From the
beginning, our Lord Jesus Christ calls us to a radical way of life – to a life rooted
in the Gospel and striking – as with an axe – at the roots of evil in our
hearts. Not always to ease and to comfort – but first to the cross. Our
resurrection to eternal life where there is no pain, sorrow, nor mourning is
attained only through suffering, and
death, and the cross. “Take up your cross and follow me” Jesus teaches. And for
most of us this possible only as a metaphor. But for many of those to whom he
first spoke these words they were terribly, literally true. Andrew was crucified,
and Peter, and Philip. They were literally crucified – bound or nailed to crosses
and left to die in agony and ignominy.
Amazingly,
this did not end at the close of the apostolic age. It is a kind of martyrdom
suffered even in recent times. Tomorrow we commemorate the apostle Peter, who
died this way, and the day after that we commemorate Fr. Zenon Kovalyk who, in
1941, was tortured and
murdered in a mock crucifixion against a wall in a prison in Lviv. Fr. Zenon preached according to his conscience. Even when he had been
warned that his sermons were likely to provoke the Bolsheviks, he preached on.
And for that they arrested him and locked him in a prison that, poignantly, had
formerly been a monastery. And not long after, they crucified him. So, the
events of the apostolic age are not so remote from our age as we might imagine.
Fr. Zenon of the twentieth century, like Peter of the first, knows fully what
Jesus means when he says to take up the cross.
For
centuries the early Church endured terrible, periodic persecutions. For their
faith, the martyrs suffered unspeakable tortures and deaths. And their blood
was the wellspring of the Church. From their blood sprouted new life all the
time – conversions to Christ left and right. Those who witnessed the martyrs’
courage – how easily, how blithely, they gave up this passing life in exchange
for the life that lasts in Christ Jesus – how – almost nonchalantly – they turned
themselves over to wild beasts, to the torturers, to fire, to freezing, to
drowning, to crucifixion in order to gain the one thing that matters then as
now – union with God in Christ Jesus – even in his death. Those who witnessed
this were so moved that in more than one instance, they too gave themselves
over to Christ and joined the martyrs in death. That is a great purpose of
martyrdom – to give witness. The word “martyr” means “witness.” There is no
greater evangelism – no better way to testify the good news that Christ is
risen and by death has trampled death – than the small account the martyrs give
death. For what is it to suffer death if there is in Christ a resurrection to
eternal life? The martyrs are like the merchant who sells all he has in order
to go and buy the pearl of great price. They know that he who does not take up
his cross and follow Christ is not worthy of Christ (Matt 10:38).
Eventually,
through the witness of the early martyrs, so many came into the Church that the
persecutions became less frequent and Christianity became the religion of the
empire. And so it was no longer quite so courageous to claim faith in Jesus
Christ. In fact, in many cases, it became socially or politically advantageous
to profess Christianity, and there were many insincere conversions. The
toleration of Christianity came as a mixed blessing, therefore. And still,
Christ was calling his people to a radical way of life – to a renunciation of
the things of this world – but this could no longer be commonly expressed by the
red martyrdom of blood.
And so
there was the rise of monasticism. Beginning, in many ways, with St. Anthony
the Great, men and women in significant numbers began to go to the desert and
to live ascetical lives devoted to the Lord. Though yet alive on earth, they
lived as though they had already died. And so there is a connection between
martyrdom and monasticism. Both are radical, both a kind of death, both are eschatological
– they give witness to the life of the coming kingdom of God.
The Church
was so long allied with state power that many, at least in the West, which was somewhat
more insulated from Islamic persecutions, must have thought that the age of Christian
martyrs was gone. But in the twentieth century, the enemies of Christ
would spill more Christian blood than had been spilled in all the centuries before.
And just as martyrdom had centuries before led to monasticism, so would
monasticism for many now lead to martyrdom.
A case
in point is to be found in the Byantine Catholic Church. Today we commemorate two holy and
venerable new martyrs, Fr Severian Baranyk and Fr Yakym Senkivskyi. These holy men both
embraced a monastic life in the Basilian monastery in Drohobych. And for both,
their monasticism would lead to their martyrdom in 1941.
For
a long time before this, the Church was relatively comfortable and free from persecution in
Ukraine and in that part of the world. But the radical commitment to Christ
lived on, among other places, in the monasteries, where it is still always possible to
give up your whole life to Christ as a witness to his gospel.
Here
in the monastery the courage of the martyrs was lying in wait for the enemy to
come and to crucify. The people of Christ had not abandoned Christ’s message.
Still they clung to his cross and to their own. And so when the enemy came,
they were ready.
Frs.
Severian and Yakym would exchange their cells in Drohobych monastery for cells
in Drohobych prison. They, together with the many other martyrs of our Church commemorated this week, such as Fr. Zenon, about whom I’ve spoken, serve as
models for us of the greatest love, of radical commitment to Christ and to His
Church in the face of adversity from the worldly powers that be.
Before
they died for Christ, they lived for him. Fr. Severian, Hegumen of the monastery
in Drohobych, was known for his habitual joy and for his work with the young people and orphans. Fr. Yakym, Proto-Hegumen of the same monastery, had devoted
himself first to theology and then to many years of pastoral work. He was
gifted and he ministered both to scholars and to laborers, both to young and to old, with warmth and humility. These two
really ordinary and holy men of God were arrested on the same day in June of
1941 and taken to the prison in Drohobych. Fr. Severian was tortured to death.
His body was broken and on his chest the cross was cut . Fr. Yakym was boiled
to death in a cauldron.
One
might expect that, in the face of such atrocities, the Christians would learn
not to stick out their necks. Not so. As soon as Frs. Severian and Yakym were
arrested, a Fr. Vitaliy Bairak was appointed Hegumen of Drohobych Monastery. And
he bravely stepped up to the post only to face the same consequence four years
later. He was arrested and beaten to death in prison. Just as in the age of the
early martyrs, the courage of the martyrs inspired others to join them.
There
are lessons for us in all of this. It is essential that we establish, support,
and maintain monastic life in our Churches. It provides for us a model and
preparation for martyrdom even when we are not enduring persecutions of such
magnitude. I hope and pray that we do not face tortures and slaughters as did
the many new martyrs we celebrate this week, but we must always be prepared
even for that. To this end, the ascetic practices of monastic life can and must be incorporated
in our own lives to a certain extent, such as by our participation in th fasts - including the Apostles' Fast, which we are not concluding. We must maintain the spirit of
willingness even to die for Christ, because unless we take up our cross and
follow him, we will not be worthy of him. Unless we go even to death in Christ,
we cannot ultimately live in Christ.
