lwanga and Kizito chose their faith. There were fifteen in the group who were bound and made to walk two days to Namugongo where they would be killed. One of the Christians, Matthias Kalemba, was martyred enroute.
Upon reaching Namugongo, Charles Lwanga was the first to be burned at the stake. The following is a moving excerpt taken from the Catholic News agency:
The executioners slowly burnt his feet until only the charred remained. Still alive, they promised him that they would let him go if he renounced his faith. He refused saying, “You are burning me, but it is as if you are pouring water over my body.” He then continued to pray silently as they set him on fire.
The other pages were burned alive together. As they were being executed, their faith remained strong until the end, as they prayed and sang hymns.
The death of these martyrs had quite the opposite effect the Kabaka intended. Many witnessing the horrific deaths of these amazing young men who gave their young lives so willingly for their faith asked to be baptized.
* This description of Bugandan kinship structure may be unfamiliar to you if you grew up in the United States. Kizito’s birth father was Lukomera of the Lungfish (Mamba) Clan, and his mother, who bore Lukomera nine children before she deserted him and died, was Wanga¬bira of the Civet-cat (Ffumbe) Clan. Nyika, or Nyikomuyonga, Guardian of Mwanga’s umbilical cord, often said to be the father of Kizito, was his father by adoption only. The relationship arose from a blood-pact between Nyika’s father Kiggwe and a member of the Lungfish Clan named Mitalekoya. Kiggwe, a descendent of Kabaka (King) Kateregga and a member of the Leopard (Ngo) Clan, was county chief of Ggomba when he made this alliance. Later he incurred the royal displeasure, was deprived of his office and possessions and became virtually an outlaw, because he was out of favor with the Kabaka. In this time of adversity, the blood-pact stood him in good stead. Because of it, the Lungfish Clan gave him and his family asylum and aid, and Mitalekoya became a second father to his son Nyika.
The church in Uganda remains attentive to sexuality. That seems predictable, since some of its foundation is resistance to sexual predators. Most contexts prove dangerous for Christians, if not everyone. What is prowling around like a lion, as Peter sees it, trying to devour your heart and soul?
The main pressure the King of Buganda felt in the time of Kizito was from colonizers. The French Catholics and English Anglicans were in league with their respective country’s rush to “protect” areas of Africa. Muslim traders were eager to have fortified trading posts and a beachhead for Islam. Evangelism coupled with colonization is one of the stains on Christian history. Like Joseph told his brothers, “You meant it for evil but God used it for good.” Africa is now the continent with the most Christians. Have you experienced or done anything evil that God used for good? Praise God for the goodness, and consider what justice and forgiveness mean to you.
See to it that no one takes you captive through philosophy and empty deceit, according to human tradition, according to the elemental spirits of the universe, and not according to Christ. For in him the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily, and you have come to fullness in him, who is the head of every ruler and authority. In him also you were circumcised with a spiritual circumcision, by putting off the body of the flesh in the circumcision of Christ; when you were buried with him in baptism, you were also raised with him through faith in the power of God, who raised him from the dead. And when you were dead in trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh, God made you alive together with him, when he forgave us all our trespasses, erasing the record that stood against us with its legal demands. He set this aside, nailing it to the cross. He disarmed the rulers and authorities and made a public example of them, triumphing over them in it. — Colossians 2:8-15
All about Athanasius of Alexandria (c. 296 – c. 373)
“Those who maintain ‘There was a time when the Son was not’ rob God of his Word, like plunderers.”
Athanasius of Alexandria became the 20th bishop of Alexandria. His on-again-off-again service in that role spanned 45 years. Seventeen of those years were served in exile, when four different Roman emperors ordered his replacement. Athanasius was a Christian theologian, a Church Father, the chief defender of Trinitarianism against Arianism, and a noted Egyptian leader of the fourth century.
Conflict with Arius and Arianism, as well as successive Roman emperors, shaped Athanasius’ career. At the age of 27, he took a leading role against the Arians as a deacon and assistant to Bishop Alexander of Alexandria during the First Council of Nicaea. Roman emperor Constantine the Great convened the council to address the Arian position that the Son of God, Jesus of Nazareth, is of a distinct substance from the Father.
