A renowned follower of Christ and bishop of Smyrna, Polycarp had
become a Christian under the tutelage of John the apostle. Recently,
the Roman proconsul had been looking for him for days. After arresting and torturing one of Polycarp’s servants, they finally learned where
he was staying. The soldiers came into the house, but instead of fleeing,
Polycarp calmly stated, “God’s will be done.”

Polycarp asked that food be brought for the soldiers, and he
requested an hour for prayer. Amazed by Polycarp’s fearlessness, especially for a man his age, the hardened Roman soldiers granted his
request. He prayed for two hours for all the Christians he knew and for
the universal church, and the soldiers let him.

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As Polycarp entered the stadium, several Christians present heard a
voice from Heaven say, “Be strong, Polycarp, and act like a man.”
Because of his age, the Roman proconsul gave Polycarp a final chance
to live. He just had to swear by Caesar and say, “Take away the atheists”
(at that time Christians were called atheists for refusing to worship the
Greek and Roman gods). Polycarp looked at the roaring crowds, gestured
to them, and proclaimed, “Take away the atheists!”

The proconsul continued, “Swear, and I will let you go. Reproach Christ!”
Polycarp turned to the proconsul and boldly declared, “Eighty-six
years I have served Him, and He has done me no wrong. How can I
blaspheme my King Who saved me?”

The proconsul urged him again, “Swear by the Fortune of Caesar.”
But Polycarp replied, “Since you vainly think that I will swear by the
Fortune of Caesar, as you say, and pretend not to know who I am, listen
carefully: I am a Christian!” The proconsul threatened, “I have wild beasts. I will throw you to them, if you do not repent.”

Polycarp replied, “Call them! For we cannot ‘repent’ from what is better to what is worse; but it is noble to turn from what is evil to what is righteous.”

Then the proconsul threatened Polycarp with fire, but he responded:
“You threaten me with a fire that burns an hour and is soon quenched,
for you are ignorant of the fire of the coming judgment and eternal punishment stored up for the ungodly. But why do you delay? Do what you want.”

Finally, the proconsul sent a herald to the middle of the stadium to
announce that Polycarp was confessing his faith as a Christian. The crowd
shouted for Philip the Asiarch to send a lion against Polycarp, but he
refused. Then they shouted for Polycarp to be burned. They moved him
to the marketplace and prepared the pyre. Polycarp undressed and climbed up. But when they were going to nail him to the pyre, he told them, “Leave me like this. He who gives me to endure the fire will also give me to remain on the pyre without your security from the nails.” So they did not nail him but tied him up. Bravely, Polycarp prayed as the soldiers prepared the wood:

O Lord God almighty, Father of Your beloved and blessed
Son Jesus Christ, through whom we have received knowledge
of You, God of angels and powers and all creation, and of the
whole race of the righteous who live before You, I bless You
that You considered me worthy of this day and hour, to
receive a part in the number of the martyrs in the cup of Your
Christ, for the resurrection to eternal life both of soul and of
body in the incorruptibility of the Holy Spirit. Among them
may I be welcomed before You today by a fat and acceptable
sacrifice, just as you previously prepared and made known and You fulfilled, the deceitless and true God. Because of this,
and for all things, I praise You, I bless You, I glorify You,
through the eternal and heavenly high priest Jesus Christ,
Your beloved Son, through whom be glory to You with Him
and the Holy Spirit both now and for ages to come. Amen.

The Romans had threatened Polycarp with beasts and with fire, but
nothing would make him turn against Christ. After his prayer, the men
lit the pyre, which sprang up quickly. But even the fire wouldn’t touch
him as it formed an arch around Polycarp’s body. The Romans didn’t
know what to make of this. In the end, the Romans commanded an
executioner to stab him. A great quantity of blood put out the remaining
fire, and Polycarp bled to death.

“So that the tested genuineness
of your faith—more precious
than gold that perishes though
it is tested by fire—may be found
to result in praise and glory
and honor at the revelation
of Jesus Christ.”
1 Peter 1:7

Paul spent time in Rome twice, on both occasions at the expense of
the Roman Empire. Neither his travel arrangements nor his accommodations were first class, but they suited the apostle well. Throughout Acts and his letters, Paul conveys an unmistakable sense that his time was short, and he was grateful for every moment he was given. Paul understood God’s grace, not simply as a great theological concept, but also as his own reason for living. He appreciated God’s grace because he knew he needed so much of it.

