A young priest of my acquaintance wrote his master's dissertation on the spirituality of the early Roman martyrs.
By abbreviating the junior clergyman's years of research and revision into a single sentence, it might be said that the martyrs went to their dreadful deaths with a smile on their faces. The martyrs of that early era were so convinced of the reality of the afterlife, so sure of their heavenly reward, so thrilled with the promise of resurrection, that the horror of a cruel death by the sword, or in the amphitheater, or at the stake vanished before the prospect of eternity. Joy at meeting Christ consumed them long before the flames did. Their memorable fortitude was grounded in their belief that inevitably heaven lay ahead.
Recently a Presbyterian minister, father of 10 children no less, spoke at Providence College, again analyzing the deepest thoughts of the early Christian martyrs. This professor ventured that it was not only the thought of a heavenly reward that fortified the first ill-fated Christians but also their hope of vindication for their sufferings even in this life. And such justification, such validation for their agonies, came with the conversion of the Roman Emperor Constantine and the legitimation and exaltation of the church within the Roman Empire. God who had intervened in history at the time of Moses and at the incarnation of Jesus Christ would surely intervene again to prove that the sufferings of the Christian community were not in vain but would accomplish the glory of God even in this life. Some modern authors view the conversion of Constantine and the elevation of church status within the empire as a disastrous turn of events leading to all the church and state controversies that have plagued Western history and continue to our own day. Constantine's blessing is viewed as a curse, immersing the church in 16 centuries of politics, materialism, and privilege. No so for the martyrs. The martyrs anticipated not only a happy ending to history but a happy era within history. As the prophet Ezekiel writes in this Sunday's first reading, "And all the trees of the field shall know that I, the Lord, bring low the high tree, lift high the lowly tree, wither up the green tree, and make the withered tree bloom. As I, the Lord, have spoken, so will I do." Hope for a reversal of fortune, strengthened by the promises of God, fortified the martyrs in their moment of distress.
St. Paul, also a martyr, writes this Sunday to the Corinthians, "Brothers and sisters: We are always courageous." And indeed St. Paul is a model of Christian courage and determination, never afraid to list the sufferings, setbacks and slights that he endured for the name of Christ. Yet, as might be expected and as Archbishop Gomez of San Antonio observes in his recent book “Men of Brave Heart,” the supreme example of Christian courage and fortitude is Christ. Clearly Christ suffered valiantly as a martyr on the cross bearing witness both to the promises of the next world and to the work of God in this world. Christ's entire life was a witness not just to heaven's eternal rewards or history's providential events but, more important, to the centrality of God the Father. Not just on the cross but, at every point in his life, Jesus divested himself of every earthly resource in order to trust fully and uniquely in his Father. Jesus was born into the obscure Jewish nationality and lived in Galilee, a minorprovince of that nationality. He was numbered among a humbled and occupied people. He was neither a Pharisee nor a priest, and generally shunned Jerusalem, the seat of political power. His associates were rural Galileans, not particularly worldly-wise and far from influential. He curried no favor with the Greek or Roman world. Aside from the eye of faith, Christ died a failure, abandoned by friends, mocked by enemies. It took great courage to die a failure. After all, Christ's work had just begun and he would have to trust in the Father and the infant church to complete his mission. So he ceded all control to the Father and to the church. This was not easy. It took great fortitude. His was a true martyrdom.
Christ was a genuine martyr, a true witness. He came into this world to reveal the Father, to bear witness to the Father and to lead all men to the Father. He accomplished this by trusting solely and exclusively in the fatherhood of God, abandoning every human resource. Christ was truly a martyr for the cause and the prime example of fortitude for all believers who follow him in difficult times.
