Jim Elliot was martyred in Ecuador at age 29.

Jim was fueled by a passion to see the nations praise the Lord Jesus. He trusted Jesus as Savior at age 8 and as a teenager began to feel a call to missions. His wife wrote that his aim in life was “to know God.”

Jim’s other great aim in life was to exalt God. In a letter to his parents that he wrote as a 21 year-old, he described missionaries as normal people. He called them, “a bunch of nobodies trying to exalt Somebody.”

On January 8, 1956, Jim and 4 other missionaries waited for the chance to meet with the Auca or Huaorani Indians. They longed to exalt Somebody to a group of men who had never heard His name.

Even thought Jim was carrying a gun, he refused to use it. Suspecting danger his wife asked him before his last journey if he would use his gun to defend himself against the Indians. Jim replied, “We will not use our guns!” When asked why he replied, “Because we are ready for heaven, but they are not.”

Jim’s short life certainly exalted God and His purposes.

Who does your life exalt?

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*Elliot’s remarkable story was made more popular by the 2006 motion picture, End of the Spear. If you have never invested much time into missionary biographies, give a couple of hours to watching this movie and it might just pique your interest.

**For this entry I am in debt to Daniel Akin’s Five Who Changed the World.

John Huss was a preacher and scholar who became the rector (or leading administrator) at the University of Prague in 1402. From this esteemed position in what is now the Czech Republic, Huss called for reform in the church. Specifically, he advocated for a return to the biblical truth that forgiveness cannot be bought from the church but must be granted by God.

Even though his view was solidly biblical, the king and the pope (John XXIII) saw his teaching as a heretical threat on the established church. Thus, he was excommunicated and he withdrew to the country to continue writing about the need for change.

The church later called a meeting to discuss matters of theological importance. Emperor Sigismud invited Huss to attend the council to defend himself and offered him safety through royal protection.

Upon his arrival, Huss was taken before the pope and ordered to recant his heresy. When he refused, he was treated like a prisoner. The emperor, realizing what was happening, ordered his release. However, upon noticing that Huss’ cause was not popular and any help to him would look like support for a heretic, the emperor refused to provide the safety he had promised.

On June 5, 1415, Huss was brought before the council in chains and ordered to submit to the assembly by recanting his heresy. Knowing that any admission of guilt would involve denying biblical truth and convinced that he would not receive a fair trial, Huss declared….

“I appeal to Jesus Christ, the only judge who is almighty and completely just. In his hands I place my cause, since he will judge each, not on the basis of false witnesses and erring councils, but of truth and justice.”

Huss was taken back to prison and many people pled with him to recant. He would not.

On July 6, he was taken to the cathedral and dressed in priestly garments. In acts of humiliation they stripped him, shaved his head, and placed a paper crown decorated with demons on him. Then, they led him away, tied him to a stake, and gave him one final chance to recant. When he would not, they burned him.

Before they lit the fire he prayed aloud, “Lord Jesus, it is for thee that I patiently endure this cruel death. I pray thee to have mercy on my enemies.” As the flames engulfed him he was heard reciting the Psalms.

In societies where biblical truth is not valued, those men and women who cling to it have always faced persecution. We live in such a society. So don’t be surprised when our commitment to the Truth requires us to a pay an earthly price.

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*Again, I’m in debt to Justo L. Gonzalez’s fine work in The Story of Christianity, vol. 1, pp. 348-351.

While the genuineness of the Roman Emperor Constantine’s faith is a source of endless debate, his impact (both positively and negatively) on Church history is enormous. His rise to power began well before he became ruler of the western share of the Empire in AD 306. After assuming this position, he gradually gained military superiority over the other partial rulers until seizing control of the entire Roman Empire in AD 324.

With his power well-established in 313, however, Constantine instigated one of the most important political agreements in church history: the ‘Edict of Milan.’ This agreement between he and Licinius, another partial ruler of the Empire, included a provision to end the persecution of Christians and return their churches, cemeteries, and other properties to them.

For the first time in the nearly 300-year history of the church, Christians garnered official protection from the government. This agreement brought positive and negative changes that affected the world’s political scene and the Church immediately and for centuries.

Following the enforcement of this edict, the Church set aside an emphasis on the Kingdom of God as they lost the hope of martyrdom. During the early years of the 4^th century the Church faced some of the most cruel persecution in history, which pointed them toward the future reign of Christ and the hope of escaping persecution by dying for their faith. Now living in relative safety and security, the Church began her descent toward complacency.

Doesn’t that church sound familiar? A group of relatively safe and secure individuals who have no vision or concern for God’s eternal Kingdom and certainly no hope of dying for their faith.

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*Again, I’m in debt to Justo L. Gonzalez’s fine work in The Story of Christianity, vol. 1, pp. 113-135.

So much of 21^st century Christianity is skewed by our culture. Sometimes it’s helpful to reset our minds by remembering the ideals and attitudes of the great men and women of faith from past centuries. One story of a loud death helps me.

A man named Ignatius was the bishop of the church in Antioch when he was sentenced to die in A.D. 107. The imperial authorities wanted to execute him in Rome for amusement as part of a celebration for a recent military victory. Ignatius was ready for martyrdom.

While awaiting execution he heard that some Christians in Rome wanted to rescue him to prevent his death. Ignatius, however, was ready to seal his witness with his blood. In a letter written during his imprisonment, he expressed his disapproval for any attempts to save him. So he wrote…

“I fear your kindness, which may harm me. You may be able to achieve what you plan. But if you pay no heed to my request it will be very difficult for me to attain unto God.”

He continued later in the letter…

“If you remain silent about me, I shall become a word of God. But if you allow yourselves to be swayed by the love in which you hold my flesh, I shall again be no more than a human voice.”

Ignatius was no masochist. Nor did he desire self-promotion through pain. He longed to die physically in a way that would announce the central fact about his life: he was already dead.

God, help us follow Ignatius. Help us to die to self. And lead us to face death (and life) in a way that announces this death.