Today in church we sang about the holy martyr Barbara and I read about the sufferings of St. Nicholas posted in the bulletin.
The bulletin depicted tortures St. Barbara underwent for the faith under the reign of Maximian, “They beat Barbara fiercely: they struck her with rawhide, and rubbed her wounds with a hair cloth to increase her pain…Then they subjected her to new, and even more frightful tortures.”
And we sing of her, “Let us honor the holy martyr Barbara, for, as a bird, she escaped the snares of the Enemy, and destroyed them through the help and defense of the Cross!”
And read of St. Nicholas, “Though he was not a martyr, St. Nicholas suffered greatly in his life, and had to stand up to powerful forces that could have undermined the Church.” He too endured prison and tortures from without…and he battled heresies within the Church.
Of him we sing, “In truth you were revealed to your flock as a rule of faith /an image of humility and a teacher of abstinence / your humility exalted you /your poverty enriched you /Hierarch Father Nicholas / entreat Christ our God /that our souls may be saved.”
What beauty.
When I read about these saints, I feel like I am reading about a people made of stardust, burning bright in the darkness of the galaxy, millions of miles away from me, a person made of mud, stuck to the mucky grass and mushrooms in the underbelly of my air conditioner, caught in coolant and drowning in December rain.
The brutal darkness of this season seems almost tangible…some days I struggle to get out of bed and face the day…I am in awe of these saints who face tortures and evils head on.
“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us…” (Heb. 12:1).
Some days, it is hard for me to even throw off my comforter and sheets, to pull my head off the pillow. In the daily battle with the shadows and bogeymen in my mind, I hope that writing words and praying prayers mean something. That getting out of bed means something.
What a great company of saints, glorious and humbling.
St. Nicholas, pray for us. St. Barbara, pray for us. Lord, have mercy.
“Who will give me wings like a dove? And I will fly away and be at rest…” –Psalm 54:7 (or 55:6)
When I think of saints that were able to endure tremendous physical pain, I marvel at what rest must have been in their souls. The picture of their souls–because of their commitment to God–is serene as a warm rainy day in mid-spring and strong as the first warmth of the sun after a long winter. And isn’t this what God’s presence does for us? It is the sun after eighty-some years of winter wrestlings with life.
And with such inner peace as they must have had, remember that this is the peace we aim to find–the persecution and martyrdom is just a side plot. When one catches a glimpse of Christ, how can they ever see anything else past all His goodness and beauty? There is no suffering that is as bad as good is His glory.
Sarah, thanks for the encouragement. Greatly appreciated.
It is so hard to fathom, isn’t it? That degree of faith and commitment. What a beautiful post you’ve written, and what a beautiful example these saints have set for us. Thank you for sharing your reflections. They are truly inspiring!