Nine years ago tonight, I moderated an event with Baltimore Archbishop William E. Lori in Krakow. Pope Francis would soon be in Poland, and our conversation in a bar in the main square was part of a somewhat massive English-language warm-up act (culminating in taking over the 22,000-capacity Tauron arena), organized by the Knights of Columbus.

I bring this up because it wasn’t until after the event that I noticed all the military officers guarding the event. They were apparently upstairs, downstairs, outside, and plain-clothes within our eyesight as we talked on the stage-like platform. I assume the Knights would have always made sure to have some security, but the reason for the extraordinary presence was Father Jacques Hamel.

In France that morning, nine years ago now, the 85-year-old Catholic priest’s throat was slashed while celebrating a weekday Mass at his Normandy parish. ISIS took credit, and eventually four men went to jail on terrorism charges.

It was so clear why he was killed even some media couldn’t help but use jihad in their headlines.

(I was proud of Archbishop Lori and the Knights for not canceling in what might not have even been an abundance of caution, from what I was told at the time.)

Parishioners weighed in immediately, describing him, essentially, as a priest’s priest. He was a man called, who answered, and served faithfully — dying for the One he committed his life to:

Hamel was “very discreet”, said the woman, who came to know him when she took catechism classes with him as a young girl. “He did not like to put himself forward. He was someone who was very much appreciated in the local community.”

Another neighbour told the magazine: “This was a man who did his job to the very end. He was old, but always available for everyone. He was a good priest. He had been here for many years; he lived in the rectory here. Many parishioners knew him very well.”

That fall, Pope Francis remembered Father Hamel at the altar and had some clear and powerful words about the witness of the persecuted in the world today and the evil behind their trial:

The early Christians confessed Jesus Christ by paying with their lives. The early Christians were presented with apostasy, namely: ‘Say that our god is the real one, not yours. Make a sacrifice to our god or to our gods”. And when they did not do this, when they refused apostasy, they were killed. This story is repeated to this very day; and today in the Church there are more Christian martyrs than there were in the early days. Today Christians are murdered, tortured, imprisoned, and slaughtered, because they refuse to deny Jesus Christ. In this history, we come to our Fr Jacques: he is part of this chain of martyrs. Christians who suffer today — whether it be in prison or by death or torture — in refusing to deny Jesus Christ, they indeed show the cruelty of this persecution. This cruelty that demands apostasy is — let us say the word — Satanic. How good it would be if all religious denominations would say: “Killing in the name of God is satanic”.

Fr Jacques Hamel had his throat cut on the Cross, precisely while he was celebrating the sacrifice of the Cross of Christ. This good, meek man of brotherhood, who was always trying to make peace, was assassinated as if he were a criminal. This is the satanic thread of persecution. But there is one thing, in this man who accepted his martyrdom there, with the martyrdom of Christ, at the altar, there is one thing that causes me to reflect a great deal: in the midst of the difficult moment that he experienced, in the midst also of this tragedy that he saw approaching, this gentle man, this good man, this man who strove for brotherhood, did not lose his clarity of thought and clearly said the name of the murderer, he said it very clearly: “Be gone, Satan!”. He gave his life for us, he gave his life so as not to deny Jesus. He gave his life in the same sacrifice of Jesus on the altar, and from there he accused the author of persecution: “Be gone, Satan!”.

And this example of courage, also the martyrdom of his own life, of emptying himself in order to help others, of creating brotherhood among people, helps each of us to move forward without fear. May he, from Heaven — we ought to pray to him, because he is a martyr! Martyrs are blessed, and we should pray to him — give us the meekness, brotherhood, peace, and also the courage to speak the truth: killing in the name of God is satanic.

Catholics often ask the saints, and martyrs, to intercede on our behalf — to plead our case to God when we pray. I often ask Father Hamel when I read about the courage to be Catholic that it takes to simply go to Mass in, say, Nigeria.

Father Hamel, pray we may be good stewards here at home of the gift of religious freedom, and a beacon of hope and refuge for the persecuted the world over.