25 The Joy of the Marty world,” he says, speaking the common language of the east, “hina martyreso tei aletheiai,” that he might be a witness, a martyr, to the truth. Without truth to witness to, there is no martyrdom. Without God to give us the grace and the courage, there is no martyrdom, because on our own we have no strength to hold out against the lie. “What is truth?” asked Pontius Pilate, washing his mind before he washed his hands. We are martyrs to the Resurrection It is a few weeks later, at Solomon’s portico. Many thousands of Jews fromall over the world have come to Jerusalem to celebrate the feast of Pentecost, the fiftieth day after Passover—the great jubilee day. It is a feast of gratitude and rejoicing. But a sudden wind has swept the city, and people are shouting and crying out in their many tongues—What has happened? What is going on? A man of broad shoulders, in the ordinary clothing of a workman, stands forth on a balcony above. He is speaking. There was a night when he did not speak. His master had been arrested and put on trial for his life. On that night this man, Simon, christened “Rock” by the master in one of his moments of sublime command or irony or both, had refused to witness to the truth. “I tell you,” he snapped at the serving woman, trying to muffle his Galilean accent, “I don’t know
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