Apostasy, Penalty of
A blacksmith who denied faith to avoid death perished tragically soon after.
Richard Denton, an English blacksmith who apostatized to avoid martyrdom, perished, shortly after, in the flames of his own dwelling.
Apostasy in Christian preaching warns against the abandonment or renunciation of faith, highlighting its spiritual peril and tragic consequences (Hebrews 10:26-27). Illustrations often depict the despair, judgment, or repentance of those who fall away, using vivid images of denial, death, and lost hope to emphasize the seriousness of turning from Christ (2 Timothy 4:10).
Apostasy, Repeating of
Archbishop Cranmer repented apostasy by publicly renouncing his earlier denial.
Archbishop Cranmer, under the pressure of the queen and court, was induced to subscribe to the errors of Rome. Of this he soon repented, and took his former decided position, which brought upon him the wrath of Bloody Mary. When the flames of martyrdom were kindled around him, he thrust the hand that subscribed to his shame into the flames, and held it until consumed, often exclaiming, "That unworth hand!"
Apostate, Fate of Julian, the
A vision foretold Julian’s death by a resurrected Christian warrior’s hand.
Julian the Apostate figures in sacred romances not merely as a tyrant and persecutor, but as a terrible and potent necromancer, who had sold himself to the Devil, had put his officer Mercurius to death, because of his adhesion to the Christian faith. The story then relates, that, when Julian led his army against the Persians, and on the eve of the battle in which he perished, St. Basil the Great was favored by a miraculous vision. He beheld a woman of resplendent beauty seated on a throne, and around her a great multitude of angels; and she commanded one of them, saying, "Go, forthwith, and awaken Mercurius, who sleepeth in the sepulchre, that he may slay Julian the Apostate, that proud blasphemer against me and against my Son!" And when Basil awoke, he went to the tomb in which Mercurius had been laid not long before, with his armor and weapons by his side; and, to his great astonishment, he found neither the body nor the weapons. But on returning to the place the next day, and again looking into the tomb, he found there the body of Mercurius lying as before; but the lance was stained with blood; "for, on the day of battle, when the wicked emperor was at the head of his army, an unknown warrior, bare-headed, and of a pale and ghastly countenance, was seen mounted on a white charger, which he spurred forward; and, brandishing his lance, he pierced Julian through the body, and then vanished as suddenly as he had appeared. And Julian being carried to his tent, he took a handful of the blood which flowed from his wound, and flung it into the air, exclaiming with his last breath, 'Thou hast conquered, Galilean! thou hast conquered!' Thou the demons received his parting spirit. But Mercurius, having performed the behest of the blessed Virgin, re-entered his tomb, and laid himself down to sleep till the day of judgment." Mrs. Jameson.
Rev
An apostate's despair shows the danger of denying Christ and losing hope in God's mercy.
FRANCIS SPIRA, an Italian apostate, exclaimed just before death, "My sin is greater than the mercy of God. I have denied Christ voluntarily; I feel that he hardens me, and allows me no hope."
Apostacy And Intemperance
A promising Christian falls into apostasy and intemperance, disappointing expectations.
Mr. — was blessed with a worthy parentage. All that heart could desire was lavished upon him, and especial regard was had to the cultivation of his intellectual powers, which, by nature, were of a superior order. He received a college education, and in early life was supposed to be the subject of a gracious visitation of the Spirit of God. His early Christian experience and deportment gave the cheering promise, that ere long he would be a "burning and a shining light;" but an awful disappointment followed. Instead of devoting himself and all his powers to the work of the ministry, he chose the profession of the law. However unpropitious that profession may be to the growth and energy of true piety, the experience of his worthy father, as well as the lives of seve-
Delany, and told him he was come to dine with him. He thanked his excellency for the honor conferred on him. The dinner was soon in readiness. It was a simple meal, such as was suitable for Dr. D. and his mother. The old lady did the honors of the table. The host made no apology for the entertainment, but said to Lord C.,
"To stomachs cloyed with costly fare Simplicity alone is rare."
Lord C. was highly pleased; for though a courtier, he hated ceremony when he sought pleasure. At the close of the meal, his excellency told Dr. D. that he had always thought him a well-bred man, but had never had so good a proof before. "Others," said he, "on whom I have tried the same experiment, have met me with as much confusion, as if I had come to arrest them for high treason; nay, deprived me of their conversation, by undue attention to the dinner, and then spoiled my meal by fulsome apologies or needless profusion."
