Back in August, during the first febrile fortnight of my
Parisian accommodation search, I took some time out to visit an art gallery.
(No, don’t stop reading, I’m not pretentious enough to pretend I know anything
about art.) This painting in particular struck me:
Its title, “Christians Entering the Amphitheatre”, is pretty
self-explanatory. It’s not an unfamiliar scenario. But it had more of an effect
on me than so many other “religious” paintings. Every time I looked at it, my
eyes were drawn not to the crowd nor to the competitors in the background, but
to the two solitary figures at the front. Though they seem scared, there is a
stillness in these two martyrs that marks them out from the chaos behind them.
And so, despite the grief and terror of the situation, almost paradoxically, I
felt at peace. To me, it was a striking depiction of the way in which,
throughout the ages, Christians have been sustained by their faith even when
faced with death.
Of course, this is “just” a painting. It means nothing if it
is no more than an idealistic and unrealistic representation of how Christians
have died for their faith.
So how does the painting bare up to reality?
Though the painting depicts millennia-old events, we need
not look to see the same things happening again today. It happens across the
world, but the atrocities committed against Christian minorities by the so-called
Islamic State in Syria, Iraq and Yemen seem unrivaled in brutality. Just this
week, as they publicly executed yet more Christian hostages, the group warned that "followers of the cross” across the world would never be safe until they converted to Islam. We’ve heard about the “convert or die” orders
given to Iraqi Christians. Less well known is the use of crucifixion to punish those who’ve converted from Islam to Christianity. Even when given the option
of renouncing their faith and escaping execution, many refuse, preferring instead
to face hours, even days of an agonising death.
Of course, some do renounce their faith. We can’t judge them
for that when we have never faced true persecution for what we believe. Others
may choose death but face it with fear rather than the peace depicted in the
painting. As Jesus said, “The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.” There’s
nothing wrong with facing death with fear. I don't know if anyone can face death completely fearlessly. But, in theory at least, our faith can help us to overcome this
fear.
The clearest example of this peace in action can be seen in
the way US aid worker Kayla Mueller faced death at the hands of ISIS. In the
two years of captivity before her death, she was reportedly tortured,
repeatedly raped and forced into marriage with the group’s leader, Abu Bakr
al-Baghdadi. Her unimaginable torment surpasses that of the cruelty of the coliseum.
It is impossible to imagine how anyone could be at peace while facing something
like that. And yet, her deeply moving final letter suggests otherwise:
“I have come to a place in experience where, in every sense of the word, I have surrendered myself to our creator because literally there was no else…. and by God and by your prayers I have felt tenderly cradled in freefall.
I have been shown in darkness, light and have learned
that even in prison, one can be free. I am grateful.
I have come to see
that there is good in every situation, sometimes we just have to look for it."
We don’t know how much of this was intended to comfort her
family rather than reflect her feelings. It’s clear that her claim that she was
treated well was far from true. But the
letter remains deeply moving, even if she did, naturally, have her doubts while
writing it.
When we hear about what happens to Christians in Iraq and
Syria, of course we will be shocked and saddened. But we should be certain that
their faith can enable them to face the unimaginable. We should pray that they
would feel at peace, as Kayla Mueller did. And we should be challenged about
how easily our faith falters under much less pressure. We can pray that our
faith would be strengthened. But we can’t be pessimistic about the future of
Christianity. The church grew under the shadow of the coliseum. No developments
in the Middle East can threaten its future. Above all, we should become fully confident in Jesus’ words: “I will
build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.”
