Trophies and Martyrs

I am well acquainted with modern Christian martyrs. It seems that almost every day new stories emerge from across the globe and into my inbox of Christians dying for their faith in Christ.

“Martyr” is from the Greek μάρτυς (martus) meaning “witness.” A martyr is a witness, a witness to the worthiness of Christ (that one is willing to die for Him), and a witness to how the Lord’s transforming love empowers a Christian to stand firm in the face of death.

Last Thursday, October 1, the killing of eight students and their professor at Umpqua Community College in Roseburg, Oregon added some names to the small but growing roll of American Christian martyrs, regardless of what some detractors who have been scrounging for evidence that this is not true now say. At the risk of being accused of having a “Christian persecution complex” I am going to reflect upon the martyrdom of one victim, Jason Johnson.

Eyewitnesses reported that the killer targeted Christians for death. Anastasia Boylan, 18, who was herself wounded, told her father how the killer asked the people in the classroom, one by one, “Are you a Christian? ” The killer then told them to stand up. Boylan’s father, Stacy, told CNN, “And they would stand up and he said, ‘Good, because you’re a Christian, you’re going to see God in just about one second.’” Then he shot them.

Another witness had a similar report, and still another confirmed that the shooter was lining people up and asking if they were Christian. If they said yes, then they were shot in the head. If they said no, or didn’t answer, they were shot in the legs.

Actor James Woods posted a quote on his Twitter account last week that stated, “The bravest person in America? The 2nd to admit to being a Christian after the UCC shooter murdered the 1st.” Woods exclaimed, “My God, what extraordinary people these young Christians were. The courage of their conviction is unimaginable.” Also extraordinarily brave, of course, was heroic Army veteran Chris Mintz who charged the killer and was shot seven times.

We don’t yet, and maybe never will on this side of Eternity, know the full story of each of those UCC victims who said they were Christians. But because of the details given about Jason Johnson, I know more about him than I would otherwise know. I know that in addition to now being a martyr, Jason was a trophy. I don’t mean a “trophy” for the sick, evil killer. A trophy of God’s redeeming grace.

“Trophy of Grace” is a title reflecting the awe and wonder of Christ’s redemption of someone in the most desperate of circumstances. In the early days of The Salvation Army, some of the most devastated lost souls in the 19th century East End of London — drunkards, prostitutes, criminals — became known as trophies of God’s grace, dazzling displays of the power of Jesus’ love to redeem lives thought hopelessly lost. Others were drawn to Christ by seeing their transformation.

News accounts say that Jason had struggled with drug addiction in the past (meth, according to some reports). But recently he had completed a six month residential treatment program at The Salvation Army Adult Rehabilitation Center (ARC) in Portland, Oregon and was finally on the right path.

Friends and family who called Jason helpful, kind, and funny spoke about how excited he was to be starting over. And a heartbreaking interview with his mother, Tonia Johnson Engel, demonstrates how proud both mother and son were of his stepping out, enrolling in college.

The photo of Jason Johnson in many of the news reports makes me feel as if I know him. It was taken at a graduation ceremony at the Portland ARC chapel. Jason, smiling shyly, in cap and gown, holding a GED certificate, is standing in front of a Salvation Army “platform” (stage) instantly recognizable to anyone who has ever been in to a Salvation Army church service.  In back of Jason there is a Cross on the wall, and American and Salvation Army flags.

I have been to dozens of such graduations, since I grew up in The Salvation Army and my family members have been counselors and chaplains, and otherwise associated with the ARCs. I have seen young and old men alike proudly march up the center aisle, with “Pomp and Circumstance” playing, to receive their GED’s and/or diplomas awarded to those who successfully complete the treatment program. Proud family and friends cheer them on and usually throw in a few wisecracks to lighten the emotion. Everyone is bursting with happiness at the new possibilities that awaits these graduates.

But that photo wasn’t the end — or even the beginning — of Jason’s story. At the press conference the day after the killings, his family released a statement that said, “Jason Johnson, age 34, was proud to be a Christian.” That first sentence defined who Jason Johnson was, identifying him to the world as a Christian, just as he must have identified himself to his killer on Thursday.

Because if Jason was like many other former users, it wasn’t achieving the GED or even completing the substance abuse program that turned his life around. It was Jesus Christ.

I repeat, I didn’t know Jason Johnson. But I have heard young men and old men in The Salvation Army ARCs testify that Jesus saved them. They finally admitted to themselves and to God that they were powerless to change their lives. And they surrendered to the One who could change them. I thought of all of them when I heard about Jason.

I have seen men with beaming young cherubic faces that belie the path to destruction on which they once were headed, and men with weathered faces that display every pain-filled and lost year, standing side by side in the choir (something they probably never dreamed they would do in a million years!). I have heard them sing at the top of their lungs, “There’s a new name written down in Glory, and it’s mine, oh yes it’s mine. The white-robed angels tell the story: A sinner has come home.”

I don’t know if Jason was in the choir when he was in the ARC program, but I know that his name was written down in Glory. Before he joined the ranks of Christ’s martyred followers, he was one of Christ’s trophies. He was courageous enough to see himself for who he was and where he was headed, and surrender his life to Jesus. He was continuing to do the work needed in recovery to keep moving forward.

Although I don’t even know Jason, I have been tempted to demand of God, “Why? Why let him be freed from his past of addiction and then murdered? What possible reason could there be?” And I think that has probably run through the minds of some of his friends who cheered him on when that photo was taken.

But what I do know is that some day, in Eternity, all will be clear. And I know that even right now in the midst of the pain of this horrible loss, Jason’s martyrdom shows how real Jesus is — real enough to die for, and real enough for them to know He will help them to stay sober. Christ prizes and loves the trophies of His grace for whom He went to the Cross.

I also know this. The killer got one thing right when he said that they were ‘going to see God in just about one second.” When he shot and murdered Jason and the others, they no longer saw that killer’s hate-filled face. They saw Jesus.

(I have chosen to not refer to the killer of the Umpqua Community College victims by name.)