From the earliest days of history, there has been a war going on; sometimes with more visible intensity and sometimes with less, but it is always there, churning underneath friendships, marriages, and geopolitical relationships. This war is the war between the woman and the serpent, between her seed and his seed established by God just after the fall, declared plainly to us in Genesis 3.15. From the beginning, it has been a bloody battle. Cain, the seed of the serpent, killed his righteous brother, Abel, the seed of the woman, because Abel’s deeds were righteous and Cain’s were wicked (1Jn 3.12).
The battle has continued through the ages, both before and after the coming of Christ Jesus. Those opposed to God and his way of ordering life have sought to eradicate the righteous, whether they were the prophets of the old creation, Jesus himself, or his apostles. The war continues even after that first generation after Jesus’ resurrection. The early church tells us of men such as Polycarp and Justin, women such as Perpetua and Blandina along with many others. The cruel ways in which all of these died cannot be matched, but the numbers of modern-day martyrs far exceed the numbers of our early church. One author says that 2019 was one of the bloodiest years in church history. We hear of eleven Christians beheaded in Nigeria in December of 2019, and this is followed up by over 1,200 being killed in Nigeria in the first six months of 2020. Then there is the Middle East where there is what some are saying is coming close to Christian genocide. North Korea, China, Sri Lanka, and many other countries are targeting Christians for persecution and death.
The war has never stopped. While we know that there is a war, the question must be asked, What are we fighting for? Is this war merely the fact that these individuals over here don’t like the individuals on the other side of the line? No. This is a political war, and the feast of All Saints is all about politics.
The feast of All Saints began in some form or fashion early in the church. Though it is celebrated at different times in different branches of the church, there is a time in churches all around the world that the church commemorates the lives of all of the unnamed martyrs along with those loved ones we have personally known who have borne faithful witness to Christ throughout their lives and have now, having fought a good fight, have gone to their rest. Many saints’ lives are celebrated by name throughout the year. All Saints is the day for the millions of others who have no special day, giving the church a time to reflect upon those unsung heroes, as we might say, or those whom we knew personally, who encouraged us and left us an example to follow. This follows the pattern of Hebrews 11 of remembering and being encouraged by the departed faithful.
When we think about the martyrs and celebrating their lives, we probably recall the courage of a Polycarp or Thomas Cranmer who faced the flames, or Ignatius, who was torn to pieces by lions in a Roman arena. Their courage rooted in faith was exemplary and is to be emulated by all of us in our daily lives. But their deaths witnessed to more than just personal courage rooted in their own convictions. Their deaths were a proclamation to the world, and particularly their persecutors, that the kingdoms of this world have become the kingdoms of our Lord and of his Christ.
In Jesus’ death and subsequent resurrection, the nature of his kingdom was revealed as one that had power over death itself. Being that this was the greatest power of any government over its people, a power that kept people subservient through fear of death, Jesus Christ and his people declared through their willingness to die that all political systems, all governments, were ultimately subservient to Jesus’ lordship and would, eventually, be subjugated by him. The Christian faith threatened to undo all of the political systems based on the fear of death. Martyrs were and are the ultimate witness to the principalities and powers that their time is short.
We have a hard time in America understanding martyrdom because we view religion as a private commitment that is not to interfere with politics. As Amy Coney Barrett proudly proclaimed, her personal religious beliefs would not interfere with judgments about the law. And that’s the way it ought to be. Don’t bring religion into politics. There should be a wall of separation between the church and the state, right?
When we think like this, we yield the field, forsake our mission, and are poor stewards of the inheritance left to us by the martyrs. The Christian mission has always been political because the purpose of man is political; that is, we were created to take dominion, build a kingdom, build the city, the polis, of God so that every area of life images the life of God’s heaven. There is no “secular” space in this sense; some sort of neutral space where God does not claim absolute rule. Through his death and resurrection, Jesus was granted all authority in heaven and on earth by the Father (Matt 28.18; cf. also Phil 2.5-11). Through the blood of his cross, Jesus reconciled the world to himself, putting everything under his lordship, visible or invisible, whether they be thrones or dominions, principalities or powers (Col 1.15-20).
The word gospel itself, as it was used in the first century, was a political announcement. It was used to speak of the birthday or the conquest of a king. The gospel of Jesus Christ is the announcement that Jesus is Lord; that he reigns, having received the nations as his inheritance, just as the Father promised. All kings must come and bow and kiss the Son lest he be angry (cf. Pss 2; 72). As we proclaim the gospel, the church is a threat to the political systems in rebellion against the Christ of God.
As we worship, offering up our prayers, God shakes up the geopolitical landscape (cf. Revelation, esp. 8.1-4). Worship is a political action.
The martyrs did not give their lives because they had personal disputes about private, interior religion. They were killed because the church’s existence and her proclamation that Jesus is Lord threatened to undo all of the kingdoms of the world–the political systems. They could courageously give their lives because death had been conquered, stripping every satanic kingdom of its greatest weapon: fear of death (Heb 2.14-15).
We may not give our lives as many of our fathers and mothers did or as many of our brothers and sisters are doing even now. But we must live with the bold faith of the martyrs, pressing the crown rights of King Jesus through every square inch of the world.
