Theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven

The young man stands beneath the rays of the hot sun, staring up at the crowds of people. His face is white, he trembles slightly, but he swallows down his terrible fear. Suddenly, a roar breaks the silence. The crowd gasps excitedly and the man falls to his knees, praying. Again, the roars of wild beasts echo in the stillness of the afternoon and there is a creaking as a gate is raised. His companions gather around the kneeling man, some also kneeling, others singing hymns softly. The crowd hurls cries down upon these prisoners: on the young man and his companions. And then the beasts are let out.

Many early Christians faced the terrors of martyrdom: cruel deaths by fire, crucifixion, the sword, and wild beasts. Eusebius, born around 260 AD, was one of the most famous Christian historians and penned the great Church History. In this magnificent record of the early church, Eusebius recounts the horrific tales of countless martyrs: Christians who voluntarily suffered death for refusing to renounce their belief in Christ.

In these accounts, Eusebius focuses on the remarkable bravery and confidence the Christians had in the face of gruesome torture. This courage, faithfulness, and physical strength could have come nowhere but from God himself. In one instance, he writes about one of these martyrs, saying: “Sanctus too endured all cruelty with superhuman courage …. His body was a witness to his torment: it was all one wound, mangled and shorn of human shape, but Christ, suffering in that body, vanquished the Adversary and showed that there is nothing to fear where the Father’s love is and nothing to wound where Christ’s glory is.” Eusebius showed that God never forsook the Christians, supplying them with an extraordinary bravery and vigor, and never giving them more than they could bear.

In the midst of their torture and their dying, the Christian’s continued to praise God, often witnessing to their captors. They went to their death joyful and proud. In the account of the horrible martyrdom of Blandina, Eusebius writes, “Last of all, the blessed Blandina, like a noble mother who had comforted her children and sent them on triumphantly to the king, rejoiced at her own departure as if invited to a wedding feast.”

Many of these Christians must have wondered why they had to die. Were there deaths in vain? But, out of such terrible suffering and persecution, God used them to bring countless others to the faith. Many of the pagans who witnessed the martyrs’ deaths were converted as were many former Christians who had fallen away. “Through them a majority of those who had lapsed were reborn, learned to confess Christ, and went to the tribunal to be interrogated by the governor again …. There were also outsiders who had never had a trace of faith or fear of God and blasphemed the Way by their conduct—sons of perdition—but all the rest were added to the church.”

God will never forsake His people. God can use even the most horrific of circumstances for good, as He did when He brought so many more Christians to the faith through the terrible persecutions of His people. As He said in Mathew, “And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

The martyrs’ deaths can encourage Christians to stand firm in their faith and trust in God.

The young man looks up, thoughts wildly rushing through his head. He can see the beasts coming closer, casting their large dark shadows on the floor of the arena. Sweat stands out on his forehead. But then a clear calm strain falls upon his ears. It is one of his companions singing. He looks up, listens quietly, and then rising slowly to his feet, he too begins to sing. His companion smiles, and extends a hand to help him, whispering as the beasts draw nearer, “Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

A Conversation in a Library

We recently asked the renowned bibliognost Mr. Humphrey Darby to write a small thought piece for our publication. We knew that all our readers would be most eager to read such a work and we also knew that Mr. Darby would be more than eager to write it. He accepted. We were thrilled.

We therefore present to you:

A Conversation in a Library

“You are what?” I asked in a half apologetic, half shocked voice. I gazed at him over my gold rimmed spectacles.
He checked himself, wondering if he should repeat those words, wondering how I would take them.
“No, really, what did you say?” I pressed him eagerly. “You said it in such a whisper I could barely understand you.”
“Well,” he began coolly and paused. Then he lowered his voice, “I am a biblioklept.”
I almost said “what!” again, but I realized that wouldn’t have been very polite at all, so I merely stared at him and formed my lips as if to say, “oh?”
And then he laughed, in a low voice of course since we were seated in a library, but the laugh seemed uncommonly harsh and bitter.
“Mr. Darby,” he continued, after he had sufficiently calmed himself, “Aren’t you a philosopher?”
“Well, I don’t know. I’ve never been called that.”
“Oh, but you are, my dear Mr. Darby. And most importantly I have learned that you own a title that many people long to have as their own.”
“And what is that?”
“Bibliognost, Mr. Darby. You are a bibliognost: you have a deep knowledge of books. And I have also learned that you know much about the readers of books.”
“Yes?”
“That is why I wish you to help me.”
The young man had flattered me. I pushed aside the book I had been reading and gazed at him with interest and curiosity.
(read more...)

