Martyrs, Revelation, and the Stockdale Paradox: A Jesus Primer on Good Hope and Bad Hope

Posted on March 16, 2015 by Pastor Foley

Logo 071414There is good Christian hope and bad Christian hope, alternatively known as real hope and false hope. The world–rightly–accuses Christians of trafficking in much false hope, and this is an unfortunate result of our not reading our own book which provides ample instruction in distinguishing between hopes we ought to have and hopes that will get us and others killed.

False hope: In this world you will not have much trouble.

Real hope: In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world. (Jesus in John 16:33, NIV.)

We too often tend to regard and receive any sign of hope as a good thing, yet hope is often the deadliest emotion. This insight is at the heart of what is known as the Stockdale Paradox, named for Admiral James Stockdale, an eight-year POW in Vietnam. That Stockdale was a man of great hope there is no doubt:

I never doubted not only that I would get out, but also that I would prevail in the end and turn the experience into the defining event of my life, which, in retrospect, I would not trade.

But here is the paradox: Stockdale observed that a certain kind of hope actually poisoned many of his fellow prisoners:

They were the ones who said, “We’re going to be out by Christmas.” And Christmas would come, and Christmas would go. Then they’d say, “We’re going to be out by Easter.” And Easter would come, and Easter would go. And then Thanksgiving, and then it would be Christmas again. And they died of a broken heart.

The Lord not only gives real hope; equally, he banishes false hope. Consider this interaction between the Lord and the martyrs in Revelation 6:9-11 (NIV):

When he opened the fifth seal, I saw under the altar the souls of those who had been slain because of the word of God and the testimony they had maintained. They called out in a loud voice, “How long, Sovereign Lord, holy and true, until you judge the inhabitants of the earth and avenge our blood?” Then each of them was given a white robe, and they were told to wait a little longer, until the full number of their fellow servants, their brothers and sisters, were killed just as they had been.

Seeking to replace the narrative of Revelation with the numbers of various prophetic schemes is thus exposed as false hope: There is a reason the Lord does not reply to the martyrs with the assurance, “by Christmas” or “by Easter” or “on May 21, 2011.” As with Stockdale, the Lord offers real hope and only real hope: Martyrdom will go on only as long as necessary. It will be the defining event of the church in every generation that awaits his return, and the church will ultimately value it so much that it will not trade it for anything.

It is enough, says the Lord, to know that hope does not disappoint: Death in witness to the gospel will be neither senseless nor endless. But seeking to go beyond this–turning Revelation into a series of cosmic crossword puzzles to be decoded in order to produce Your Definitive Guide To The End Of The World–will only serve to weaken our faith.

Our quest for certainty and exactitude is often our undoing as believers. When the Lord does not return by Christmas, when our suffering does not end by Easter, what is exposed is that we have put our faith in the wrong place; we have hoped with counterfeit hope. If the Lord is ambiguous, he is ambiguous for our own good. Like Stockdale in the POW camp, the Lord knows what it takes to keep us alive and our head in the game here on earth: Certain knowledge of the outcome, combined with indeterminacy of the events that await us between now and then.

How long, O Lord? A little longer, but only as long as necessary.

Posted in martyr | Tagged , , | 1 Comment

What If The Only Thing God Offered You Was Suffering?

Posted on March 12, 2015 by tdillmuth

in gods underground 2As our family was studying God’s magnificent heavenly banquet, I posed this question to my children,  “What if God’s banquet that he offers us right now is suffering?  Will you accept?”

I wanted my children to be well-aware that before the promised banquet meal, God promises us suffering and persecution.  I know this sounds like an “almost heretical” statement in some Christian circles, and yet the Scriptures seem pretty clear on this point.

Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple.  Luke 14:27

For it has been granted to you that for the sake of Christ you should not only believe in him but also suffer for his sake.  Philippians 1:28.

Indeed, all who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted.  2 Timothy 3:12

I began to think about the words of Rev. Richard Wurmbrand when he was in solitary confinement, in the Ministry of the Interior’s secret basement prison.  At this point he had been a pastor, evangelist and had already suffered greatly in prison.  Yet, Rev. Wurmbrand asked himself these questions,

I had God.  But had I really lived to serve God – or was it simply my profession?

Did I believe in God?  Now the test had come.  I was alone.  There was no salary to earn, no golden opinions to consider.  God offered me only suffering – would I continue to love Him (In God’s Underground, 52)?

Wurmbrand rightly identified that his suffering was ultimately from God.  The evils of communism and the sin of man had surely brought about his persecution, and yet God not only allowed it, but ordained it.  Would Wurmbrand continue to love and serve a God who gave him beatings, mockery, humiliation and isolation?  He said,

Slowly, I learned that on the tree of silence hangs the fruit of peace.  I began to realize my real personality, and made sure that it belonged to Christ.  I found that even here my thoughts and feelings turned to God and that I could pass night after night in prayer, spiritual exercise, and praise.  I knew now that I was not play-acting, believing that I believe (In God’s Underground, 53).

