Polycarp

The next morning, the soldiers took Polycarp to the arena. The arena was full of people expecting to see wild animals and races.
Claudius introduced Polycarp to the crowd.
“I want you to meet the Bishop of Smyrna,” Claudius said. “He is here to recognize our God, Jupiter. I am willing to give him a chance to repent.”
Polycarp looked at Claudius.
“Repent of what?” he asked. “I have done no wrong.”
“When your people helped my troops, they didn’t recognize Jupiter,” he said. “All I ask is that you admit Jupiter is God.”
“I can’t do that,” he said. “I am a Christian. I don’t worship Jupiter.”
“You are making a mistake, bishop,” Claudius said. “I really don’t want to kill you.”
The mostly pagan crowd began to jeer.
“If you do not acknowledge Jupiter,” Claudius said. “I will turn the wild animals loose on you.”
“I will not say Jupiter is God,” Polycarp said. “Bring them on.”

Claudius decided not to turn the wild animals loose. He wanted to keep them for later. He spoke to the crowd.
“What do you think his punishment should be?” Claudius asked. “He won’t recognize Jupiter.”
“Burn him alive,” the crowd answered. “Burn him alive.”
Claudius looked at his troops.
“Maybe we should burn him,” he said. “Gather twigs and sticks and we will burn him.”
The crowd built a large stack of wood.
Claudius glared at Polycarp and said, “I have decided to burn you.”
He then instructed his men, “Soldier, bind him and place him on top of the wood.”
“You don’t need to bind me,” Polycarp said. “Just have someone help me.”
They placed Polycarp on top of the wood.
“Light the fire,” he said. “This will end our problem.”
The fire was lighted and it burned with great heat. Polycarp lay on top of the pile of burning wood.
“The fire isn’t getting to him,” Claudius said. “It is dancing around him.”
“His God is protecting him,” someone in the crowd yelled. “You can’t even burn him.”
“Kill that trouble maker,” Claudius yelled. “No one can talk to me like that.”
The soldiers weren’t sure who yelled the remarks, so they killed several people. The wood was almost all burned and Polycarp was still lying in the middle of it.
“Executioner,” Claudius said. “Stab him until he is dead.”
“My God has been with me for eighty six years,” Polycarp said. “Now I will be with him.”
“My fire may not burn you,” he said. “I think our knives will kill you.”
The executioner stabbed Polycarp several times. Blood gushed from him and extinguished the fire.

A priest approached Claudius.
“I would like his body, so we can give him a proper burial,” he said. “He is dead.”
“You can’t have his body,” Claudius said. “I am not finished with it.”
“You don’t need the body of a dead man,” the priest said. “I will take care of it.”
Claudius had the soldiers remove the body from the arena. They took it away and built another fire and burned the body. After the body was burned, the soldiers returned to the arena.
The priests went to Polycarp’s body.
“Gather his remains,” Francis said. “Take them to the church.”
“I will gather them,” Nascien volunteered. “He was my friend.”
“For the next three days, I want at least one priest praying, on his knees, at the altar in the churches,” Francis said. “Then we will celebrate Polycarp’s life.”
“I will miss him,” Nicodemus said. “He was like an angel on earth. He was a saint.”

On the third day, most of the people in Smyrna came to celebrate Polycarp’s life. It was unofficially the first saint’s day.