Josephine Butler the Champion of Victims

The following was written by Joshua for Telling the Stories that Matter.

Josephine’s life was indubitably envied by many of her contemporaries and acquaintances. She had had the blessing of a happy childhood with good parents and now was married to an academic and cleric and his income provided more than sufficiently for their needs and many of their desires. They even had four children–three sons and a daughter.Josephine and her husband were active in social causes and vicious opponents of slavery anywhere in the world. In fact, they were known sympathizers with the Union cause of the Civil War in the States. Their activism was a tame sort that would be expected from a socially progressive cleric and his wife and they lived into these roles and expectations with ease. Yet, as life often does, things took a turn and their happy way of life was suddenly and painfully upset: their six-year-old daughter Evangeline died without warning and left the family reeling.

Josephine was overwhelmed with grief and was absolutely inconsolable. She resisted the efforts of her friends and acquaintances to comfort her and instead looked for distraction. In her pain, she was immediately desperate for somebody more desperate than herself. She found an object of focus and compassion in the prostitutes of London who she viewed as victims of the cultural machine–as the ones who were ground up in the gears of a machine designed to help and protect some by sacrificing others. She hated prostitution and saw it as a dehumanizing sin against God and themselves but her growing passion and love for the women enslaved by desperate need overcame her aversion to the acts. Soon, she found herself loving the women more and more and helping them less and less out of a desire to be distracted and more out of an honest and consuming love.
The Contagious Diseases Act that had been passed in the 1860s–which Josephine referred to in a gripping way as “surgical rape“–meant that a police officer could accuse any woman of prostitution and turn them over to a group of government backed medical workers who would perform an intrusive examination upon the woman and confine her for a period of three months to “quarantine” her. This became a way of intimidating and abusing women on the streets of London and a simple accusation by a police officer–no matter their honesty or integrity–annihilated the reputation of the woman and left heruntouchable withing polite British society. So, Josephine fought for the repeal of these laws because of the abuse it assisted and the victimization it spread among women who were already victims. Josephine could not understand how a society could be so ostensibly Christian yet simply reject women who were in critical need of help. Josephine had learned to love these women and had become their benefactor–a voice to the voiceless. She was slandered and physically assaulted by Christians and non-Christians alike but her faith bade her remain the friend of the victim and the oppressed. She rejected any morality that appeared built upon a double standard of sexual justice and–finally–in 1886, the laws were repealed in large part due to Josephine’s work.
Later in her life, she fought again to have the age of consent raised from thirteen to sixteen to help fight yet more abuse and double standards inherent to the system. This was the life she had been cast into first by her desperate grief and second by a genuine calling from the God she loved and followed. Until the day she died, she remained a powerful activist and feminist who insisted upon the equal rights of women in a system that thrived by victimizing the already victimized.

Holy Innocents’ Day

The following was written by Joshua for Telling the Stories that Matter.

It had been some time since Jesus had been born but when the magi had seen the star in the distance–a star that they and their fellow astrologers knew nothing about–they set out quickly to find what it was a portent of. Surely, a new star must lead them to something special. As they arrived closer and closer to the place where they would find young Jesus, they began to realize that there was a connection between this star and a rumored new “King of the Jews.” When they questioned other travelers, they asked if they had met the new King but none seemed to know of any new royalty and suggested that the magi keep this kind of talk to themselves–Herod would be none too pleased to find out that there might be another vying for his power. Herod was jealous of the throne–jealous enough to kill his own children to protect himself from their possible conspiratorial machinations. Herod had a good thing going and no amount of blood was too much to keep his pseudo-dominance of his little corner of the world. Yet, somehow, the magi ended up in the palace of Herod and asked him if he knew where the new King could be found. He didn’t know but he desperately wanted to and lied to them: “I don’t know where but if you find him, please come and tell me where I too might find him–I want to pay my respects to the new ruler.”