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ral eminent Christian lawyers, were a sufficient guarantee that he too might have served God in the profession of his choice, if his heart had been right. But, alas! the fire of devotion had gone out. Not only was the holy calling of the Christian abandoned, not merely the power of godliness lost, but even the form of religion was in a great measure relinquished, and he became a votary of pleasure, and attached to the bottle.
The subject of this melancholy picture had many engaging qualities; and, in intervals of correct moral deportment, was capable of affording much pleasure to the social circle. At times, too, when conscience raised her voice and lashed him with the stings of remorse, he could chide his wanderings, and cover himself with reproaches. But his, alas! was no the sorrow that worketh repentance unto life; it was the keen remorse, the gnawing anguish of a victim of despair. Mr.— entered the married state, and although the partner of his bosom did not long continue with him, she left behind her a child, whose tender age, it might have been supposed, would have induced the unhappy man to pause in his ruinous course. But, alas! the endearing relation of father had no charm to break the fatal spell which the god of this world had cast upon his soul. In a little while his own father was stretched upon his dying couch; and his last moments were rendered bitter, not by his own prospects, for he had hope in Christ, but by the character of his ungodly son.
These trying dispensations of Providence had no effect to rouse the unhappy man from the awful lethargy into which he was sunk, and yet his friends were unwilling to give him up for lost. His old companions, some of whom were eminent as preachers of righteousness, expostulated with him. Very many solemn letters were addressed to him. One, who never exchanged a word with him, drew a faithful likeness of his character; the deluded victim saw it in print, and though not a little enraged at the exposure, confessed that the picture was true. In spite of all this, however, he still continued addicted to spirituous liquors, and seemed to place his chief delight in them.
He became, at length, united to an amiable woman, in whose society he might have shared many happy hours, and days, and years, if strong drink had not been dearer to him than all other objects. For a short time he appeared to conduct himself with propriety; but old habits prevailed, and he became their victim with more devotedness than ever. Now and then he would express his deep regret for the wicked course he was pursuing, and appear to desire earnestly that he might be delivered from the horrid temptation; but all his seeming goodness was as the morning cloud, and as the early dew.
Not many weeks previous to the close of this unhappy man's career, he entered into conversation with an old friend, respecting his wicked course of life, and remarked that he desired, above all things, one circumstance to mark his dying hour: "It is," said he, "that I may not possess my reason." "What," rejoined the friend, "to die in a state of derangement, Mr.—! Is it possible that can be your desire?" "It is," replied the victim of despair. "I know what has been my past life; that I have professed religion and apostatized; that I have become an abandoned wretch, lost to all shame and propriety; and I am sure, that if I were to have my reason in my last moments, the retrospect of life would fill me with such insupportable remorse, that I should be a terror to my friends and to myself. I know that I am not, and never shall be, prepared for heaven, and I therefore shall be damned; and I wish that these things may not be in my thoughts in my last moments, but that I may be insensible."
At a time not very distant from the period when he uttered the strange remarks above quoted, he told his wife, in a very grave manner, that he should not long be with her. To others of his family he made the same or similar statements; in all of which he named the day on which he would cease to exist. For a few days after this he appeared to do pretty well, but soon relapsed, and engaging in mirth and festivity, his thoughts of death were all forgotten. Whenever he did speak of death, however, he expressed his horror of dying, associating with it, as he always did, the prospect of bitter remorse for his past wickedness. He was at length attacked by violent illness, which brought on convulsions of the whole frame, long continued, and often repeated for several days, during the whole of which he was deranged, and died as senseless as the brutes.
Companions Of J. A. James
A man’s infidel companions lead him to apostasy, but he later repents in agony.
The Rev. J. A. James relates in his "ANXIOUS INQUIRER AFTER SALVATION DIRECTED AND ENCOURAGED," that he began his own religious course with three companions, one of whom was materially serviceable, in some particulars, to him; but he soon proved that his religion was nothing more than transient devotion. A second returned to his sin "like a dog to his vomit, and a sow the is washed to her wallowing in the mire." The third, who was for some time his intimate friend, inbribed the principles of infidelity; and so great was his zeal for his new creed, that he sat up at night to copy Paine's "Age of Reason." After a while he was seized with a dangerous disease: his conscience awoke; the convictions of his mind were agonizing; his remorse was horrible. He ordered all his infidel extracts, the copying out of which had cost him so many nights, to be burnt before his face; and if not in words, yet in spirit—
"Burn, burn," he cried, in sacred rage, "Hell is the due of every page."