Three years after that council, Athanasius succeeded his mentor as archbishop of Alexandria. In addition to the conflict with the Arians, he struggled against the Emperors Constantine, Constantius II, Julian the Apostate and Valens. He was known as Athanasius Contra Mundum (Latin for Athanasius Against the World). “Black Dwarf” was the tag his enemies gave him — the short, dark-skinned, Egyptian bishop had plenty of enemies. In the end, his theological enemies were “exiled” from orthodoxy, and it is Athanasius’ writings that shaped the future of the church. Within a few years after his death, Gregory of Nazianzus called him the “Pillar of the Church.”
Most his enemies were earned by his stubborn insistence that Arianism, the reigning “orthodoxy” of the day, was in fact a heresy. The dispute began when Athanasius was the chief deacon in Alexandria. While his mentor, Alexander preached with philosophical exactitude on the Trinity, Arius, a presbyter from Libya announced, “If the Father begat the Son, then he who was begotten had a beginning in existence, and from this it follows there was a time when the Son was not.” The argument caught on, but Alexander and Athanasius fought against Arius, arguing that it denied the Trinity. Christ is not of a like substance to God, they argued, but the same substance.
To Athanasius this was not splitting theological hairs. Salvation was at issue. Only one who was fully human could atone for human sin; only one who was fully divine could have the power to save us. To Athanasius, the logic of New Testament doctrine of salvation assumed the dual nature of Christ. Alexander’s encyclical letter, signed by Athanasius (and possibly written by him), attacked the consequences of the Arian heresy. If it were true:
“The Son [then,] is a creature and a work; neither is he like in essence to the Father; neither is he the true and natural Word of the Father; neither is he his true wisdom; but he is one of the things made and created and is called the Word and Wisdom by an abuse of terms… Wherefore he is by nature subject to change and variation, as are all rational creatures.”
The controversy spread, and all over the empire, Christians could be heard singing a catchy tune that championed the Arian view: “There was a time when the Son was not.” In every city, wrote a historian, “bishop was contending against bishop, and the people were contending against one another, like swarms of gnats fighting in the air.”
Word of the dispute made it to the newly converted Emperor Constantine the Great, who was more concerned with seeing church unity than theological truth. “Division in the church,” he told the bishops, “is worse than war.” To settle the matter, he called a council of bishops.
Of the 1,800 bishops invited to Nicea, about 300 came—and argued, fought, and eventually fleshed out an early version of the Nicene Creed. The council, led by Alexander, condemned Arius as a heretic, exiled him, and made it a capital offense to possess his writings. Constantine was pleased that peace had been restored to the church. Athanasius, whose treatise On the Incarnation laid the foundation for the orthodox party at Nicea, was hailed as “the noble champion of Christ.”
But the Arian heresy did not die out. Within a few months, supporters of Arius talked Constantine into ending Arius’ exile. With a few private additions, Arius even signed the Nicene Creed, and the emperor ordered Athanasius, who had recently succeeded Alexander as bishop, to restore the heretic to fellowship. When Athanasius refused, his enemies spread false charges against him. He was accused of murder, illegal taxation, sorcery, and treason—the last of which led Constantine to exile him to Trier, now a German city near Luxembourg.
Constantine died two years later, and Athanasius returned to Alexandria. But in his absence, Arianism had gained the upper hand. Now church leaders were against him, and they banished him again. Athanasius fled to Pope Julius I in Rome. He returned in 346, but in the mercurial politics of the day, was banished three more times before he came home to stay in 366. By then he was about 70 years old.
While in exile, Athanasius spent most of his time writing, mostly to defend orthodoxy, but he took on pagan and Jewish opposition as well. One of his most lasting contributions is his Life of St. Ant[h]ony, which helped to shape the Christian ideal of monasticism. The book is filled with tales of Antony’s encounters with the devil, yet Athanasius wrote, “Do not be incredulous about what you hear of him… Consider, rather that from them only a few of his feats have been learned.” In fact, the bishop knew the monk personally, and this saint’s biography is one of the most historically reliable. It became an early “bestseller” and made a deep impression on many people, even helping lead pagans to conversion — Augustine of Hippo is the most famous example.
