By Francis Neil G. Jalando-on

Rev. Dr. Francis Howard Rose was the epitome of the Central Spirit.

In June 1945, for the first time, the story of the Hopevale Martyrdom was published through a booklet entitled “Through Shining Archway.” This 55-page booklet was edited by Dr. Jesse Wilson and was sold at 25 cents by the Roger Williams Press, 3734 Payne Ave., Cleveland 14, Ohio. This memorial booklet included the biographies of each 11 missionaries and one child.

Because of the inspiration brought about by the stories of the Hopevale Martyrs who were captured on December 19, 1943, and were executed the next day, a lot of people began to research about their life and ministry. In 1946, the American Baptist Foreign Mission Society, New York, published the poem of Dr. Francis Howard Rose. This was written in 1931 and one can see the commitment and passion of Dr. Rose in the mission work. When he wrote it, he probably had no inkling that he would become a martyr. But in every line in this poem, you can read the readiness to become a martyr.

According to the Council on Finance and Promotion of the Northern Baptist Convention for the American Baptist Foreign Mission Society and Woman’s American Baptist Foreign Mission Society, “the words of the Martyr’s Antiphony have been adapted by Mrs. H. Hurley Baird to be sung to the Schumann music used for “Lord, Speak To Me” (Canonbury L.M.). Mrs. Baird of Newark, New Jersey, is a member of the Board of Managers of the Woman’s American Baptist Foreign Mission Society. The adaptation uses four of the original eight stanzas and is now a hymn rather than an echo response. It is hoped that this martyr/s hymn will be widely used in conferences, house parties, and church services.”

Here is the poem that was written by Dr. Rose in its entirety:

THE MARTYR’S ANTIPHONY
Christ Died For Us – We Die For Christ
By Rev. Dr. Francis Howard Rose

All human progress up to God
Has stained the stairs of time with blood;
For every gain for Christendom,
Is bought by someone’ martyrdom,
Not ours alone, Nor man’s alone.

In furnace fire, a faithful three,
Though bound in chains, in spirit free
And walked with them through livid heat.
A king’s defeat! A king’s defeat!

On seething sea, in darkest night,
The ship-wrecked saw a Walking Light
Defying wave and wind and deep,
He put the wind and wave to sleep.
Ah! He will keep! Ah! He will keep!

With tend’rest touch He heals our ills,
And from His well of life He fills
With living water, strength divine,
Each thirsting branch of this His vine;
For He is mine, And He is mine.

For us He poured the crimson cup,
And bade us take and drink it up.
Himself He poured to set us free.
Help us, O Christ, though few we be,
To drink with Thee: To drink life’s cup with Thee.

Nor did He yet forget to pray
While midnight drifted toward the day.
Then from prayer with spirit power
To meet His zero hour: His zero hour.

Ten thousand saints come thronging home,
From lion’s den and catacomb;
The fire and sword and beasts defied;
For Christ, their king, they testified
And gladly died: They gladly died.

With eye of faith we see today
That cross-led column wind its way
Up life’s repeated calvary.
Borne up by super-human powers,
We rise to take the hill with ours,
O Christ, we follow Thee! We follow Thee!