Herod had gained and held his power by being willing to play the game and sell himself to Rome bit by bit. Herod’s father–Antipater–had been poisoned for offering financial support to the treasonous men who murdered Caesar. It is hard to imagine that the son of a collaborator could rise to power but somehow Herod knew the game well enough to manipulate the right people. He swore his allegiance to Rome while using the Roman army to kill his father’s supposed murderer. He would soon rise to power in Judea and be named tetrarch but he first had to consolidate his power by marrying his niece to cement his claim on the throne. This was an easy task for a powerful man like Herod but required that he banish and exile his current wife and three-year-old son. No cost was too high for Herod in his search for power. A little while later, after convincing the Roman leaders that his father’s treachery had been forced, he was threatened by another usurper who he cast as a traitor and enemy of Rome to his powerful Roman friends. With the backing of his Roman friends–bought with his pledge of allegiance to Rome first and foremost–Herod was further cemented as Governor of Judea and he took the title: king Herod the Great. All it cost was his integrity, his allegiance, and selling the Jewish leadership into Roman control.

Herod had lost so much to gain what he wanted that he wasn’t afraid to spill a littlemore blood for power. When the magi gave him the slip, he ordered soldiers and guards at his disposal to go to Bethlehem and murder all boys under the age of two. They were to die so that Herod could insure that no other would grow up to place a claim upon his throne–he didn’t havemuch left to give Rome to insure they would continue to help him and, in fact, they expected him to keep the peace of it would cost him his life. So, the soldiers descended upon the little village and murdered infants and children because of a desperate man’s fear. All in all, somewhere between 20 and 30 human lives were cut short by the obsessive arm of the Empire that hoped to maintain power by dealing in blood and death. Indeed, a prophecy from Jeremiah was fulfilled (perhaps for the second time): “A voice is heard in Ramah, weeping and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because they are no more.”

Yet, they missed Jesus. Shortly before the soldiers came, an angel had come to Joseph and instructed him to take Jesus and Mary and get out of Israel–they had to go somewhere Herod could not reach–and go to Egypt. They fled the bloody grasp of Herod and would not return until Herod the Great had died and some of the sons he didn’t murder had taken over. So as not to live under Herod’s son Archelaus, they settle in Nazareth in Galilee


In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered.This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. All went to their own towns to be registered. Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David calledBethlehem,because he was descended from the house and family of David. He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child.And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.

In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.’And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favours!’

When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, ‘Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us.’ So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger.When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them. But Marytreasured all these words and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.

After eight days had passed, it was time to circumcise the child; and he was called Jesus, the name given by the angel before he was conceived in the womb.

When the time came for their purification according to the law of Moses, they brought him up to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord (as it is written in the law of the Lord, ‘Every firstborn male shall be designated as holy to the Lord’), and they offered a sacrifice according to what is stated in the law of the Lord, ‘a pair of turtle-doves or two young pigeons.’

Now there was a man in Jerusalem whose name was Simeon; this man was righteous and devout, looking forward to the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit rested on him. It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Messiah. Guided by the Spirit, Simeon came into the temple; and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to do for him what was customary under the law, Simeontook him in his arms and praised God, saying,

‘Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace, according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel.’

And the child’s father and mother were amazed at what was being said about him. Then Simeonblessed them and said to his mother Mary, ‘This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed—and a sword will pierce your own soul too.’

There was also a prophet, Anna the daughter of Phanuel, of the tribe of Asher. She was of a great age, having lived with her husband for seven years after her marriage,then as a widow to the age of eighty-four. She never left the temple but worshiped there with fasting and prayer night and day. At that moment she came, and began to praise God and to speak about the child to all who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem.

When they had finished everything required by the law of the Lord, they returned to Galilee, to their own town of Nazareth. The child grew and became strong, filled with wisdom; and the favour of God was upon him.

Sarah Grimke the Feminist Abolitionist

The following was written by Joshua for Telling the Stories that Matter.

Sarah couldn’t believe that her father would agree to that. She may only have been five but she was convinced that her father’s actions were reprehensible. She gathered up a few of her things in secret and set out from the house to find a way out of her native South Carolina. Her father–a proud advocate of slavery–had ordered a slave to be beaten and Sarah had tagged along to see what he meant by that. She couldn’t imagine that her father would actually order some poor person to be abused yet she was surprised to see a slave tied to a post and whipped repeatedly. That’s what had convinced her she had to run away and find a place to live in a state where slavery was not the norm.Of course, five-year-olds–no matter how powerfully angry–cannot get far when they are surrounded by miles and miles of land and so she was caught on her flight and brought back to the plantation to pout silently in her room. This disgust with injustice would characterize the rest of her life.

