St. Blandine and Companions are observed as an optional memorial on the French liturgical calendar on June 2. 

When we think of the martyrs of antiquity, we imagine Rome, maybe the Colosseum. But we should not forget that the Roman Empire was bigger than Italy and that while some anti-Christian persecutions were Empire-wide, many were local. Let’s not forget that Gaul — modern-day France — was part of the Roman Empire, one of Julius Caesar’s proud conquests.

Lyons, a city in eastern France near Switzerland today known for banking and commerce, also dates back to old Roman days. And, in the last quarter of the second century, it was the site of an anti-Christian persecution that involved St. Blandine (sometimes written as “St. Blandina” and friends).

Marcus Aurelius was a Roman Emperor whom some extol for his philosophical insights (his Meditations embody his Stoicism). His attitude towards Christianity is unclear: traditionally, especially in Protestant circles, he was deemed a persecutor, but various historians today dispute that claim. That does not mean, however, that there were not anti-Christian sentiments in the Empire or that the Emperor intervened to staunch them.

What we know of St. Blandine comes from a letter the Church in Lyons sent to other Christian churches and of which Eusebius (an early Church historian) wrote, about the martyrdom of her and her companions around A.D. 177. 

In the Acts of the Apostles, Peter and the Apostles are jailed by the Sanhedrin for preaching Christ Crucified and Risen. Once again enjoined to stop preaching, they are flogged, then released. Acts 5:41 recounts that the Apostles left the Sanhedrin “rejoicing, because they had been found worthy to suffer for the Name.” Martyrs were the pride of ancient local churches. They were testaments to its faith and fidelity. 

Christians were suspect — on social peripheries in the best of times, and underground in the worst. Given such a quasi-clandestine nature, all sorts of crimes, perversions, and blood libels could be and were attributed to them. That is exactly what happened in Lyons. 

Blandine, a slave, and her master were both accused of wrongdoing (which included being Christians). Under torture (any better way to extract the truth, according to the ancient mind), it was hoped to extract a confession of guilt. But Blandine and her master persisted in their profession of faith. She insisted: “I am a Christian; we have done nothing evil.” 

So, as in Rome, a group of Christians were led into the amphitheater — Lyons’ Colosseum — and subjected to various tortures for the sadistic entertainment of the audience. Blandine was left for last. First, she was tied to a stake as lion food. But the lions did not eat her. Later, she was scourged, grilled and stampeded by a bull (think Quo Vadis). Given that persecutors often sought to prolong tortures for the pain of their victims and the pleasure of their audience, divine protection and human sadism have coexisted). In the end, Blandine was killed by a dagger. (Think Sts. Perpetua and Felicity, their slightly younger contemporaries, here.)

What can we conclude about St. Blandine?

• In the Roman world, virginity itself was a suspect category, some bizarre distinguishing feature of those cult Christians. Recently, reading some social media tweets about IDAHOT (International Day Against Homophobia and Transphobia), one poster described today’s Amsterdam as being as sexually “progressive” as “pre-Christian Roman.” In pre-Christian Rome, a slave could not be raped because she belonged entirely — including her sexual functions — to her master. Can you then consider the significance of Blandine’s virginity and martyrdom?
• As noted, slaves and masters were tortured in order sometimes to get slaves to reveal (or perjure) something derogatory about their masters. That Christian slaves and masters showed solidarity tells us certain things, including that genuinely lived Christianity (not just “somebody splashed me on the head as a kid” Christianity) could even transform the slave-master situation and relationship. (This is not a defense of slavery but a recognition that Christianity even affected it, albeit gradually in history.) This is what St. Paul was getting at with Philemon and Onesimus when he urges the former to treat the latter, a slave, as a “brother in Christ.” 
• Eusebius (Book 5) speaks of Blandine as a model witness, almost like a “coach” whose example encouraged and sustained her companions who drew strength from her (who was the last to die). In this, she demonstrates the supportive nature of the Christian community: despite literally doing their “damnedest,” their persecutors cannot break them, even if they were reckoned by the latter as social dregs. 
• Blandine is a spiritual mother. She reminds us of the physical and spiritual mother of the Maccabees (2 Maccabees 7) who, watching her seven sons be tortured for refusing to apostatize from Judaism, also sustains them in their faith until the end, even though she is the witness of all their deaths.
• Exposed to the lions, Blandine is like Daniel of the Old Testament (Daniel 6), confident in her prayer that the Lord’s will for her — whatever it is — is good and to be trusted.

St. Blandine is depicted in this tympanum from the 19th-century church in Lyons under her patronage. The late 19th century saw a revival of “neo-Gothic” architecture in church construction, in Europe and America. It is neo-Gothic not just because it was a second wind for the medieval architectural form but because advances in construction techniques since the Middle Ages made building such style churches easier.

A “tympanum” is a panel in architecture usually used for decoration, e.g., (as in this case), the space above a central entry door. In many Catholic churches, it is a space reserved for either a Last Judgment scene or some scene from the patron saint of the church. (Last Judgments are also more usually above the central ceiling above/behind the main altar). 

The scene depicts one of the multiple tortures inflicted on St. Blandine: being tied to a stake to be eaten by lions. We see the pillar. We see St. Blandine, her eyes and arms raised heavenwards, in trusting prayer but also in a cruciform shape. We see two fierce lions ready to attack her, yet restrained. We see a depraved people in the amphitheater standing in the background of the tympanum. 

Two other cultural notes:

• The late 19th-century French illustrator Emile Bayard produced a series of engraved illustrations of the life of St. Blandine. They can be seen here.
• In 2015, the French hip-hop group “Leader Vocal” produced a song and video, centered on St. Blandine, to highlight the global persecution of Christians in modern times. You can listen/watch here.

[For additional/background reading, see here, here and here.]