The Wings of an Eagle

Matthew 5:10 (KJV) Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness' sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

      Samuel Rutherford, a Scottish pastor from the 1600’s, wrote from his prison cell, "I never knew by my nine years of preaching so much of Christ's love, as He taught me in Aberdeen by six months imprisonment. Christ's cross is such a burden as sails are to a ship or wings to a bird.”

     In Acts 5:41 the Apostles “departed the presence of the council”, which had just beaten them and commanded they stop preaching in Jesus name, “rejoicing that they were counted worthy to suffer shame for his name.”

      And in our own time, a Romanian pastor described how he was imprisoned and tortured mercilessly and yet experienced joy. Locked in solitary confinement, he had been summoned by his captors, who cut chunks of flesh from his body, and was then returned to his cell, where he was starved. Yet in the midst of this sadism, there were times when the joy of Christ so overcame him that he would pull himself up and shuffle about the cell in holy dance. So remarkable was his joy that on his release from prison and his return to his home, he chose to fast the first day in memorial to the joy he had known in prison.

      The annals of the Church overflow with such accounts. I recently watched a video called “Father of Lights” that recorded the interview of a man imprisoned in the Middle East where his captors burned him with cigarettes all over his body. When asked how he endured the torture he stated that every time they would burn him Jesus would embrace him. The interviewer stopped and asked do you mean you felt Jesus? He replied, “No, he was there. He comforted me.”

     It is in the midst of our darkest night that we have the greatest opportunity of our life to experience grace. Not a theoretical dissertation but the mighty hand of God extended to us. A touch that brings us from the clutch of the tormentor to be seated in the Heavenlies with the King Himself, for a child of God there is no greater reward. Even now my spirit stirs as I think of the God of all Comfort moving on my behalf, reaching through the vastness of space to uphold my hands and breathe upon the wounds inflicted for His Name sake. What could move Him more than to know that just as His body bore the stripes and wounds for me, I offer my body as a living sacrifice unto Him. There is no greater place of worship.

      My spirit is willing, but I must admit my flesh is weak. No one wants to suffer the torments of unspeakable evil and to do so for any other reason is folly. But when we lay down our life for the Master – The Kingdom belongs to a child.

      If you wish to read more accounts of saints that were martyred for the Kingdom, I recommend “Foxes Book of Martyrs” Amazing true stories of the Kingdom.