What is a martyr? I always thought of it as something I would rather avoid, but if it happened to happen to me, it would look good on my eternal resume. In this age though of Islamic fanatics murdering innocents in the name of martyrdom, I thought it expedient to draw some specific distinctions.

A Christian martyr, for example, dies so someone else can either live or know the truth about life. t’s the celebration of life by being willing to die for life, usually someone else’s, that is its beauty. It’s giving yourself away so others live.

In other words, a martyr's main goal is NOT to take others with him. Rarely do we hear stories of a hero being exalted not only in how he gave his life for his comrades but also how many women and children he took with him?

As a matter of fact, part of what makes a martyr special is that most of the time he didn’t get to choose to be one, instead it’s thrust upon him. It’s kind of like hitting the lottery, except that all you get as remuneration is to pay the taxes on it. You don’t get the money or the new boat or the envy of everyone in America. Instead you find yourself in the unenviable situation of being surrounded by people who hate your faith, demand you recant it or you will be killed. Fun huh?

You don’t recant of course and bingo, you get the privilege of being a chosen one on that time-honored list of martyrs. That’s why these fringe Muslims who kill themselves while trying to take others with them have truly missed the point of martyrdom. You can’t kill yourself and claim to be martyred any more than I can take a camping trip in the woods and claim to be homeless.

Martyrdom means it happens to you by someone else.

Stephen was the first Christian martyr we know of. He set the standard and raised the bar high. Stephen is a hard act to follow. While being pelted with rocks he looked to heaven and imitating our Lord said to the Father,” Forgive them, they know not what they do.”

My prayer would have been different, I believe. “Lord are you going do something here or should I?” followed by “Father as you disembowel them would it be possible for me to watch and maybe even get in a few blows myself?”

You see I am selfish and my body wants nothing more than that old Epicurean idea of being comfortable at all times. That is precisely at odds with the true martyr. The body has no say in this. The soul speaks volumes though. My flesh failed in the garden and craves to retain its immortality. We don’t desire to survive because of some evolutionary internal system driven by instinct. Our body wants its familiar place in fellowship with the father restored.

It can’t have it by its own achievement of course. Judgment has already been meted out. Only the sacrifice of the ultimate martyr restored our soul to fellowship. Christ died for others only and the only victims he took with him were death and hell. That is what a servant warrior looks like. That is the unprecedented honor of martyrdom.

I still would rather die in my sleep.