Job said, “Though he slay me, I will hope in him; yet I will argue my ways to his face.”  Job was a man who experienced tremendous suffering and at the time didn’t understand it at all.  And yet in this one verse, we know that Job remained fiercely committed to God, despite the fact that he recognized the suffering as from God’s own hand.

The Bible promises us a cross to bear.  Will you accept it?  Will you continue to believe in God despite this?  Like Rev. Wurmbrand and Job, will you continue to serve a God in the midst of the suffering that He allows?

My children were not surprised that I asked them this question.  We have these kind of conversations quite regularly.  I consider it a part of our daily discipleship routine.  I certainly wasn’t looking for a quick, emotionally charged response from them.

But they did respond in a quiet, reassuring manner, while acknowledging the suffering of Christians around the world and of the suffering that’s promised to them.

Posted in persecution | Tagged , , , , | 1 Comment

Too Many “Little Children” And Not Enough “Fathers” Among Recent Christian Martyrs?

Posted on March 9, 2015 by Pastor Foley

Logo 071414Sophia Jones offers moving tribute to the 21 Coptic Christians beheaded by ISIS, sharing about their everyday lives before martyrdom. The 21 are described as

laborers, gone for months on end, who sent home hard-earned money to feed entire families. They left their impoverished home in Egypt to work in Libya for a better future, despite the dangers.

Hani Abdel Messihah, 32, is “gentle and kind, always making a joke whenever he could.” Yousef Shoukry, 24, is “a  quiet young man with the heart of a child… All he wanted to do was find a job and start a family.” His faith gave him the confidence to go to Libya. “I have one God, he’s the same here and there,” he told his mother. Maged Suleiman Shahata, 40, was “born into poverty and so were his children. But the father of three was determined to change their futures.”

These are quality men of faith. And yet what is so remarkable about their martyrdom is that they were not church leaders whose martyrdom came as a result of a life of discipleship that increasingly put them perpendicular to the principalities and powers of the world; instead, they appear to have been individuals out looking for work, apprehended simply because of their Christian identity, yet who, after they were apprehended, lived up to that Christian identity in every possible way through their witness. They confessed and did not deny.

This has me looking at John’s typology of Christian maturity in 1 John 2, wherein John distinguishes between little children, young men, and fathers. Who were these 21?

I am writing to you, little children, because your sins have been forgiven you for His name’s sake. I am writing to you, fathers, because you know Him who has been from the beginning. I am writing to you, young men, because you have overcome the evil one. I have written to you, children, because you know the Father. I have written to you, fathers, because you know Him who has been from the beginning. I have written to you, young men, because you are strong, and the word of God abides in you, and you have overcome the evil one. (1 John 2:12-14, NASB).

There is of course no way to know for sure, but I might suggest that the 21 were “little children” who became “young men” in our family of faith in the final moments of their lives.Their extraordinary professions of faith remind us that the strength is all from God and not from us.

And yet in church history there is also a tradition that “fathers”–the top leaders of the Christian movement worldwide in their time–model uncompromising faithfulness for the rest of the family by living lives of discipleship that do place them perpendicular to the world and thus (and often voluntarily) lead steadily toward the cross.

Ignatius and Polycarp are perhaps paradigmatic in that regard. They willingly offered the sacrifice of martyrdom, and they wrote letters along the way to the young men and little children who did not want them to die and who questioned whether their sacrifice was the right thing for them to do.

The story of Jesus demonstrates the reason why in scripture the “fathers” precede the “young men” and the “little children” into martyrdom: Young men and little children sometimes have willing spirits but weak flesh when the time of sacrifice is at hand:

“Simon, Simon, behold, Satan has demanded permission to sift you like wheat; but I have prayed for you, that your faith may not fail; and you, when once you have turned again, strengthen your brothers.” But he said to Him, “Lord, with You I am ready to go both to prison and to death!” And He said, “I say to you, Peter, the rooster will not crow today until you have denied three times that you know Me” (Luke 22:31-34, NASB).

In the scriptural order, fathers advance to martyrdom at the vanguard of the family, and they share why they are going on the way. This does not mean that only fathers are martyred, or that all fathers are martyred, or that young men or little children are spared martyrdom, or that their witness is less valuable or mature or important. But it does suggest that fathers are martyred, and that part of being a father is living a life of faith in full knowledge of where it will lead; not backing away from the cost; and even helping others to understand and accept what will happen, and why it is not a tragedy.

So let me turn the question to you and ask:

Who is the last “father” you can think of–the last global-level top Christian leader who steadily lived a life perpendicular to the world–who knew that he/she was advancing toward martyrdom, and who was dissuaded by young men and little children not to make the sacrifice, and who responded by helping them to think theologically and properly about why martyrdom is the logical outcome of faithful discipleship lived amidst the principalities and powers of the world? And do you think that there may be too many “little children” and not enough “fathers” among recent Christian marytrs?

Posted in martyr, persecution | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 5 Comments