They Died Serving The Marginalized, Will We? – OpEd
(UCA News) -- In 1693, a Portuguese Jesuit named John de Britto was beheaded in southern India. The Tamils called him Arulanandar, meaning “a blissful person blessed by God’s grace," but his crime was simpler than that: he had lived among the marginalized, adopted their customs, learnt their languages, and insisted they were fully human.
Three centuries might separate us from his death, but the questions his life raises for Indian Christianity have never been more urgent.
De Britto did not preach from a distance or build missions behind safe walls. He immersed himself in communities that the caste system had pushed to the absolute margins. This was not charity work or missionary tourism. It was genuine solidarity with people that society had deemed untouchable.
De Britto believed the Gospel belonged first to those who suffered most, and when he challenged the social hierarchies that caused that suffering, he paid with his life.
The pattern did not end in 1693.
On a January night in 1999, Graham Staines and his two young sons, Philip and Timothy, were burnt alive while they slept in their station wagon in Manoharpur, Odisha.
Staines, an Australian missionary, had spent years caring for leprosy patients and others abandoned. He touched people whose families refused to care for them. He was not seeking converts. He was seeking the forgotten. His sons were ten and six years old.
History will remember their compassion. India must never forget this shame.
Just last month, Pastor Bipin Bihari Nayak was beaten, paraded with a garland of slippers, force-fed cow dung, tied to a temple, and forced to chant slogans against his faith. He was left bleeding for hours.
Yet when the violence ended, he chose forgiveness. His response was not about self-preservation. It echoed something deeper, something that connects him to de Britto and Staines and countless others who understood that hatred only breeds more hatred.
These witnesses pose uncomfortable questions to the Indian Church today. In a climate of mounting persecution, the temptation is to retreat, to become defensive, to protect what we have.
But the lives of these martyrs point in a different direction entirely. They suggest that the Church is most truly itself when it is most truly for others, particularly those whom others have forgotten.
Caste discrimination persists in Indian churches today — in seating arrangements, marriage alliances, and leadership positions. If the Church itself reflects the divisions of broader society, what prophetic witness does it offer? What moral authority can it claim when demanding its own rights?
The persecution Christians face makes this mission of radical service more relevant, not less. When a community is under pressure, the instinct is always self-preservation.
But these witnesses understood that the Christian calling has never been primarily about self-preservation. It has been about self-emptying service to others, particularly to those whom power has crushed.
Staines could have returned to Australia. Pastor Nayak could stop his ministry. But they grasped what de Britto did: the Church gains credibility not by demanding its rights, though it has them, but by demonstrating whose side it stands on when the chips are down.
This does not mean accepting injustice meekly or staying silent about persecution.
The murders of Staines and his sons demand justice. The assault on Pastor Nayak demands accountability. But the defense of Christian rights becomes exponentially more credible when accompanied by visible, sacrificial service to those who have no rights, no voice, and no platform.
Consider what this might look like. Churches prioritize education for Dalit and Adivasi children regardless of religion. Christian institutions are leading fights against bonded labor, human trafficking, and caste discrimination. Parishes are becoming safe havens for victims of domestic violence. Medical missions serving the poorest without any expectation of conversion.
This is the de Britto model, the Staines model — letting the Gospel speak through actions that need no explanation because their love is self-evident.
The accusation of forced conversion reveals a profound misunderstanding. Neither de Britto nor Staines forced anyone. They offered dignity, healing, and spiritual hope to people society had systematically dehumanized.
When people chose Christianity, they chose it because it offered something their own social structure had denied: inherent worth and equality before God.
The most powerful answer to accusations of forced conversion is a church so committed to the welfare of the poor that its motives become unquestionable.
The present moment demands both courage and humility from Indian Christians.
Courage to continue serving the marginalized even when it draws suspicion and opposition, even when it costs lives.
Humility to acknowledge where the Church has failed its own ideals, particularly regarding caste.
De Britto was martyred for treating untouchables as fully human. Staines died because he refused to abandon lepers. That same audacity, that same commitment, is needed now.
In a nation grappling with questions of identity and belonging, the Church must resist becoming just another interest group fighting for power. It should be what these witnesses modeled: a community defined by sacrificial love for the least, the last, and the lost.
This is not a survival strategy. It is faithfulness to the Gospel, whatever the cost.
From de Britto’s beheading to the Manoharpur massacre to the assault on Pastor Nayak, the pattern is clear. Authentic Christian mission in India means standing with the oppressed, even when that stance makes us vulnerable. Perhaps especially then.
These martyrs teach us that the Church is never more itself than when it is truly for others.
- The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official editorial position of UCA News.