During Athanasius’s first year permanently back in Alexandria, he sent his annual letter to the churches in his diocese, called a festal letter. Such letters were used to fix the dates of festivals such as Lent and Easter, and to discuss matters of general interest. In this letter, Athanasius listed what he believed were the books that should constitute the New Testament: “In these [27 writings] alone the teaching of godliness is proclaimed,” he wrote. “No one may add to them, and nothing may be taken away from them.” Though other such lists had been and would still be proposed, it is Athanasius’ list that the church eventually adopted, and the writings he listed make up the New Testament.
Quotes:
“Christians, instead of arming themselves with swords, extend their hands in prayer.”
“The holy and inspired Scriptures are sufficient of themselves for the preaching of the truth.”
“Jesus became what we are that he might make us what he is.”
“You cannot put straight in others what is warped in yourself.”
“Similarly, anyone who wishes to understand the mind of the sacred writers must first cleanse his own life, and approach the saints by copying their deeds.”
“For, indeed, everything about is marvelous, and wherever a man turns his gaze he sees the Godhead of the Word and is smitten with awe.”
“The presence and love of the Word had called them into being; inevitably, therefore when they lost the knowledge of God, they lost existence with it; for it is God alone Who exists, evil is non-being, the negation and antithesis of good.”
“For of what use is existence to the creature if it cannot know its Maker?”
“The Greek philosophers have compiled many works with persuasiveness and much skill in words; but what fruit have they to show for this such as has the cross of Christ? Their wise thoughts were persuasive enough until they died.”
“Even on the cross he did not hide himself from sight; rather, he made all creation witness to the presence of its Maker.”
Athanasius is also known as the “father of orthodoxy.” He helped refine doctrines that set the baseline for true faith and set the final parameters on the New Testament. He was fighting for the church’s life in a time when the government wanted to exploit it and society was absorbing it according to its own image. Nothing is new under the sun.
What do you think the Lord would like you to fight for in this era? What truth is threatened? What necessity is being watered down or lost? If we want to leave a coherent faith for the next generation, what should we do?
Constantine thought Arius should be reinstated after he “signed” the Nicene Creed. But Athanasius was not ready to love his enemy if the enemy was trying to wiggle his way back into orthodoxy with a few caveats. Even though Athanasius holds the line, Arianism does not die out. It becomes the main designation for the Christianity of the “East.” Some form of it is what Persians, Mongols and Chinese adopt. From the 4th century on, protecting the metaphysics of God is an occupation that divides the church and changes the character of Christian faith, now organized under political goals and power struggles. You probably have an idea of what is “true” in general and what is true about Jesus. Can you summarize it? Dare you investigate it?
When he opened the fifth seal, I saw under the altar the souls of those who had been slaughtered for the word of God and for the testimony they had given; they cried out with a loud voice, “Sovereign Lord, holy and true, how long will it be before you judge and avenge our blood on the inhabitants of the earth?” They were each given a white robe and told to rest a little longer, until the number would be complete both of their fellow servants and of their brothers and sisters, who were soon to be killed as they themselves had been killed. — Revelation 6:9-11
All about Perpetua (c. 182-c.203) and Felicitas
We have little idea what brought Perpetua to faith in Christ, or how long she had been a Christian, or how she lived her Christian life. Thanks to her diary, and that of another prisoner, we have some idea of her last days—an ordeal that so impressed the famous Augustine that he preached four sermons about her death.
Perpetua was a Christian noblewoman who, at the turn of the third century, lived with her husband, her son, and her slave, Felicitas, in Carthage (the ruins are a suburb of Tunis, today). At this time, North Africa was the center of a vibrant Christian community. Emperor Septimius Severus may have believed Christianity and there is doubt about the tradition that he fomented persecution in North Africa. The hostility to Jesus followers that broke out was probably a local issue. Among the first to be arrested were five new Christians taking classes to prepare for baptism, one of whom was Perpetua.
Her father immediately came to her in prison. He was a pagan, and he saw an easy way for Perpetua to save herself. He begged her to simply deny she was a Christian:
“Father do you see this vase here?” she replied. “Could it be called by any other name than what it is?”
