When we cast an eye along the long course of human history, the great empires stand out, and for a time at least, demand our attention. Not a few of these empires had their origin in the Mediterranean, the Middle and near East. Conspicuous amongst these, of course, was the Roman Empire both in its Western and Eastern centres, Rome and Constantinople.

For the 270 years or so before Emperor Constantine legalised the Christian faith, the Church was persecuted in cycles of varying degrees of severity by an establishment wedded to the old Roman and Greek gods. This persecution was not unrelenting and constant but on occasion an Emperor would rise to power who would not turn a blind eye, as some did, to the Christian sect, but rather determine to exterminate it by all means possible. Some of the more vicious persecutions took place immediately before Constantine’s accession to the throne. It was as if the enemies of Christ sensed their oncoming demise and made one final attempt to claim lost ground and roll back the Nazarene scum for good.

The devil however was and is blind. He could not see his opponent clearly, the one who had indeed destroyed both him and his realm in the resurrection of Christ. He could not know, for such was his hubris, that this was the One against whom all the hordes of hell could not prevail. In these closing battles, the greatest and most successful Christian fighters were not the ones who wielded swords but those who only had their own lives to give for a Kingdom not of this world. This, indeed, is why all human empires are perishable whether they last for a hundred years or a thousand or more. The seeds of decay are written into the DNA of all these grand human enterprises. We look at their monuments, many of which still survive, and wistfully contemplate past glories, but we know deep down that there is nothing that endures here but dust. The martyrs on the other hand know that their blood, mixed with that of Christ, is an imperishable thing, a life-giving and healing myrrh to the righteous but a caustic poison to those whose impotent rage cannot destroy them.

By the time that the Great Martyr Demetrius, whom we commemorate today, rose to pre-eminence within the Roman army, one of the great persecutors, a certain Galerius Maximian, Caesar of the East, cast his evil eyes towards the detested Christians.  Here was a man whose boiling anger against the Christian atheists, who denied his own gods, sought a high-value target, in this case his great general, Demetrius.

Christians such as Demetrius had risen through the ranks of the Roman army simply because they were dedicated, skilled and loyal. Yet, dammit, they had a mind of their own. They would not burn incense to the Emperor as God. They spoke openly against abortion, infanticide and the oppression of slaves; all of which practices seemed quite normal to many if not most Roman citizens. Their God could not simply be incorporated into the great Roman pantheon, that trophy shelf of many deities that adorned the Roman Imperium. They were now poised, by occupying positions of great honour and influence, to topple the very establishment that had been persecuting them for so long. Perhaps one last long vicious attack would, if not see them off, force them underground into the sewers of the Roman underclass for generations to come.

Maximian, though, had not reckoned on the likes of Demetrius and his companion Nestor who feared only God and not man. They could not be bought, cajoled, bribed or threatened. So, he simply had them put to death, thinking perhaps that he had prevailed.  However, cut down by the sword, in death they made the Church yet stronger.  The logic of persecution, being blind, is certainly inexorable but it is also doomed to fail. Perhaps this is why the deaths of Saint Demetrius and Nestor, have such power and significance still to this very day in the Church. Their martyrdoms are in some senses unremarkable in that many before them had died in similar ways and for the same cause. At this particular point in the fourth century, however, their voluntary sacrifices wielded the final death blows against the might of pagan Rome. From henceforth, the Eternal City would know a new Master … and his name was not Caesar!

In the year 2014, some 1700 years later, we have perhaps come full circle.  We sense that the enemies of Christ are once more encircling, preparing to attack from both within and without, even from those societies that we once called Christian. We should not be so surprised by this turn of events. We stand at a point in history when all human cultures and societies know of Christ, even if they are careless of His claims or indeed openly reject Him. Maybe we are indeed facing the End Times when Antichrist shall deceive many. It is not for us to know the time of Christ’s second coming but we must live as if this could happen tomorrow and not be like those foolish virgins who were ill-prepared for the coming of the bridegroom in the middle of the night.

Great martyr Demetrius, that good soldier in the fight against invisible enemies, warns us in the words of St Paul that we should be vigilant, man up and don the armour of God. If his blood prevailed in Christ so shall ours. The crucifixion of the Christian Church has started again in the Middle East but I suspect that its ripples, and later waves, will not leave these shores untouched. We should, therefore, get close to Great Martyr Demetrius, to Nestor and all those who have shed their blood for Christ. We too, with them, must in the words of Tertullian become the “seed of the Church.” 

The time for a quiet Christian life, if ever there was one, which I strongly doubt, is now over for good. In the words of our Lord in Gethsemane before his arrest: “Rise, let us be going. See, My betrayer is at hand.”  (Matthew 26:46).  Now above all times is the time to live in the power of Christ’s resurrection, fearing neither death nor humiliation but confident always in the power of God to vanquish His enemies by the power of his Holy Cross. To this all the martyrs attest. For this, one day, we may die … if it is our calling and grace.