Sarah was the sixth eldest child of fourteen and was clearly one of the more intelligent children her mother and father had. As she aged, her intellect was further demonstrated in her ability to teach herself and apply her growing wealth of academic resources to the problems at hand. She hoped to follow in the path of her father–a respected lawyer and judge–with one notable exception: she wanted to fight against slavery. As she grew, however, her father began to get nervous about his daughter’s intellect. When Sarah let it slip that she hoped to go to college (like her older brother) to become an attorney, she was forbidden from continuing to study so that she would be unable to attend college. It seems that in order to prevent her from achieving, they crippled her intellectually because she was a woman and her father felt it was inappropriate for a woman to take that kind of position. She resisted this obstacle but it proved to be fairly insurmountable for young Sarah. She did, however teach the slave assigned to her to read–in contradiction of the law–because she recognized the power of education even as she was denied its graces. This event only deepened her commitment to women’s rights and the suffrage of the disenfranchised.

Sarah was the godmother of her own sister–Angelina, the youngest–and helped tutor and care for her as she grew older. Sarah even came back for her many years later after she had already moved to Philadelphia and become active in the abolitionist community and church there. When Angelina was twenty-two (and Sarah was thirty-five), Sarah came back to Charleston to convert her sister to Christianity and bring her north. Angelina would convert but it would be two more years before she moved north to live with her sister. In Philadelphia, the sisters worked for the abolitionist and the feminist cause and Angelina eventually married. In Angelina’s home with her husband Theodore, there was a room for Sarahand the sisters worked together out of the home to edit newspapers and release articles and papers that denounced slavery and repression of women. Though they were rebuked by ministers and eventually given an ultimatum by the Quakers, they refused to accept that slavery was acceptable or women were to be subservient and second-class creatures. They stood upon the same foundation that their opponents stood upon: the Christian faith. By refusing to appeal to another foundation, they refused to concede the holy to those who would abuse it.

When Sarah was seventy-eight years old, the United States ratified the fifteenth amendment to the United State Constitution which stated: “The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of race, color, or previous condition of servitude.” In many ways, this was a victory for Sarah and in her advanced age, she could have sat back and congratulated herself for the rest of her life yet she was not finished. A little while later, she attempted to vote on the basis that the fifteenth amendment should expand voting to all people regardless of sex. She was rejected, however, as it would take the nineteenth amendment in 1920 before women could vote. Sarah spent the rest of her life rehashing old arguments with new circumstances and campaigning for a world she would never witness. She died on December 23 in the year 1873.

Sundar Singh the Converted Sadhu

The following was written by Joshua for Telling the Stories that Matter.

The crumpling of a body is a unique and easily remembered sound. As the Brahmin holy man’s legs gave way he fell into a heap at the crowded–and stifling–bus terminal. The people scattered and some went for help. A man rushed back with a glass of cold water for the holy man knowing that he was likely suffering from some type of heat exhaustion. The life giving water was offered to the man but he pushed it away ferociously because it was not in his personal drinking vessel. The crowd understood that the man was trying to maintain his distinctness and so a boy ran to the home of the man and found his vessel. When he arrived, they filled it with cold water and the holy man drank quickly from his vessel and was strengthened and revived. In these startling moments, Sundar became painfully aware of a lesson hidden behind the circumstances: the people of India were like the man who would accept water only in the way he was familiar with–they would only accept a story of faith in the guise of an Indian man and not with the appearance of Western thought or teaching. It made everything make more sense as to how effective his life had been and why God had called him to live such a peculiar life–perhaps even why God had called him from those train tracks so many years previous.