His final thoughts had little to do with regrets and much to do
with the satisfaction that flows from grace-drenched living. He wrote
to Timothy:

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“For I am already being poured out as a drink offering, and
the time of my departure has come. I have fought the good
fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Hence forth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that day, and not only to me but also to all who have loved his appearing” (2 Timothy 4:6-8).

While he lived, Paul certainly traveled broadly, proclaiming the
Gospel everywhere he went. Perhaps his statement to the Colossians sums
up his heart the best: “Him we proclaim, warning everyone and teaching
everyone with all wisdom, that we may present everyone mature in
Christ. For this I toil, struggling with all his energy that he powerfully
works within me” (Colossians 1:28-29).

One of the greatest ironies in Paul’s life is that he accomplished a lot
to spread the Gospel even while he was persecuting the church. His rabid
efforts to hunt down Christians in and around Jerusalem scattered believers to the wind, planting the Gospel seeds everywhere they went.

Truly God uses even the plans and efforts of evil men to accomplish
His will. But once Paul turned around after his confrontation with Jesus
on the road to Damascus, all the fiery intensity of his former life was
now channeled into his efforts for Christ. He produced almost half the
New Testament writings with the letters he sent to the churches. He
set the standard for missionary living. He pioneered evangelistic practices. He planted several dozen churches. He fearlessly applied God’s
love and grace to the non-Jewish world, and was hounded for his
faithfulness by those who should have cheered him on. The one who
once persecuted Jesus Christ became the one who spent the rest of his
days promoting Christ.

Fortunately, Paul has given us an idea of the treatment he received
as part and parcel of his work as an evangelist in the ancient world.
While the following list of highlights may make us shudder at the cost
paid by God’s servant, it also serves as an indicator of the common
experiences of those who followed Jesus. They risked everything for
the good news.

The salvation we have Jesus bought for us on the cross—a price
beyond measure. The faith we claim has been delivered to us by many
willing to pay the price of faithfulness.

“Five times I received at the hands of the Jews the forty lashes
less one. Three times I was beaten with rods. Once I was
stoned. Three times I was shipwrecked; a night and a day I
was adrift at sea; on frequent journeys, in danger from rivers,
danger from robbers, danger from my own people, danger
from Gentiles, danger in the city, danger in the wilderness,
danger at sea, danger from false brothers; in toil and hardship,
through many a sleepless night, in hunger and thirst, often without food, in cold and exposure. And, apart from other things, there is the daily pressure on me of my anxiety for all the churches” (2 Corinthians 11:24-28).

We miss a significant lesson from Paul’s life if we make suffering
our goal. Suffering is not an accurate measurement of obedience or
faithfulness. Disobedience and faithlessness can also bring suffering.
When suffering becomes a goal, pride is often the hidden motivation.
Suffering is an unpredictable byproduct of obedience and faithfulness.
But it’s only a small part of an even greater unpredictable aspect of life
in Christ—joy! The example of the great martyrs of the faith is one of
joyful, carefree living.

They didn’t relish suffering, but they didn’t run from it either. They
learned, as did Paul, the principle of radical contentment:

“Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in
whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be
brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every
circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and
hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him
who strengthens me” (Philippians 4:11-13).

Paul let nothing but God’s Spirit hinder him from going to the ends
of the earth. The timeline of his life, stories from tradition, and references
in Scripture to places, such as his desire to minister in Spain (Romans
15:23-24), allow us to consider that the range of his travels took him
from Arabia to the British Isles. The six years of silence between his two
Roman imprisonments provide room for wide travels.

The apostle’s final destination this side of eternity was a spot on the
Ostian Way just outside the walls of Rome. Tradition has it that the
former Pharisee was beheaded beyond the gates. He fought the good
fight, finished the race, and kept the faith. He is a significant reasons
why we can do the same today.

This story is an excerpt from Foxe: Voices of the Martyrs. You can get your own copy free with any donation to The Voice of the Martyrs.

We find it easy to imagine Simon Peter, the rock, smiling over the
immense irony of Jesus’s call on his life as Peter wrote these lines: “As you
come to him, a living stone rejected by men but in the sight of God chosen
and precious, you yourselves like living stones are being built up as a
spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. For it stands in Scripture: ‘Behold, I am laying in Zion a stone, a cornerstone chosen and precious, and whoever believes in him will not be put to shame’” (1 Peter 2:4-6).