“Now, Mr. Darby, tell me if you know what a biblioklept is.”
“But of course I do: it is a person who steals books.”
“Exactly. And have you ever met one of these most wonderfully complex persons?”
“No, I can’t say that I have.”
“Have you ever wished to? Can you not say that you have longed to study their colorful characters? Their natures that drive them to steal books?”
“I do not know what your name is, young sir, but really you are a most perplexing individual. If you would really like to know, the thought had never entered my head.”
He looked disappointed at this. But then a smile crossed his face and he said in a pleasant voice, “Well, at least you must be very happy to have met one in such a chance encounter?”
I wished to humor him and so I nodded and agreed, “Quite right.”
“Ah, now that is fine!” and he folded his hands and rested his chin upon them and looked as if he meant to make a lecture upon this statement.
“Go on,” I encouraged.
“Well, you see, what I really want to know is why I steal books. I suddenly see a book lying here or there and a passion comes over me that I simply cannot control. Why do I steal books?”
I would have liked to have said, “My dear fellow, I have not the slightest idea,” and bowed out of the conversation altogether, but I knew that this wouldn’t have done at all. I therefore resigned myself to be patient and listen on.
“Well, let me see,” I said. “We are in a library right now. Tell me which book you should like to steal.”
He glanced at me and announced, “Why, that one that you have just put down.”
“This one?” I asked rather crossly. It did not seem right at all that you would ask someone for help and then casually announce you were going to steal his book.
“Oh, yes. I came over here for the express purpose of taking it. It was only when I noticed that you were the Mr. Darby that I thought better of it and wanted to speak with you.”
“And why did you wish to steal my book!”
“But, Mr. Darby, you were writing in it!”
This was true. My pencil lay beside the tome.
“Do you think of this stealing as such or as a sort of rescuing?” I asked.
“Well, I think of it as saving,” he said. “I cannot bear to see a book spoiled.”
“Ah.”
“Yes, it happens all the time. Only yesterday, I was walking in the park and the most irresponsible girl was sitting on the grass, scribbling all over a copy of Dante’s Inferno. I happened to know the girl. Actually, she is a friend of my sister’s, but I ran over and said ‘Hey there!’ and I am afraid I grabbed the book and ran off with it.”
“Did she follow you?”
“Oh, yes, of course she followed me! She didn’t lose me until I jumped into a taxi.”
“She must think you are insane.”
This did not seem to help the poor boy, so I tried to think of something philosophical to say.
“Have you ever heard of G. K. Chesterton?” I questioned.
“Oh, yes. I actually just stole a copy of his Orthodoxy from a bookstore that was using it as a doorstop.”
“A doorstop?” I asked incredulously. “Well, it doesn’t really matter now, I suppose, but did you ever read what he said about thieves?”
“Is it bad?”
“No. He wrote, ‘Thieves respect property. They merely wish the property to become their property that they may more perfectly respect it.’ In your case, this property happens to be books.”
He looked up at me cheerfully. “Wonderful,” he said.
“Now,” I announced. “Don’t you think it would be better if instead of stealing, you paid these poor people for their books?”
“Paid them? Of course, I would never pay them. It would only further their horrible actions: make them worse biblioclasts. No indeed. For what would become of me? I would have to stop rescuing these books for I would not have the funds to pay for all of them.”
I stared at him; his face had turned red with indignation.
“Soon, it shall be more than one man against the world. I will train others under me. We will teach the readers of this world to respect the books that have been entrusted to them. Books that have not been respected shall disappear from under their very noses. Let this be a warning to all of you.”
He stopped his speech, got up, and bowed to me. Then whirled round as if he were going to leave, but thinking better of it, he sprang back, snatched my book from off the table, and dashed out of the library.
My word, what a fellow! And, yet, I have heard that the rate of book-thefts has risen tremendously in that county.

Thank you, Blogger!

Apologies to all of my readers eagerly awaiting a new entry. It shall be up shortly. Right now, however, I am lauding the praises of Blogger. It is truly the very best blogging software around. Not only is it free (money and banner wise) and easy to use and comes with a spell checker, but now you can also upload pictures...for free! Sorry, all, I just had to advertise. This new feature is too cool. :)