Sundar was raised by a Sikh woman who wanted him to receive both an excellent education and excellent spiritual mentoring. So, she took him to the local Sadhu–an ascetic Indian holy man–to be mentored in the faith of his people and took him to a western school so he might learn English and other subjects. This school was a Christian mission and so he began to learn some of the faith as he advanced in his studies. But, then, tragedy struck when he was fourteen and his mother died unexpectedly. This shock led him to reject the faith of the Christians who spoke of a loving God who cared for the people of the world. He openly rejected their faith and mocked their converts. He brought his friends together so that they could watch him burn a bible page by page in defiance of the faith he so eagerly resisted in his rage. His rage did not ease his suffering and so he found himself laying on railroad tracks and screaming at the heavens: “If there is a God, then show yourself! If you’re real, come to me or I will lay here and let the next train run over me and end it all.” Sundar waited for quite a while and nothing happened and so he resolved to die when the train came shortly after dawn. As dawn was breaking, he had a vision where God spoke to him and called him to serve as a missionary to his own people.

He ran home, he woke his father and shared the story of his own conversion. His father was outraged and demanded that he renounce the absurd moment and vision. When Sundar refused, his father schedule a great party–but this party was a farewell ceremony and after the meal, Sundar was expelled from his home and disowned by his widowed father. As he walked away from his only family, his stomach began to hurt and he realized that he had been poisoned by his own father. He struggled to keep going and was eventually crawling due to the pain. Yet, he was taken in by a local Christian family and nursed back to health. He was baptized in the community and became a servant of God in the leper community nearby.

Eventually, he took upon himself the Indian garb of the Sadhu and began an itinerant ministry of mission work to the Indian people. In his yellow robe and turban, he began speaking to people who would otherwise ignore and reject the faith he offered. He spoke of Jesus–the man whom God had become in this world–and one important Gospel message that God loves us and desires to be with us. In other words, Sundar brought water to the people of India in a vessel they recognized and preferred. He would travel to Tibet–to minister to the Buddhists there–andthroughout India on foot because of the calling to share the faith with his people.

He received some formal education but not much. He was occasionally sponsored by various ministries and ecclesial organizations but they never defined his identity. Instead, he kept pursuing the redemption of a people he cared for by offering the message that God’s love was furious and unrelenting and that there was hope for life in the words and stories of the Christian faith. In 1929, he endeavored to make one last journey to Tibet–the visits had started very painfully but had gotten better each time he visited–and so he set off through the mountains. He never arrived and his body was never found. It is possible that he was murdered by bandits or that he died of exhaustion but one thing is for certain: Sundar went places and talked to people that other Christians did not have access to. Sundar was called by God to reach those he loved even if they rejected and abandoned him.

Sebastian the Martyred Soldier

The following was written by Joshua for Telling the Stories that Matter.

Sebastian had been raised within the bounds of the Roman empire and knew well the laws and principles that were the foundation of Roman reason and expectation. Further, he had been appointed a captain of the Praetorian Guard under emperors Diocletian and Maximian. However, they had appointed him to this influential and powerful position without the rulers knowing what it was he did on Sundays. Sebastian was a Christian and professed his ultimate allegiance tothe same Lord that Rome had slaughtered to keep the pax romana in Judea. Had they known, they likely would have had him executed if he would not deny his faith. Yet, his faith remained secret even as the power of the Praetorians was weakened by Diocletian and Maximian. Because of this secrecy, Diocletian was unprepared for what came next.

It seems that two Christians had been arrested and tortured when they refused to deny their faith. Mark and Marcellian were close to abandoning their faith in exchange for an end to their pain and an opportunity to be with their family again when they heard whispering outside of their cell. Sebastian comforted them and shared his own faith with them. There in the Roman prison they prayed together and invoked the protection of their crucified Lord. Sebastian encouraged them to be courageous as death approached and they received the holy crown of martyrdom. The next day they surprised Diocletian who expected them to be sufficiently worn down. Diocletian had them tortured again yet their faith would not cave. He called for the family members of the men to visit them and plead with them to make a token sacrifice and renounce their faith. As they visited and pleaded with Mark and Marcellian, Sebastian arrived. At first, the families were worried to see a Praetorian captain near their loved ones yet were comforted by Mark and Marcellian’s joy to see him. Again he comforted Mark and Marcellian and offered prayer with them but he also shared his faith with their non-Christian family. In a few short hours, the families were confessing faith in Jesus and joining with the men in their prayer and worship.