Peter knew firsthand the depth of that promise of never being put to
shame. He knew the unspeakable joy that comes when, in the midst of
the overwhelming facts and feelings of failure, Jesus steps in and says, “I
still have work for you to do.” In the biblical record, Jesus’s first and last
words to Peter were, “Follow me” (Mark 1:17; John 21:22). History tells
us Peter did just that. From the out-of-the-way shore of Galilee to the
center-of-the-world hallways of Rome, Peter followed Jesus. From laying
down his nets to laying down his life, Peter learned and practiced fishing
for men and women. It remains clear that Peter is one of our finest
examples of what it means to be a martyr. He lived a full life and he died
a faithful death for Christ.

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Given the obvious leadership role that Peter had among the disciples
and in the early church, it is interesting to see how faithfully the gospels
record his fumbling efforts. The disciples as a group comprehended neither what Jesus was doing nor why, and Peter usually made public their lack of
understanding. His impulsive nature allowed him to sometimes blurt out
the truth, but more often to state the mistake. Though the resurrection of
Jesus transformed an average group of disciples into a powerful force for
the Gospel, those who knew them never forgot their background. The
gospel writers could have easily shaped the stories of the ministry days with Jesus in order to make the first leaders of the church more heroic. They resisted that temptation. Instead, they gave us the truth—God’s Word. They gave us accounts into which we can fit ourselves. The ordinary people who spent time with Jesus are people to whom we can relate. The fact that they became apostolic witnesses simply reminds us that God desires also to do something through us in order to bring glory to His name.

When it comes to Peter’s missionary efforts, the first twelve chapters
of Acts record the exciting events of the initial years of the movement that
began with Jesus’s command to make disciples throughout the world.
Peter’s first sermon on the Day of Pentecost seemed to open the floodgates of new believers, but the spread of the Gospel was at first limited to Jews and proselytes (those Gentiles who had become “naturalized” Jews). God used Peter’s visit to a Roman soldier’s household to confirm Jesus’s inclusion of people from every nation as candidates for the good news of salvation. Cornelius became the test case for Gentile conversions.

Peter departs the Acts account suddenly in chapter 12. He had just been
miraculously freed from prison and had briefly visited the believers who
were gathered together praying for him at Mary’s house. They had prayed
for Peter’s safety, and God had answered by having Peter knock at the door. Because he was technically a prison escapee, Peter’s life was in added danger. Luke notes Peter’s parting message: “But motioning to them with his hand to be silent, he described to them how the Lord had brought him out of the prison. And he said, ‘Tell these things to James and to the brothers.’ Then he departed and went to another place” (Acts 12:17).

The “other place” where Peter went has been the subject of both tradition and legend. Traditional accounts for Peter’s travels focus primarily on
time spent in Babylon (to the east) or Rome (to the west). In support of
Peter’s ministry in Babylon, we have the apostle’s apparent location mentioned in 1 Peter 5:13: “She who is at Babylon, who is likewise chosen,
sends you greetings, and so does Mark, my son.” The Eastern branch of
the church claims that Peter was instrumental in planting the Gospel there.
In support of Peter’s ministry in Rome, we have the obvious case that he
did end up in Rome and was martyred there. As to his founding the church
in Rome, we have little direct evidence, but someone did bring the Gospel
to the Roman Empire’s capital, for when Paul wrote his letter to Rome,
there was already a thriving church there. But if Peter was already in Rome
at the time, it seems strange that Paul didn’t mention him among his various detailed greetings in that letter. What we know from Acts is that Peter was somewhere, busy sharing the Gospel.

It has often been noted that when Jesus and Peter walked on the
shore of Galilee for the last time, the Lord not only reinstated His call
on Peter’s life, but also gave Peter an inkling of the end that awaited him.

“‘Truly, truly, I say to you, when you were young, you used to
dress yourself and walk wherever you wanted, but when you
are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will dress
you and carry you where you do not want to go.’ (This he said
to show by what kind of death he was to glorify God.) And after
saying this he said to him, ‘Follow me'” (John 21:18-19).

It’s not where we go and what happens to us that matters all that
much. What does matter is how we respond when Jesus comes to us and
says, “Follow me.”