“No,” he replied.
“Well, neither can I be called anything other than what I am, a Christian.”
All this was recorded in her own hand and later formed into a book you can still read, that includes an account of another victim. The Passion of Saints Perpetua and Felicity (Latin: Passio sanctarum Perpetuae et Felicitatis) describes her imprisonment as a Christian in 203, completed after her death by a redactor. It is one of the oldest and most illustrative early Christian texts.
In the next days, Perpetua was moved to a better part of the prison and allowed to breast-feed her child. With her appearance before the authorities approaching, her father visited again, this time, pleading more passionately: “Have pity on my gray head. Have pity on me, your father, if I deserve to be called your father, if I have favored you above all your brothers, if I have raised you to reach this prime of your life.”
He threw himself down before her and kissed her hands. “Do not abandon me to be the reproach of men. Think of your brothers; think of your mother and your aunt; think of your child, who will not be able to live once you are gone. Give up your pride!”
Perpetua was touched but remained unshaken. She tried to comfort her father—”It will all happen in the prisoner’s dock as God wills, for you may be sure that we are not left to ourselves but are all in his power”—but he walked out of the prison dejected.
The day of the hearing arrived, Perpetua and her friends were marched before the governor, Hilarianus. Perpetua’s friends were questioned first, and each in turn admitted to being a Christian, and each in turn refused to make a sacrifice (an act of emperor worship). Then the governor turned to question Perpetua.
At that moment, her father, carrying Perpetua’s son in his arms, burst into the room. He grabbed Perpetua and pleaded, “Perform the sacrifice. Have pity on your baby!” Hilarianus, probably wishing to avoid the unpleasantness of executing a mother who still suckled a child, added, “Have pity on your father’s gray head; have pity on your infant son. Offer the sacrifice for the welfare of the emperor.”
Perpetua replied simply: “I will not.”
“Are you a Christian then?” asked the governor.
“Yes I am,” Perpetua replied.
Her father interrupted again, begging her to sacrifice, but Hilarianus had heard enough: he ordered soldiers to beat him into silence. He then condemned Perpetua and her friends to die in the arena.
Perpetua, her friends, and her slave, Felicitas (who had subsequently been arrested), were dressed in belted tunics. When they entered the stadium, wild beasts and gladiators roamed the arena floor, and in the stands, crowds roared to see blood. They didn’t have to wait long.
Immediately a wild cow charged the group. Perpetua was tossed into the air and onto her back. She sat up, adjusted her ripped tunic, and walked over to help Felicitas. Then a leopard was let loose, and it wasn’t long before the tunics of the Christians were stained with blood.
The process was too slow for the impatient crowd, which began calling for death for the Christians. So Perpetua, Felicitas, and friends were lined up, and one by one, were slain by the sword.
In his book The Patient Ferment of the Early Church, Alan Kreider tries to understand how Perpetua (and othes with her) made such a big impression on many who saw her — their guard became a Jesus follower!
Perpetua’s authoritative influence lay not only in their visions; it lay in the lives that embodied the visions. … [The formation of their way of life and demeanor came] through the recitation of certain phrases that people can repeat day by day, and especially when they are in toruble. …The phrase “I am a Christian” has tremendous importance…[It connotes] an entire way of life, an entire value system, that was fundamentally contrary to the way of life embodied in the amphitheater (p. 50).
The state murders did not offend the crowd, but the way the Christians showed their alternativity impressive hundreds.
The story told as a seven-minute episode on Dateline:
What do we do with this?
John the Revealer sees the blood of the martyrs as the seeds of the church. The willingness of Perpetua and her newly-converted friends to die rather than worship the Emperor (and the Empire complex), is the signature act that validates the possibility of faith and transformation for those dominated by Rome. Notably, their community in death transcends class. For race-dominated, Eurocentric Christians, it is noteworthy to consider that they were Africans.
Is martyrdom dead? Is your Christianity all locked within your personal identity? Does it intersect with the Empire in which you live? Have you already recanted when asked to worship the “emperor?” These young women ask us important questions with their courage, faith and deaths.
