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Discovering the Power of Words Worth Dying For

2018 August 22
by Diocesan Staff

I knew that painting would insinuate its way into my life. The colors were too garish, the captions too graphic for it not to do so. I sat under that painting time and again as I studied during three years of seminary, it was bound to work its way under my skin.

The painting was a fairly crudely done piece of artwork on the Martyrs of Uganda. You didn’t have to study the canvas to determine the subject matter; it was printed out in large letters across the top, “Uganda Martyrs 1885-1887” flanked by an image of the outline of Uganda and a cross. Beneath that headline, there is a central painting of a group 19 people being burned alive for their faith. Surrounding that group of martyrs are two other panels of slightly smaller size and then eight smaller scenes each showing martyrs being killed in various ways, with descriptions too graphic for a family newspaper. The painting is impossible to ignore and hard to forget.

My first year in seminary, I took Hebrew. I joined a study group and we grabbed a table in the back of the student lounge for the hour before class. We used the time to quiz one another on vocabulary and grammar. The painting was right over us as we worked.

I could never nail down the origin story for the artwork, but I found out that a student from Africa, probably Uganda, had painted it while studying at the seminary. Learning about the Ugandan Christians was straightforward. I discovered that a handful of Roman Catholic and Anglican missionaries went to Uganda sometime shortly after 1877. These missionaries preached the good news of Jesus to the court of King Mutesa, who was curious about the faith.

Mutesa’s successor King Mwanga was suspicious of this strange teaching. Mwanga discovered an Anglican Bishop whose missionary work had penetrated to the Ugandan shores of Lake Victoria. Mwanga had Bishop Hannington’s group tortured for a week and then put to death on October 29, 1885. The Bishop’s last words were, “Go, tell Mwanga I have purchased the road to Uganda with my blood.”

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In my second year of seminary, I studied Greek under the painting. Sometime during that third and final year of seminary, the meaning of it all sank in. Deep within my bones I became aware of why I needed that painting watching over me as I deciphered ancient texts. These were not just any words I struggled to learn to translate. These were the ancient words of our Old and New Testaments. I was not giving myself a headache to understand some dusty old academic text. I was working to gain a deeper understanding of the living, life-breathing word of God.

In case I was ever tempted to think of my work as solely academic, with no on-going message of life and hope for the world, the Martyrs of Uganda were there to watch over me. My African brothers and sisters in the faith kept me focused on the cost that had been paid to share these words with the world.

I continue to study the very life-giving word that caused a group of pages for a Ugandan king to go to their deaths joyfully singing songs of praise to God. I remain humbled and challenged by their witness.

Peace,
The Rev. Frank Logue, Canon to the Ordinary

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