Peter’s final days in Rome are not described in the Scriptures, but
various traditional accounts have survived. Reportedly he spent horrific months in the infamous Mamertine Prison, a place where incarceration was often itself a death sentence. Though manacled and mistreated, Peter survived the tortures and apparently communicated the Gospel effectively to his guards. Eventually he was hauled out of the dungeon, taken to Nero’s Circus, and there crucified upside down because he did not consider himself worthy to be crucified with his head upward, like Christ.

This story is an excerpt from Foxe: Voices of the Martyrs. You can get your own copy free with any donation to The Voice of the Martyrs.

An ascetic hermit from the East and unknown except for his final
act, Telemachus journeyed to Rome just in time for the victory celebrations. After years of aggressive invasions from the continent, Rome had finally defeated the Goth king Alaric in northern Italy in 403.

As was common in those times, extravagant gladiatorial contests were
held in celebration of military victories. The twenty-year-old emperor
Honorius decreed that this particular celebration would be held in the
50,000-capacity Coliseum, a battleground named for the colossal 130-
foot statue of Nero nearby, the emperor made famous for condemning
Christians into human torches. If there was one place in all of Rome that
a pacifist Christian might consider avoiding, the Coliseum was it. Telemachus, a “rudely clad man of rough but imposing presence,” resolved to interrupt, indeed to stop, the bloody contest in the Coliseum.

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Thousands had gathered that day. Cries of “habet, hoc habet”
erupted from the crowds—“He has had it!” they cried every time a
fighter was mortally wounded. In this atmosphere Telemachus jumped
from the crowd into the arena itself, no longer spectator but activist,
peacemaker, preacher.

“Do not requite God’s mercy,” he screamed, “in turning away the
swords of your enemies by murdering each other!” Certainly the crowd
heard him, but the gladiators continued fighting. Telemachus ran
between the gladiators, pleading with them to stop. “Sedition! Sedition!
Down with him!” roared the crowd. “This is no place for preaching! The old customs of Rome must be observed! On, gladiators!” Still, Telemachus continued to turn from one encounter to another, stopping gladiators in mid-fight. Then, frustrated by the annoyance of one man
interrupting the games, someone pulled a sword and, thrusting it,
Telemachus fell. Joining in, the crowd threw stones down from their seats
to the arena below.

News quickly spread throughout Rome that the murdered man was
the hermit Telemachus. Rome was shocked, as was Emperor Honorius,
that such a gentle man had been slain. Telemachus’s courage and boldness
to speak God’s mercy and love changed the games forever. A man bent
on peace, Telemachus lost his life fighting in the grandest battleground
of Rome. Soon after his death, gladiatorial battles were banned from the
Coliseum. Telemachus had achieved the impossible.

“For to this you have been
called, because Christ also
suffered for you, leaving you
an example, so that you
might follow in his steps.
He committed no sin, neither
was deceit found in his mouth.
When he was reviled, he did
not revile in return; when
he suffered, he did not
threaten, but continued
entrusting himself to him
who judges justly.”
1 Peter 2:21-23

This story is an excerpt from Foxe: Voices of the Martyrs. You can get your own copy free with any donation to The Voice of the Martyrs.

The Coliseum had never before seen such a spectacle. Perpetua came
from a wealthy family. Her father was pagan but her mother and brothers were Christians. Perpetua had a nursing baby at the time of her arrest
for confessing Christ. Her father urged her to renounce faith, for his
sake and for her family. Even Roman authorities urged her to offer a
simple sacrifice to Roman power. She refused. She would not renounce
Christ as Lord, claiming that the name that belonged to her was the
name of a Christian.

Felicity was a slave—and pregnant. Since Roman law prohibited
the execution of pregnant women, sentence was delayed. Felicity gave
birth in prison to a baby girl that would be adopted by Christians. When
prison guards wondered how she would handle facing beasts in the
arena, especially so soon after her child’s birth, she responded, “Now
my sufferings are only mine. But when I face the beasts there will be
another who will live in me, and will suffer for me since I shall be suffering for Him.”

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These two women from different classes showed fortitude, determination, and, remarkably, even joy at the prospects of public humiliation
and suffering. Several times they refused offers of acquittal and ignored pleas to save themselves. Together they clung to heavenly hope, and to
each other, for endurance through the ordeal. Rather than acquiesce to
Roman demands, they asked to be baptized while in prison. Perpetua
stated, “The dungeon is to me a palace.” Amazingly, when Perpetua was
told beasts would devour her, she and her companions returned to prison
in high spirits at the prospect of death for the glory of God. Three men
imprisoned with them were forced to run the gladiator gauntlet: two
were killed by beasts; one was beheaded.