His infidel companions and his infidel principles forsook him at once, and in the hearing of a pious friend, who visited him, and to whom he confessed with tears and lamentations his backsliding, he uttered his confessions of sin, and his vows of repentance. He recovered; but, painful to relate, it was only to relapse again, if not into infidelity, yet, at any rate, into an utter disregard to religion.
Apostacy And Suicide
John Child’s pride led to apostasy and despair, ending in suicide.
John Child, of Bedford, England, in early life professed religion, and was for some years zealous in its extension, both by preaching and writing. But yielding to temptation, and indulging a spirit of pride, he became the avowed enemy of the gospel, and wrote a book against the truths he had professed to love. After this, he was brought into a very awful state of mind, absolutely despairing of the mercy of God being extended to him. He was visited by several ministers and others, but without any good effect, and at last committed suicide, by hanging himself in his own house, in the year 1684.
Spira'S Death
Francis Spira recanted faith and died despairing of God's mercy despite Christian visits.
BED.—Francis Spira, an Italian lawyer, embraced Christianity, discovered great zeal in its diffusion, and was distinguished for his extensive knowledge of the gospel. When he found that he was likely to suffer for the sake of Christ, he publicly recanted; and soon after being seized with illness, and having the prospect of death before him, he was visited by several eminent Christians, who conversed and prayed with him, but without avail. He died in a state of the most awful despair, declaring the impossibility of his finding mercy at the hands of God.
The Apostate Burned
A man who feared martyrdom died accidentally in a fire while saving possessions.
Richard Denton, a blacksmith, residing in Cambridgeshire, was a professor of religion, and the means of converting the martyr William Woolsey. When told by that holy man that he wondered he had not followed him to prison, Denton replied, that he could not burn in the cause of Christ. Not long after, his house being on fire, he ran in to save some of his goods, and was burnt to death.
Cranmer'S Unworthy Hand
Cranmer repented apostasy by burning his own hand before martyrdom.
In the bloody reign of Queen Mary of England, Archbishop Cranmer became obnoxious to her persecuting spirit. She was determined to bring him to the stake; but previously employed emissaries to persuade him, by means of flattery and false promises, to renounce his faith. The good man was overcome, and subscribed to the errors of the Church of Rome. His conscience smote him; he returned to his former persuasion; and, when brought to the stake, he stretched forth the hand that had made the unhappy signature, and held it in the flames till it was entirely consumed, frequently exclaiming, "That unworthy hand:" after which he patiently suffered martyrdom, and ascended to receive its reward.
Apostacy Destroys The Confidence Of Worldly Men
A king respected a faithful Christian soldier despite mocking Christianity.
It is well known that Frederick the Great took pride in having his soldiers well disciplined; and was therefore particularly attentive to the conduct of the subalterns. It is perhaps not so well known, that he sometimes manifested a real respect for religious people; for few men could more clearly discern the excellence of the conduct produced by holy principles. While, therefore, he sneered at Christianity, he sometimes promoted to offices of trust those who consistently maintained it.
A sergeant, of the name of Thomas, who was very successful in training his men, and whose whole deportment pleased the king, was often noticed by him. He inquired respecting the place of the sergeant's birth, his parents, his religious creed, and the place of worship which he frequented. On being informed that he was united with the Moravians, and attended their chapel in William-street, he exclaimed, "Oh! Oh! you are a fanatic, are you? Well, well; only take care to do your duty, and improve your men."
The king's common salutation after this, was, "Well, how do you do? how are you going on in William-street?" His majesty at length, in conversation with Thomas's colonel, mentioned his intention of promoting the sergeant to an office in the commissariat department, upon the death of an aged man who then filled it.
