While browsing an 1881 edition of The Boys’ Newspaper (I happen to own two years’ worth of these Victorian “penny press” publications), I came across page after page describing the gruesome instruments of torture once displayed in the Tower of London. What struck me wasn’t simply the cruelty they represented, but how matter-of-factly they were described. People visited almost with fascination.

It made me wonder what future generations of Christians will think of us. Every age has its blind spots. History teaches us that practices once considered normal can later be recognised as deeply inhuman.

The Gospel constantly invites us to examine ourselves. Jesus doesn’t ask whether we are
simply following the customs of our own time. He asks whether we are loving our neighbour, forgiving those who wrong us, welcoming the stranger and protecting the vulnerable.

Before Jesus was crucified, the Cross was simply another brutal instrument of execution. Yet through Christ’s death and resurrection it became the greatest symbol of hope the world has ever known. Christianity does not glorify suffering; it proclaims that love is stronger than hatred, mercy stronger than cruelty, and life stronger than death.

Sadly, torture has not disappeared. It has simply changed its appearance. Today it may involve sensory deprivation, starvation, sleep deprivation, electrocution or psychological abuse (but no, maths exams are not officially torture.) Alongside this, millions of Christians continue to suffer because of their faith. For some it means discrimination and exclusion; for others, imprisonment, violence or even death.

This Sunday we celebrate Saints Peter and Paul. Tradition tells us that Peter was crucified
upside down, believing himself unworthy to die in the same manner as Christ. Paul, as a Roman citizen, was beheaded. On Friday, we celebrate St Thomas, who is believed to have been martyred by spears while preaching the Gospel in India. Each reminds us that following Christ has often demanded extraordinary courage.

My old high school’s motto was Per Crucem Ad Lucem – “Through the Cross to the Light.” It has stayed with me ever since. Jesus did not remove suffering from the world, but he transformed its meaning. The Cross no longer has the final word. Love does.
Most of us will never be asked to die for our faith. But every one of us is asked to live it. This week, perhaps our challenge is a simple one: pray for Christians who face persecution today, and then carry our own cross with patience, kindness and hope. Sometimes the smallest acts of faithfulness become the brightest signs of Christ’s light.

Deacon Eddie White