As for Perpetua, she was the picture of poise in the center of chaos
and blood. When the bull tossed her but did not hurt her, Perpetua’s hair
came undone. She asked to be allowed to put her hair up because undone
hair was a sign of mourning, but this was a day for triumph and joy.

Blandina, a slave girl, was the last to die. She was hanged from a post
and exposed to wild animals, but they would not attack. She was repeatedly tortured and eventually trapped in a net, trampled by a bull. All of the martyrs’ bodies were left unburied and guarded by soldiers.

Such courage made a mark on the Romans. These three women and
Christians had stood together and died together. Several spectators converted to Christianity as a result, including the governor of Rome.

This story is an excerpt from Foxe: Voices of the Martyrs. You can get your own copy free with any donation to The Voice of the Martyrs.

James’s death turned out to be a political experiment on Herod’s
part. He must have been sick and tired of the bickering in his court
over the Christ-followers who seemed to be spreading like an infection. They didn’t do anything wrong except provoke extreme hatred
from others. But when the old politician saw the excited response to
James’s death among his political allies, Herod decided he could
afford to eliminate a few more of these Christians. His attempt to kill
Peter failed, and before he could devise a further plan, he was distracted by a crisis in another part of his kingdom. Herod died shortly
thereafter when “an angel of the Lord struck him down, because he
did not give God the glory, and he was eaten by worms and breathed
his last” (Acts 12:23).

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James, the son of Zebedee, has the noteworthy distinction of being
the first apostolic martyr. His death came within fourteen years of Jesus’s
resurrection and ascension. Only Stephen anteceded James among the
well-known early martyrs. Stephen’s death and Saul’s persecution must
have made it clear to the apostles that things were not going to go well
in the area of personal safety. After all, His presence, not preservation,
had been Jesus’s promise in the Great Commission, when He said, “And
behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age” (Matthew 28:20).

Curiously, James and his brother John were confronted by Jesus at
one point after their mother asked the Lord for a special privilege for her
sons. Jesus asked, “Are you able to drink the cup that I am to drink?”
(Matthew 20:22). Though they most likely had no idea to what He was
referring, the brothers immediately said, “We are able.” They thought
they were about to get a privilege above the other ten disciples.

Jesus responded, “You will drink My cup…” (Matthew 20:23). His
words were prophetic. James was the first to die; John the last. Their
deaths formed the bookends in the stories of apostolic martyrdom.

Of the three disciples with whom Jesus spent extra time (Peter,
James, and John), we have the least information about James. His own
brother, John, never mentions him (or himself, for that matter) by name
in the gospel he wrote. James, the son of Zebedee, is called “the Great”
merely to differentiate him from James, the son of Alphaeus (“the Less”),
one of the other disciples.

In the context of history, fourteen years doesn’t represent a large
time span. But Jesus’s active ministry covered only three years. The
question becomes, then, what were James and the other apostles doing
during those first fourteen years before James died at the hands of
Herod’s soldiers?

During the years following Jesus’s ascension, an uneasy relationship developed between the growing movement of Christians in Jerusalem, those Jewish leaders who had rejected Christ’s claims and
helped to have Him killed, and the Roman authorities who were
charged with keeping the peace. Order was often maintained by the
use of threats and torture. The early chapters of the book of Acts
provide glimpses of the ebb and flow of the persecution of believers.
But Luke records a significant moment involving Gamaliel, the rabbi
who was Saul’s mentor. He wasn’t opposed to the persecution of believers, but he cautioned his fellow members of the Sanhedrin against
killing Christians. He understood the power of martyrdom. Gamaliel
said, “So in the present case I tell you, keep away from these men and
let them alone, for if this plan or this undertaking is of man, it will fail; but if it is of God, you will not be able to overthrow them. You might even be found opposing God!” (Acts 5:38-39). This tactic of toleration may have kept many believers in Jerusalem and thus slowed down the process of taking the Gospel to the world. Stephen’s and James’s deaths eventually changed all of that. (The fall of Jerusalem in AD 70 scattered the church to the winds.)

