The thin, frail man sat huddled over an open book as the candlelight flickered upon the page. The book was opened to Isaiah 43:1–2, “Fear not: for I have redeemed thee, I have called thee by thy name; thou art mine. When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee.” 

Looking up from the passage, Thomas Bilney gazed long and hard into the yellow flame atop his candle. He cautiously reached out his finger toward the flame, but the hot fire defied his approach. Quickly, he pulled back in alarm and dismay. If he could not touch the candle’s small fire, how would he have the courage to face the ravenous flames of the stake tomorrow morning?

This question plagued the soul of Bilney, for he had always been a quiet, shy man, hardly one to be considered a “mighty man of valor.” In fact, he had been just the opposite. He had even faced the stake once before and had renounced the truth in order to spare his life! He shuddered as he remembered the awful guilt that had crushed his heart since that day of denial. The man leaned back and closed his eyes, remembering the steps that had brought him a second time to the fire.

Thomas Bilney was born in Norwich, England. It was the very same city in which he now sat awaiting the dawn of his final morning on earth. During those days of boyhood and early manhood, Bilney had groped in the darkness of human reason.

A bright lad, he was sent to the University of Cambridge. There he filled his mind with knowledge, but his heart was empty of true wisdom. He made splendid advancement in the arts and sciences but could not satisfy his hunger for truth. Bilney wrote of those days, “I spent all that I had upon these ignorant physicians.” Confessions, vigils, fastings, and penance had only brought temporary relief to his troubled heart.

One spring day in 1519, the scholar heard of a new book edited by a man named Erasmus. It was a Greek text of the New Testament set side by side with a new Latin translation by Erasmus. Bilney was drawn to the new book out of his scholastic love for the ancient languages. 

The ancient Greek language was fast becoming the talk of all Europe. Bilney finally found a copy of this specific book by Erasmus in a local shop. But just as he reached for the book, he drew back in fear. He was well aware that the authorities at Cambridge forbade any Greek and Hebrew Bibles, calling them “the sources of all heresies.” But Bilney’s curiosity overcame his fear. He purchased the volume of the Greek New Testament and tucked it under his scholastic gown.

Back in his room, Bilney pulled out the volume and began to read. Hour after hour passed as he poured over the words of Holy Scripture. In the pages of that book, Bilney found what he had long sought. He was particularly struck by a passage from Paul’s first epistle to Timothy: “This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners; of whom I am chief” (I Timothy 1:15).

That night, Bilney was converted to Christ. Fasts, vigils, pilgrimages, purchases of indulgence all had failed. On the cross of Calvary, Christ Jesus had done what Thomas Bilney could not do for himself. Bilney had heard the voice of Jesus of Nazareth.

Soon, the eager young disciple found kindred spirits at Cambridge. Over a period of several years, a few young men began to meet and discuss the Scriptures at a place in Cambridge called the White Horse Inn. Here gathered men such as John Lambert, Matthew Parker, John Rogers, Miles Coverdale, John Frith, and William Tyndale. They were men of various interests and backgrounds, but they all were united in their love for the Novum Testamentum, and they became known as “the Scripture men.” 

Bilney was personally responsible for the conversion of Hugh Latimer, a splendid scholar who joined the little group at the inn in 1524. All these men knew and loved Bilney as their friend. He was quiet, unassuming, and patient. The more rugged spirits of bold men such as Parker, Rogers, and Tyndale were strongly drawn to the gentle Bilney, and they called him by the affectionate name “Little Bilney.” His short stature and frail body matched this name well.

In 1527, Thomas Bilney was arrested and threatened with death if he would not recant his faith in Christ. A stronger man like Luther or Knox would have stood firm, but “Little Bilney” had wilted under the fierce threats and had renounced his errors. Immediately after his recantation, Bilney was oppressed with a deep sense of guilt and unworthiness. Like the Apostle Peter, Bilney had denied his Lord and had gone out and wept bitterly.

For over a year, Bilney languished under these doubts and fears. He doubted whether or not God had accepted him. He feared that he had committed the unpardonable sin. He was overwhelmed with the thought that, as he had been ashamed of Jesus, so the Son of Man would one day denounce him before the Father. By degrees, Bilney recovered and resolved that he would intentionally get arrested again. This occurred in Norwich in 1531. 

Now, for a second time, he faced the fire. What would the morrow bring? Would his courage fail again? Would “Little Bilney” again deny his Lord? His mind was filled with doubt as he considered his own frailty, yet he was encouraged as he thought of the Lord visiting Peter on the shore of Galilee. Like Peter, perhaps the Lord had given him another opportunity to seal with his blood the testimony of Christ.

As Bilney thought about these things, he heard the sound of steps outside his cell. He looked up to find his friend Matthew Parker, one from the White Horse Inn group. Parker would one day become the future Archbishop of Canterbury under Queen Elizabeth I. His good friend Parker, knowing the frailty and timidity of “Little Bilney,” had come to strengthen him. But the well-meaning visitor and friend found that his words were unnecessary because Someone Else was already there with Bilney.

The man who had failed once would not fail a second time. Pointing to the open Bible before him, Thomas Bilney slowly recited these words to Parker: “when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee.” Then, with a steady hand, Bilney stretched out his finger again into the flame of the small candle. Matthew Parker watched in amazement as his timid friend resolutely held his finger perfectly still as the flame burned the flesh from the finger. This was not a presumptuous test of God, but a firm act of reliance upon the truth of Scripture! 

We do not know whether Bilney felt the searing heat of that flame. However, we do know that God gave him in that moment the grace to bear it according to His gracious promise: “My strength is made perfect in weakness.”

On the morrow, Thomas Bilney did not waver from his purpose. A crowd had gathered in the streets as he walked resolutely toward the fire. Some thought that the weak, frail man would probably recant again. But as the fagots were piled around him, “Little Bilney” raised himself to his full height and said in a firm voice, “Good people, I am come hither to die.” After reciting Psalm 143, he took off his outer garments and was bound to the stake.

As the torch was applied to the wood, Bilney did not flinch. The flames burned high around his face, but a strong wind blew them away. Bilney stood firm as the wood was ignited a second time, and then a third. The third time, the fire burned in full strength. Whatever pain the noble martyr felt was bearable as evidenced as Bilney held his head high while the flames intensified around him. He cried out one brief phrase in Latin, “Jesu, credo!” (Jesus, I believe). 

With that dying prayer of faith, “Little Bilney” sunk downward into the fire, and the flames consumed all that was mortal. The weak was made strong, and with Bilney in that fire was “One like unto the Son of Man,” the Christ Who had promised “Fear not: for I have redeemed thee, I have called thee by thy name; thou art mine.” 

Sources and Further Reference:

Loane, Marcus. Masters of the English Reformation. Carlisle, PA: Banner of Truth, 2005.

Foxe, John. Foxe’s Book of Martyrs. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Publishers, 2011.