Diocletian was surprised again but this time he thought he had an idea what had happened. Some important families had been having family members become Christians at surprising times andall of the conversions seemed to be connecting around one central figure’s visit: Sebastian. Diocletian called Sebastian to him and gave him no opportunity to regain his status. Instead, he had him taken to a nearby field and tied to a stake. The Roman archers raisedtheir brutal bows and rained death upon him.His flesh was pierced on account of his faith. He was left for dead as his blood was slowly consumed by the soil beneath his naked body. Yet, as the sun fell and the soldiers departed, Sebastian’s heart still beat and he was taken from the place by a Christian widow–Irene of Rome who had been married to Castulus. She took him to her home and nursed him back to health after cleaning his wounds and giving him her bed to sleep in. Amazingly, he recovered and worked a wonder in the house of Irene. A blind woman from the community was skeptical of his faith–perhaps because of his status as a Praetorian–and refused to accept that he was a Christian. He called her to himself and asked, “Do you desire to be with God?” She responded in the affirmative and he made the sign of the cross upon her forehead. Miraculously, she gained her sight the moment after his thumb left her brow.

Yet, one day Diocletian and his entourage were passing through the city and Sebastian saw him coming. He stood upon the step of the home and called out to Diocletian in a loud voice: “See now, Diocletian, the one you condemned to death stands before you. You hope to kill the disciples of Jesus Christ but you only honor those whom you murder and encourage those who escape your desperate grasp.”In a fit of rage, Diocletian ordered his soldiers to beat Sebastian to death and throw his body into a garbage heap after they were sure he was dead. Sebastian died a martyr and evangelist who espoused a faith that was contagious and compelling.

Lucia the Unpollluted

The following was written by Joshua for Telling the Stories that Matter.

The coins clattered to the stone and Lucia looked around as if she expected somebody to notice. In fact, many people noticed the sound of coins hitting the ground in this poor neighborhood but none of the people were her wealthy soon-to-be husband. She had no trouble giving away the money but knew it must be done in relative secrecy lest her betrothed find out that she was giving away her dowry. Her mother had not approved and had begged her to think of her father–her recently passed father–but could not convince her. At least, not since that night at Agatha’s tomb when she had been healed from her bloody problem. They had waited and prayed all night and Lucia’s mother had finally been healed but Lucia had been the recipient of a vision at the same moment that foretold her soon coming martyrdom. Mom had been happy to be healed and Lucia had not let her know what she had learned. Instead, she proposed that she be allowed to give away her dowry to the poor as an act of alms giving. Of course, mom had resisted but Lucia won out. As she handed over the last of the coins, she breathed a sigh of relief–partly because she had maintained the secrecy and partly because she was glad to finally be rid of the bride money–after all, she had committed herself to a celibate life and had no desire to be a bride in this world.

Yet, as thing so often happen, her betrothed was quick to find out. He was a wealthy man and so he had much influence. Great influence in a city buys many eyes in various places and some of them had told him that they thought they had seen her in the streets giving away a large sum of money. He confronted her and asked to see the dowry set aside for him to gain when he finally married her. She knew she had been caught and so she admitted that she had given it away–knowing well that her martyrdom was likely to spring from this moment of opportunity. “If you don’t replace it, I will betray your secret–that you are a Christian–to the magistrate. Maybe then you’ll see some sense once you’ve given up these silly Christian fables.” he yelled. She nodded because she knew he would and because she had come to accept it.

Lucia was arrested at her his insistence and dragged before magistrate Paschasius. This was during the time of the Diocletian persecutions and being Christian was akin to high treason. She was ordered to make a sacrifice upon the Roman altars and she refused. Paschasius was not surprised by any means–it seemed that the Christians were only all too willing to refuse and die if the other option was denying their Faith. “If you do not,” said Paschasius, “then you’ll be killed. Offer sacrifice and live.” Paschasius wasn’t surprised but he was confused–what could be so valuable as to forfeit your life–it didn’t make any sense to him (it never does to the Empire).