The death of Stephen almost seems like an unusual case in which
things got out of hand. But packing Christians off to prison became part
of life in Jerusalem. Saul apparently had success in intimidating Christians to the point that many left Jerusalem for safer places. This had the
benefit of spreading the Gospel, something that Saul certainly didn’t
intend at that point in his life. Nor did he intend to be confronted by the
Lord on the road to Damascus. But when Saul (Paul) defected as the chief
persecuting official of the Sanhedrin, the situation in Jerusalem became
a stalemate again for a number of years.

An ancient church in Spain claims to contain at least some of the
remains of James’s body. This gave rise to the tradition that James may
have left Jerusalem for a number of years on a mission journey to Spain
before his death. There seems to be little reason why Luke would not
have included some reference in Acts to that effect among his notes about
outreach. But it does appeal to our pioneering view of missions that one
of the apostolic fishermen would embark for a long voyage to the far end
of the Mediterranean—the ends of the earth—and seek to carry out
Christ’s commission there.

“And you will be hated
by all for my name’s sake.
But the one who endures
to the end will be saved.”
Mark 13:13

This story is an excerpt from Foxe: Voices of the Martyrs. You can get your own copy free with any donation to The Voice of the Martyrs.

Philip the apostle came from Bethsaida, a town in northern Israel
close to Capernaum and the Sea of Galilee. His non-Jewish name may
indicate the degree to which Bethsaida was influenced by the Greek
culture and government language that preceded the Roman occupation,
a time when Alexander the Great had spread Greek influence across the
world. The fact that Koine Greek, not Latin, was a trade and official
language of the times indicates that Rome didn’t rule everything.

John gives us four glimpses of Philip in action. When Jesus called
Philip to follow Him (John 1:43), the young disciple immediately sought
out his friend Nathanael and invited him to meet Jesus. He was clearly
a young man more prone to see himself as a channel than a destination.
Once he received information, he determined to act on it. Philip also
spoke up in the discussion before the feeding of the five thousand, offering his estimate of what it would cost to buy food for such a large crowd (John 6:7). His practical observation regarding the lack of means or money simply highlighted Jesus’s miraculous action. Circumstances that look and are impossible do not hinder God from working. On another occasion, when a group of Greek speakers wanted to approach Jesus, they contacted Philip to act as an intermediary. John mentions Philip’s connection with Bethsaida as the reason for their strategy (John 12:21).

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John also remembered Philip’s request to Jesus during the Last Supper: “Philip said to Him, ‘Lord, show us the Father, and it is enough for
us’” (John 14:8). Jesus’s answer to Philip was for all the disciples: “Have
I been with you so long, and you still do not know me, Philip? Whoever
has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, ‘Show us the Father’?
Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me? The
words that I say to you I do not speak on my own authority, but the
Father who dwells in me does his works” (John 14:9-10).

Jesus told the disciples everything they would need to remember
later, after the reality of the resurrection had wiped out their tendency
toward unbelief. Philip’s Greek name, his multilingual abilities, and his
outgoing personality all combined with his vibrant faith in the risen
Christ to make him an equipped messenger for the Gospel.

One of the unique features surrounding the apostle Philip is his connection with the area we now know as France. He is the only apostolic
figure claimed to have carried the Gospel to the Gauls, the ancient
inhabitants of that region. Philip the apostle has also been traditionally
linked with Hierapolis in western Turkey. The church he led in that city
was just outside the circle of seven churches mentioned by John in the
first chapters of Revelation. His proximity to the apostle John may
explain why John’s gospel features Philip’s words and actions.

Culturally, Hierapolis had a Phrygian background, and the regional
religion focused on the god Sabazios, represented by a snake. Geographically, Hierapolis was the site of magnificent mineral springs—rumored to have healing powers—that drew people from many parts of the world. This gathering of various nationalities would have attracted an apostolic missionary. Historically, Hierapolis became a largely Christian city. The church may have been planted as a result of Paul’s journeys, though the city is not mentioned in his itineraries. The ruins of Hierapolis today
include the remains of several ancient churches. Philip may have paid
with his life in order to sustain the church. The pagan priests of Hierapolis may have been delighted to profit from visitors from many places of
the world, but they didn’t appreciate having their religion directly challenged as Philip’s message would have done.

Crucifixion was a favored punishment by the Romans, but the practice may have become even more widely known because of its prominence
in the preaching of Jesus’s followers. This could explain why so many of
the early missionaries were themselves crucified. In Philip’s case, the
religious establishment apparently arranged for him to be crucified and
stoned. Obviously, their tactic once again proved ineffective in stopping
the Gospel.

