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For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Romans 8:38-39
Reflect
Our society loves to celebrate heroes. Earlier this month, we honored the 25th anniversary of the September 11th attacks, and a big part of that was remembering the firefighters and police officers who charged into the Twin Towers to save people, even though so many of those heroes had to know that the buildings could collapse at any moment. Those men and women willingly sacrificed their lives for others, and that should always be honored.
But then there are the people who willingly sacrifice their lives for their faith—martyrs. In our age of self-indulgence, martyrdom is often seen as foolishness. After all, why would someone give up their life for something as nebulous as a religious belief? You’d probably be surprised to find out how often that happens, even today. According to the most recent Open Doors World Watch List, 4,849 Christians were killed for faith-related reasons during its reporting period—more than 13 every day. But it’s nothing new. Christ-followers have put their lives at risk for their Savior since the earliest days of the church.
One that you might not be aware of is a man named Polycarp—a second-century bishop of the church in Smyrna, which is located within the modern-day city of İzmir in Turkey. Early church tradition says that, as a younger man, Polycarp had been a disciple of John, and he became one of the most important early church fathers after the original apostles had all died.
When he was an old man, around A.D. 155 or 156, Polycarp was brought before Roman authorities and ordered to swear allegiance to Caesar and renounce Christ. He refused. For this, he was condemned to death and sentenced to be burned at the stake. According to the ancient account of his martyrdom, when the flames did not kill him, an executioner was ordered to stab him. But before his death, he was given one last opportunity to renounce the Lord. His reply?
“Eighty and six years I have served Him, and He has done me no wrong. How then can I blaspheme my King and Savior?”
There is a deep peace that comes to us when the Spirit of the Lord is in us. It is the Spirit that comforts us, strengthens us and sustains us as we experience the grief and sorrow of this world.
How many people had their faith strengthened by Polycarp’s testimony—not only at the time of his death but in the close to 1,900 years since then? Think about the people who watched this scene play out. How many of them might have had to reexamine their own purpose for living? And how many came to faith in Christ as a result of Polycarp’s testimony and death?
I don’t desire to die a martyr’s death, but I hope that if that day ever came I could stand up for Christ as he did. Polycarp is the kind of representative for Christ that I long to be—one whose words convey the big picture of eternal life in heaven, and whose earthly mission is to make sure that the heaven-bound train has as many passengers as it can carry.
I pray today that you never have to face a literal fire as a test of your faith. But at some point, we all will likely face a figurative fire—a test of our faith that requires that we affirm exactly who we serve. I hope that you are encouraged by the words and actions of Polycarp and that when your day comes you can stand as he did and lift high the name of Jesus to those who need to see Him.
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Reflection copyright © 2026 Doug DeBolt and Charles Fulton.