“Here is my offering,” Lucia began, “I offer myself to God, let God do with His offering as it pleases Him.” Paschasius sat in shocked silence for a moment. Lucia’s betrothed was dumbstruck by what he might call her lunacy but others might call her courage. Paschasius finally asked her why she would not like to keep her life and be married. He pointed out many of the desirable traits of her betrothed. Lucia let them know that she had committed herself to celibacy and was not interested in marriage.

At this, Paschasius saw an opportunity to wring a denial out of her. “Deny your faith,” he said slickly, “or I’ll turn you over to the brothel to be raped and become a prostitute.” He gloated to himself and smiled what can only be called a smile of self-satisfaction. In this, he had revealed the Empire’s great lust to control and dominate even if by evil means. He fully expected her to give in but this time he truly was surprised.

Lucia said: “No one’s body is polluted so as to endanger the soul if it has not pleased the mind. If you were to lift my hand to your idol and so make me offer against my will, I would still be guiltless in the sight of the true God, who judges according to the will and knows all things. If now, against my will, you cause me to be polluted, a twofold purity will be gloriously imputed to me. You cannot bend my will to your purpose; whatever you do to my body, that cannot happen to me.” Furious, Paschasius ordered her eyes gouged out and then to be martyred. The soldiers followed through and ended her life as a martyr.

Eulalia and Leocadia, Martyrs

The following was written by Joshua for Telling the Stories that Matter.

Eulalia and Leocadia may never have met each other on our own side of the dusky vale of death. Regardless, their lives had an impact upon one another. Leocadia had been gathered up from the streets of Toledo, Spain, by the Roman empire in yet another attempt to stifle and neutralize the Christian presence. The Diocletian persecutions were in full force and had drawn blood throughout the Empire but in the days of Eulalia and Leocadia, it was particularly bad in Roman Spain. Leocadia’s story was like so many other martyrs–she had been identified as a Christian and drawn before the powers of the Empire and given a chance to deny her faith to save her life.Leocadia’s faith was strong, however, and she refused to concede to the wishes of the Empire since they would require her to betray herself and her Lord. As was the practice of the Empire, Leocadia was beaten and tortured for her refusal. The Empire’s hope was that the pain it could inflict might win out over the faith of the Christian. The Empire always thinks in terms of self-preservation and avoidance of pain–this is one of the high values of the Empire–and not in terms of glory and the Kingdom of God. The greatest power of an Empire always has been–and always will be–the ability to deprive somebody of their life and when somebody no longer holds their life to be protected at all costs, the Empire loses their domination. So, Leocadia was returned to her cell in prison so that she might think over her refusal in hopes that time would combine with her wounds to render a denial.

While Leocadia languished in prison, Eulalia was at home. As a Spanish Christian, she had known many of the people gathered up in the Imperial raid. Though she was only thirteen, she also knew the inevitable fate of those who refused to deny their faith when placed under the unrelenting scrutiny of the Empire. Somehow, her name had escaped the list of Christians and she had been left alone while her brothers and sisters began to suffer on account of their common faith and Lord.Eulalia was distressed that she was not numbered with her brothers and sisters–Leocadia being one of them–and so she went to the tribunal and confessed her faith before the ears of an Empire that had not asked. For this crime of faith, she was arrested and tortured like her brothers and sisters. Supposing that she might be humiliated and induced into apostasy, they stripped her of all of her clothing and cast her out on the steps of the tribunal. Eulalia suffered the indignity of being laughed and leered at in the public square but refused to deny her faith because of the temporary and desperate machinations of the Empire.

Eulalia was brought in from her humiliation and taken to a public execution. Along with other Christians, this eager martyr was burned at the stake and her ashes were scattered. The story of Eulalia seeking out the powers and confessing her faith drifted through the prison cells and brought a new confidence and joy to those who were facing their own martyrdom. Leocadia heard the story and fell to her knees. She was still bleeding and hurting from her last experience with the Imperial death-dealers but she had a new determination.Praying to God, she cried out, “Lord, deliver me from a world that allows a woman like Eulalia to die at the hands of an Empire like the one that holds me even now. If Eulalia has died so eagerly, then so do I desire to die.”Having prayed this and aroused the attention of her guards, she died without being touched or harmed in any additional way.