The colonel, in order to encourage Thomas, told him of the king's design. Unhappily this had an injurious effect upon the mind of the sergeant; for, alas! such is the depravity of the human heart, that few can endure the temptation of prosperity without sustaining spiritual loss. Thomas began to forsake the assemblies of his Christian brethren; and when reproved by his minister, he said, "his heart was with him, but he was afraid of offending the king." The minister told him to take good heed that his heart did not deceive him. Soon after the sergeant's religious declension, he was again accosted by the king, with "Well, how do you do? how are your friends in William-street?" "I do not know, please your majesty," was the reply. "Not know! not know!" answered the king; "have you been ill?" "No, please your majesty," rejoined the sergeant; "but I do not see it necessary to attend there so often as I used to do." "Then you are not so great a fanatic as I thought you;" was the royal answer.
In a short time the aged officer died and the colonel waited upon his majesty to inform him of the vacancy, and to remind him of his intention to raise sergeant Thomas to the situation. "No no!" said the king, "he shall not have it; he does not go so often to William-street as he used to do." Surprised with this peremptory refusal, the colonel withdrew, and on his return found his sergeant waiting for the confirmation of his appointment. "I do not know what is the matter with the king today," said the colonel, "but he will not give you the situation. He says you do not go so often to William-street as you used to do. I do not know what he means; but I suppose you do." Struck in a moment with the awful impropriety of his conduct, he bowed to the colonel, and departed to humble himself before God. He ever after adored the Divine mercy, which did not leave him fully to realize the Scriptural threatening, "The prosperity of fools shall destroy them."
Infidels Going Masked
Infidels promote their cause under the guise of social reforms, masking true intentions.
At an infidel convention, held in New York, John A Collins, one of the, principal speakers, discoursed at length upon the best means of supporting infidelity. After a series of railings against God and the Bible, and every thing sacred, he used this language; "I never deliver lectures on infidelity; but I am constantly lecturing on the various reforms of the age. I lecture on temperance, on anti-slavery, on peace, on moral reform, on socialism, &c., &c., but wherever I go I lecture on infidel principles! Thus our cause is promoted continually."
Sabat'S Wretchedness
An apostate feels deep torment and confusion, illustrating the bitterness of forsaking God.
After poor Sabat, an Arabian, who had professed faith in Christ by means of the labors of the Rev. Henry Martyn, had apostatized from Christianity, and written a book in favor of Mohammedanism, he was met at Malacca, by the Rev. Dr. Milne, who proposed to him some very pointed questions; in reply to which he said, "I am unhappy! I have a mountain of burning sand on my head! When I go about, I know not what I am doing." It is indeed "an evil thing and bitter to forsake the Lord our God."
A Modern Judas
A Protestant is betrayed and killed by his own brother, who later commits suicide in guilt.
John Diazius, a native of Spain, having embraced the Protestant faith, came afterwards to Germany, where he visited Malvinda, the Pope's agent there. Having attempted in vain to bring him back to the church of Rome, Malvinda sent to Rome for his brother Alphonsus Diazius, who, hearing that his brother was become a Protestant, came into Germany with an assassin, resolving either to draw him back to Popery, or to destroy him. Alphonsus finding his brother so steadfast in his belief of the truths of the gospel, that neither the promises nor threats of the Pope's agent, nor his own pretensions of brotherly love, could prevail on him to return to Popery, feigned to take a most friendly and affection farewell, and then departed. Having soon returned, he sent in the ruffians who accompanied him, with letters to his brother, himself following behind, and while his brother was reading them, the assassin cleft his head with a hatchet which they purchased on the way from a carpenter; and, 'taking horse, they both rode off.' Alphonsus, though highly applauded by the Papists, became the prey of a guilty conscience. His horror and dread of mind were so insupportable, that, being at Trent during the general council, like another Judas, he put an end to his life by hanging himself.
A Martyr'S Crown Lost
A man grieves losing his courage to suffer for the truth despite knowing it deeply.
James Le Fevre, of Etables, did not outwardly depart from the church of Rome, yet at the bottom of his heart he was a Protestant. He was protected by the Queen of Navarre, sister to Francis I; and, dining with her in company with some other learned men, whose conversation pleased the queen, he began to weep: and when the queen asked him the reason of it, he answered, "the enormity of his sins threw him into that grief! It was not the remembrance of any lewdness he had been guilty of, and with regard to other vices, he felt his conscience easy enough; but he was pricked in his conscience, that having known the truth and taught it to several persons who had sealed it with their blood, he had the weakness to keep himself in an asylum far from the places where crowns of martyrdom were distributed." He went to bed, where he was found dead a few hours after.