When I was around eight, I decided that I was going to be a martyr when I grew up.
I had been reading Christian biographies, and just up and decided that I'd have one of my own someday. I would die doing something amazing for the cause of Christ. When I was ten, I decided I'd be a missionary's wife --the first one, who died in childbirth as soon as they reached foreign soil, the one whose name you can't remember because he got remarried and the second wife was the one that was married to him throughout most of his adventures. The first, nameless one -his first love -that was me.
Leave it to kid-me to turn suffering for the cause of Christ into a self-centered, romantic notion.
The self-centered romance was dispelled when, around sixteen, I read Foxe's Book of Martyrs. I had nightmares every night I read Foxe's, worst nightmares, even, than the ones that had driven my poor mother to beg me to stop reading my hefty collection of holocaust memoirs two years prior. They were healthy nightmares -they put some sting into my romance and reminded me that persecution is not an easy cross to bear -that a painful death is... well, painful, not just an adventurous notion that stayed mute on the pages of my books -that the heroes I'd grown up admiring were more heroes than I had ever imagined -and that if I was willing to die for the cause of Christ with their quiet faith, it would only be because he held my hand in the midst of the trials.
Matthew 5:10-12 says:
Blessed are those who are persecuted or righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you.
And 1 Peter 3:13-17 goes on to tell us how we should react in the face of this persecution:
Now who is there to harm you if you are zealous for what is good? But even if you should suffer for righteousness' sake, you will be blessed. Have no fear of them, nor be troubled, but in your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect, having a good conscience, so that, when you are slandered, those who revile your good behavior in Christ may be put to shame. For it is better to suffer for doing good, if that should be God's will, than for doing evil.
When I read those verses, and when I reflect on the fact that some of the very people under the sound of Jesus' voice, and under the sound of his disciple Peter's voice suffered systematic persecution under the Roman empire -were gored by steers, fed to lions, crucified, set on fire -and when I understand that Christians across the world are subjected to grievous atrocities simply for mentioning the name of the God I serve... I realize something: I don't know persecution.
The worst "persecution" I've experienced regarding my beliefs has has come from unkind words or broken relationships. I don't think "persecution" is quite the right word for disagreement, unkindness, or even shunning: opposition is. And the difference may sound slight, but the thing is, although I don't like being mocked or misrepresented any more than the next person, words cannot keep me from living out my convictions --words can't make me a martyr unless I decide to play one. Opposition -from strangers blasting me on the internet to friends I've lost because it was just "too weird" that I didn't date (oh, yes) -only causes pain when I get wrapped up in myself and my feelings and my righteousness -the pain of persecution is inescapable. Luke 6:26 puts a different spin on harsh words. I don't necessarily endorse the "sticks and stones" adage: words hurt, but I've never actually had sticks and stones thrown at me for proclaiming the gospel.
When I hear American Christians throwing the word "persecution" around so haphazardly -when I'm tempted to use it myself -I have to stop and wonder: what is the miniscule amount of ridicule that I personally and the Christianity in America as a whole faces from day-to-day compared to what the Lord has called us to suffer for his namesake in the future? Are we who are so quick to defend ourselves against harsh words the same people who claim to be willing to die for our Lord and Savior?
Could you only give an answer when asked for it? Could you do so graciously? Could you weather criticism gracefully? Could you suffer for doing good? Could you suffer to the point of death?
Could I?
I may yet end up as a missionary wife ministering to a hostile unreached people group. I may face harsh persecution from our American government someday. I may be imprisoned because of my beliefs. I may have to die for them. The little pangs of the pride in my life dying a slow and painful death right now may be the Lord preparing me to lay down even more for him in the future.
While eight-year-old me wouldn't have found it quite as "romantic" to live out my convictions in typical American comfort, I don't think she quite understood how easy it can be for us soft-handed Americans to develop martyr complexes all our own. Persecution in the sense that Christians across the ages and even now, across the world, have to deal with is a foreign concept to me, at least in a tangible sense (in the sense that I pray for those who are truly persecuted, it is an ever-present reality). What I have to deal with is far less potent: all I have to do is to focus on the humility that will see me through 1 Peter 3:13-17.
I am so thankful that the sovereign King of the universe knows me better than any enemy could, and has more ammunition than any of them could ever fabricate... and chose us nonetheless, for his glory, and will strengthen us as we strive to live our lives with that goal in mind (Philippians 1:6).
Miraculous as it may seem.
"Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain." 1 Corinthians 15:58