Nicholas the Wonderworker

The following was written by Joshua for Telling the Stories that Matter.

Nicholas knew the likely consequences of the man’s poverty–his three daughters would have no dowry and would not be able to marry because of it. If they couldn’t marry, then they would likely follow the same path that so many other poor, unmarried women did at the time: prostitution. This thought chilled Nicholas’ heart and so he devised a plan. Taking a significant portion of the wealth he inherited from his parents, he converted it to gold and divided the gold equally among three sacks. As day gave way to dusk and the frenetic activity of the street faded into yet more noisy memories, Nicholas left his home and began walking toward the home of the man and his three daughters.

That first night, he must have felt nervous since he wasn’t planning to be noticed. He waited until a group of people were walking down the street by the home and joined in with their gentle throng. He had spied the window of the home and noticed that it was open that night and would allow him the safest and easiest way to leave the gold. If he left it on the doorstep, it would likely be stolen but he couldn’t knock and hand it to them without being noticed. Instead, he waited as his group passed the doorway and tossed the sack through the window. The sack landed with a pleasant thud and the jingling of coins. The father picked up the bag to see what type of garbage had been tossed through the window and discovered that it was filled with gold. Immediately, his thoughts went to his daughters and he rejoiced that he was a little closer to providing a dowry for his daughters. His thoughts turned to fear, though, as he considered that surely this was dropped by some wealthy man walking the street and so he opened the door to find the man who would be frantically searching for his money. There was nobody left on the street. So, the father waited up several eager hours silently hoping against hope that this had been a gift and not an accident. Every step in the street drew the father from the home to see if it was somebody looking for the money but nobody ever came to claim the gold.

The next night, Nicholas took another sack of gold and waited for another group of people to walk down the street. He joined with them again and was glad to see that the man had left the window open again. Feeling that his work for the Kingdom of God was not yet done, Nicholas approached the window with the group of people again. He thrilled to know that he was making a difference in the lives of the daughters and their father but he still did not want to be found out. He tossed the sack through the window where it landed again in the middle of the room. This time, however, when the sack landed the father didn’t hesitate and bolted for the door. He already knew whatwas in the sack but he wanted to know who had again delivered such a wonderful gift. He gave chase to the cloaked figureand caught up with him. He spun him around and asked who he was that he should leave such a wonderful gift but the man only shook his head and said, “It wasn’t me. Some man gave me this coin and his cloak to run when you came out of your door.” With a subtle deception, Nicholas crept away into the night and again eluded the father.

The third and final night, the father had prepared and hid by the window. When the sack entered the open window, he would leap up and catch the man. Then, he would be able to thank and praise the man who had done such good for him. He waited as Nicholas approached but Nicholas had already detected the father’s plan. He climbed to the top of the house and took the third sack with him. There was no smoke coming from the chimney and so Nicholas knew his plan would work. He dropped the third sack down the chimney where it landed with a triumphant thud. Before departing, the father yelled, “Who are you that I might thank you for these great gifts?”

Before he disappeared, Nicholas responded, “You have nobody to thank but God alone.”The father did not try to follow after Nicholas for it was abundantly clear that he didn’t want to be found out. He took the money and used it to provide a sizable dowry for each of his daughters and to ease the poverty that had gripped his small family. For this wonder–and others–Nicholas is well remembered and memorialized. May we, too, be generous gift givers.

Finding Your Own Calcutta

The following is a story and reflection from one of Grace and Main Fellowship’s leaders, Matt Bailey, who is active in a variety of ministries in downtown Danville, including being a founder of our “Roving Feast,” which he mentions in his reflection. Names have been change to protect our brothers and sisters downtown.

During the spring of 2009, leaders of Grace and Main were feeling a call to spend more time with the individuals Jesus identified with, those who are neglected by respectable society. That is to say, with the poor, the homeless, prostitutes, and drug addicts. So, we went where they were. We began simply to walk the streets and alleys of downtown Danville—streets that are lined with abandoned buildings and derelict houses; littered with trash and overgrown with weeds. Streets abandoned by many and desperate for grace and mercy. We heard stories of abuse and addiction, of job loss and poverty, of homelessness and hopelessness, of hunger and pain. We were privileged to join the storyteller in their story for just a little while. We learned to listen.

