Bridgeway Christian Church

Remember Dorothy from “The Wizard of Oz”?  I couldn’t help but think of her during the recent message on Christ’s letter to Smyrna, one of the seven churches addressed in Revelation.  God explicitly cautioned the people of this church they would suffer persecution and martyrdom for His sake but exhorted them to remain “faithful unto death” (Revelation 2:10).  Some, like Polycarp, were burned alive.  Others were destined to be thrown to wild beasts.  When Dorothy contemplated the possible perils of her journey to Oz, she exclaimed, “Lions and tigers and bears!”  I suspect lions and tigers and bears were instrumental in the martyrdom of numerous early Christians.

Because we live in a land where we worship as we choose, we will likely never come to a crossroad that tests faith to this extreme.  Nonetheless, I think it’s important to recognize our sworn adversary is not only cunning but resourceful, capable of “sifting” us with any elements at his disposal.  While we no longer face lions and tigers and bears, I suggest many of us are beset by the alienation, apathy, and weariness that are byproducts of our culture.  Borrowing from English novelist Charles Dickens in A Tale of Two Cities, I view the present as something akin to “the best of times” and “the worst of times.”

Despite a world replete with boundless information and rapid-fire communication, we feel dispossessed and strangely alone.  We try to make sense of the catastrophes and collapsing economies around us — or even make sense of our lives — and become disillusioned when the pieces don’t fit.  We are tired.  The race set before us may appear pointless and thankless.  We see all too often, as outspoken baseball manager Leo Durocher once remarked, that nice guys (and gals) finish last.

Some of the spiritual battles we fight today, though they assume a discernibly different guise, are no less real than those waged by the early Christians.  Many of them were called to die for their faith.  Unless we confront hostile governments on foreign mission fields, we are enjoined only to live for ours.  The “only” seems monumental on days we barely trudge along, much less sprint, in the race.  I believe, though, the act of simply putting one foot in front of the other also demonstrates faith.
Speaking of feet, when his persecutors were preparing to burn him alive, Polycarp declined having his feet fixed to the stake.  I’ll bet that the phrase about holding someone’s feet to the fire hails directly from early Christian martyrdom.  History relates Polycarp was originally intended to be cast to wild animals.

I confess, like most of us, I am altogether unwilling to deal with lions and tigers and bears unless they are on the other side of a barrier at the San Diego Zoo or in a box of animal crackers.  I confess, too, that the astounding faith of Polycarp and others like him humbles me and helps me to put my own trials in perspective — momentarily.  Still, propelled by the author and perfecter of all faith, I proceed, moment by moment, flanked by surer and certainly swifter runners, as do we all, one step at a time.