Looking at Persecution Again.

 Persecution of Christians is nothing new.  It began with Stephen and has waxed and waned for 20 centuries.  For those of us who grew up toward the end of the cold war, persecution of the church was just one more aspect of the evils of communism.  We knew something about it, but it was little spoken of, if at all.  But in our life time two realities seem to have brought persecution more to the forefront.  First, is the simultaneous decline of the west with the rise of a purer form of Islam*.  Second, is the exponential growth of the information technology sector.  The first meant that the protection afforded, by force of the nation state, for Christians gave way to the state persecution of Islamic culture. 

The second meant that almost anyone (Islamic or not) who was willing to be outrageous could hold a worldwide stage.  The attention garnered by Christians being beheaded assures that the message of Islam of “submit” is heard loud and clear.  You are reading this online.  Which means there is a high probability that you have received a Facebook post, email, Instagram, or other digital notification or pictures about the atrocities of the murder of Christians, even Christian children.

For me the murder of Christians, especially children, provokes strong emotions.  I grow furious that no one in a position of power is doing much about it.  The actions of government feel weak and, at times, seem complicit.   If given to my emotional reaction, I have flights of fantasy.  But these flights of fancy are not very becoming.  They usually involve Hiroshima type solutions.  In short, as the poster caption says, “I’ll see your Jihad and raise you a Crusade.”  I’m not going to debate or argue for or against neither the Crusades, nor the role of the U.S. in international affairs, or the current leadership of our Government. 

But I want to share something that hit me this week during morning devotions.  The confession of Peter that Jesus was the Messiah was perhaps the greatest event between the fall and the Passion of the Christ.  Since the Garden of Eden, the Messiah had been promised.  The Old Testament is full of types, predictions, and prophetic overtones.  Finally, He has arrived and God has revealed it to Peter.  Hard on the heels of this confession Jesus teaches that the Messiah must suffer many things, must be rejected, and must die.   Let’s read that again: the Messiah MUST suffer many things, MUST be rejected and MUST die.

Peter, who believes he has a better plan that God, takes Jesus aside and rebukes Him.  “Jesus, I know that you mean well with all this talk about humble suffering and self sacrifice, but I have a better plan.  It involves a crusade by which we can destroy all the evil people and create a world that is heaven right here on earth.  We can begin by calling down fire from heaven.”  The suffering Messiah was a scandal to Peter, one that had to be resisted by force of arms, hence cutting off the servant’s ear in the garden.

Today, Christ’s body still suffers.  In some way that is incomprehensible, at least to me, this suffering appears to be a necessity.  Jesus told Ananias of Saul, “I will show him how much he MUST suffer for my name.”  I don’t want suffering, for me, for the church, for children, or any Christian.  I want air strikes, I want fire, I want sword, I want mushroom clouds, and I want the streets of the strong holds of the bad guys to run with blood.  I do NOT WANT suffering, or rejection, or death for the people on my side or myself.  The problem is, in this state, I am more like Jihadi John than Jesus, more like Peter rebuking Jesus than Mother Theresa serving the hurting.

If it were not a firm conviction of the hope of the Gospel, I would utterly despair.  Maybe the suffering of these beautiful Christians is not a necessity for them.  Could it be a necessity for me?  After the pain of their last moment on earth is over and the Lord has wiped the tears from their eyes, what is the impact of their suffering?  They are a witness; that is what “Martyr” means.  A witness to their killer; have we prayed for their killer?  They are a witness to the watching world.  People must ask, “Why are they so stubborn in their faith?”  A witness to me, “How committed am I to the One I call Lord?”

My emotions are torn up with in me.  I range from tears to a raging desire to join a motorcycle gang I read about that is sending fighters into the fray.  I am bothered by the thought of what these Christians endure, I am bothered that I don’t love Islamic people the way Jesus does.  I am furious that the government of the nation where I live seems so inept or even complicit, and I am frustrated that I so often fail to realize my real citizenship is in heaven.

 I did find help from an old book I am reading again (we should always be reading two books, one new and one re-read).  Bonhoeffer wrote: “To endure the Cross is not a tragedy; it is the suffering which is the fruit of an exclusive allegiance to Jesus Christ.”

Lord Jesus, help us to embrace the Cross and the suffering it brings, for You alone have our full allegiance.  To Your glory with the Holy Spirit and the Father for all eternity, AMEN. 

*  If you follow Islam to its logical conclusion, you end up with something that looks a lot like ISIS.  In my opinion, ISIS is not a mutated form of Islam; it is a sort of Restoration Movement of Islam.  It is a return to do Islamic things in Islamic ways, to call Koranic things by Koranic names.   To say Islam is a religion of peace is true only when you understand that their ‘peace’ comes in terms of submission to Islamic law.

If, on the other hand, you follow the teachings of Christ and the New Testament to the logical conclusion, you end up with someone that looks a lot like Mother Theresa.  The act of loving the least, the lost, and the helpless, and the mercy of that love is a profound and powerful witness.  The failure of western Christianity, especially in the U.S. over the last 40 years, has not been the failure to elect “Christian” political leaders, establish a powerful voting block, build large churches, or develop great preachers.  The failure of our faith is that we have seen the Mother Theresa types as an anomaly and not as the general rule.  And in the line of the guilty I stand first.