On one occasion, I happened to be walking around downtown alone, carrying sandwiches and snacks for our homeless, near-homeless, and poor brothers and sisters. I turned down Jefferson Avenue to where I thought my friend Andy lived. I came upon a large stucco apartment building whose faded paint and neglected courtyard were more than a little ominous. I was planning on going up to Andy’s apartment, but I couldn’t remember which one was his, so I decided to ask one of the group of guys hanging around the courtyard. As I walked up, the men stared at me suspiciously. I felt uneasy, but it was a feeling that I had become accustomed to ignoring. But, this time the feeling was stronger, and so at the last minute I turned and continued down the street—in the opposite direction I needed to go to get back to my car.

I was pretty new to the downtown area and so I didn’t know many of the back streets yet. I was stuck; I had to walk back by the building no matter how much I wanted to avoid it. As I approached the stucco building for the second time, the same tense uneasiness came over me again. Only this time, the fellows standing in the courtyard started walking en masse toward me. I kept my head down, stared at the pavement, and prayed for protection. They came out to the sidewalk in front of the courtyard and lined up shoulder to shoulder, glaring at me. I didn’t dare look in their direction. Heart pounding and scared silly, I continued on to Main Street and made it safely to my car. I didn’t know whether the men standing in front of the stucco building meant me harm or were just hanging out, but nevertheless, I vowed never to return to that building or street again.

However, God had other plans. During one of our walks downtown, Steve and I began talking about Mother Teresa. We were reflecting on her words: “There are Calcuttas everywhere. You just have to have eyes to see.” Steve pondered aloud, “I wonder where a Calcutta in Danville would be?” As soon as the words came out of his mouth, we looked at each other knowingly. And knowing that we were both thinking of Jefferson Avenue and the stucco apartment building, I said, “No!” But there was a soft, loving peace I felt as we walked on in silence. Months went by, and we continued sharing lunch with our friends downtown. I continued to be careful to avoid Jefferson Avenue. We made friends with people we met at the library, on Main Street, and in the park on Green Street. They began coming to Grace and Main’s Thursday night community meals, and we began spending more time with them, sharing lunch, going to the library, taking walks downtown, and simply getting to know one another better.

Then one day, our friend Tyler invited us over to hang out. When asked where he lived, he replied, “Do you know the stucco building

on Jefferson?” My heart began racing. “Yep, I know the place,” I answered, remembering my first encounter on that street, at that building. Steve and I glanced at each other. “Let’s go then,” Tyler said joyfully. We walked and talked with Tyler about how long he had lived there (several years) and who else lived there. He began mentioning names of many of our friends we had met downtown: Tutu, Darius, Jones, and David. I couldn’t believe it! God had been forming a connection between Grace and Main and our brothers and sisters at the stucco building without our knowledge. Even as I planted my feet and said “no,” God was planning for my eventual “yes.”

We continued on, and when we arrived at the stucco building, I was nervous but still very much in awe of the Lord’s fingerprints all over this “coincidental” connection. My fears were immediately dispelled by the welcoming smiles and cheerful greetings we received from the friends we knew and the ones we had yet to meet. Once again, I felt the soft, loving peace I had felt the day Steve and I remembered the wisdom and words of Mother Teresa.

The word “Calcutta” may bring images of filth, despair, poverty, and hopelessness to mind. But I think what Mother Teresa found in Calcutta was that appearances are deceiving. Calcuttas aren’t places of hopelessness; they are places that are hope-filled and love-filled and beauty-filled. But they are neglected and under-nurtured. They are the abandoned places of our world. And that is exactly what we found on Jefferson Avenue—a community of beautiful people who are hope-filled and love-filled. People who continue to show us daily that Jesus is there with them, He has been all along, and He will be always.

And so we continue to spend time together, reminding each other of Jesus’ love and presence within each of us by sharing lunch, planting flowers, and sharing stories. And Jesus continues to remove the scales from my eyes to see, not the Calcutta the world sees, but what He sees—a place of hope, beauty, and love in the stucco building, a beautiful little Calcutta in downtown Danville, Va.