“If you abide in my word,
you are truly my disciples,
and you will know the truth,
and the truth will set you free.”
John 8:31-32

This story is an excerpt from Foxe: Voices of the Martyrs. You can get your own copy free with any donation to The Voice of the Martyrs.

According to the biblical account, Andrew was the first of the
apostolic band to discover Jesus in his unique role as Lamb of God who
takes away the sin of the world. Andrew was standing beside John the
Baptist when the fiery prophet pointed out Jesus as the One he had
come to announce. We don’t know if Andrew witnessed Jesus’s baptism, but John the Baptist probably identified Jesus, who had just
returned from His forty-day wilderness experience that had immediately followed His baptism.

Andrew and his unnamed companion (probably John) approached
Jesus. Jesus invited them to spend time with Him. They immediately
broadened that invitation to include Simon. Within a couple of days,
both Philip and Nathanael joined that small group of seekers. They were
with Jesus when He returned to Cana for a wedding, witnessing Jesus’s
first miracle. Not long after this, Jesus called Simon and Andrew to leave
their nets and follow Him. Andrew never looked back.

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Andrew took time for individual people. He noticed their needs and
qualities and understood them. He quietly took action. He connected
people with each other. He connected them with Christ. He introduced
his big brother to Jesus. He was instrumental in other significant introductions, making an impact in people’s lives, one by one. In the end,
tradition tells us, this great quality in the first disciple got him killed.

Andrew is seldom mentioned in the accounts of Jesus’s action, but
he was a constant presence. His few moments in the spotlight reveal
that he was always aware of what was going on and looking for ways
to be helpful.

In John’s account of the feeding of the five thousand (John 6:4-13),
Andrew is the one who offered the quiet suggestion that he had just
spoken with a lad who had five loaves and two fishes. Not much, but
something! And what Jesus did with that little gift was astounding.
John 12:20-26 describes a group of Greeks who wanted to meet Jesus.
They singled out Philip to approach, probably because of his Greek
name, but it’s worth noting that Philip asked Andrew to help him make
the introductions. Andrew’s last appearance by name in Scripture
occurs in Acts 1:13 where he is listed among the eleven disciples as they
chose Matthias to replace Judas. He was doubtless present during those
exciting and turbulent early years in Jerusalem, serving among the
leaders of the church.

While Andrew’s eventual missionary travels may have taken him as
far north as Scythia (southern Russia) and included time around Ephesus
with John, he likely ended up on the Greek peninsula in the city of Patras.
There he began to relate to individuals and introduce them to the Savior.
Among the converts was a woman named Maximilla, the wife of a high
Roman official, a governor named Aegaeas, who was so angry at his
wife’s conversion he threatened Andrew with death by crucifixion. To
this, Andrew replied, “Had I feared the death of the cross, I should not
have preached the majesty and gloriousness of Christ.”

Andrew was arrested and tried. Threatened, scourged, and tortured,
he remained steadfast. It is said that the judge pleaded with Andrew not to cast aside his life, and the old apostle responded with equal passion,
urging the judge not to cast aside his soul.

Unwilling to recant his faith in Christ, Andrew was tied to an
X-shaped cross to die a slow and painful death. This particular cross is
still called St. Andrew’s cross. One source says that when Andrew came
near it, he said, “O beloved cross! I have greatly longed for thee. I rejoice
to see thee erected here. I come to thee with a peaceful conscience and
with cheerfulness, desiring that I, who am a disciple of Him Who hung
on the cross, may also be crucified. The nearer I come to the cross, the
nearer I come to God; and the farther I am from the cross, the farther I
remain from God.”

Andrew hung for three days on the cross; and during this time he
taught the people who stood near him, saying such things as: “I thank
my Lord Jesus Christ, that He, having used me for a time as an ambassador, now permits me to have this body, that I, through a good confession, may obtain everlasting grace and mercy. Remain steadfast in the word and doctrine which you have received, instructing one another,
that you may dwell with God in eternity, and receive the fruit of His
promises.” Only Heaven will reveal the thousands upon thousands of
lives that were eventually transformed by Andrew’s quiet and persistent
work behind the scenes, touching one life at a time.

“Precious in the sight
of the Lord is the death
of His saints.”
Psalm 116:15

This story is an excerpt from Foxe: Voices of the Martyrs. You can get your own copy free with any donation to The Voice of the Martyrs.