Around the year 404 there lived in Syria a young man by the name of Telemachus. He had become a follower of Christ and lived in a monastery until he was sent to Rome on an errand.
Telemachus had never been to a big city before. All the sights amazed and excited him. Early in the afternoon people began streaming into the Coliseum. Telemachus found himself being swept along with the crowd.
Down in the arena a line of men armed with swords, spears and spiked clubs entered from either end and stood facing each other. At a given signal they began to fight.
Telemachus couldn’t believe what he was seeing. One of the combatants lost his balance and was knocked to the ground. Towering over him, his adversary deliberately plunged a spear through his body. It was more than the young Telemachus could stand. He got up and started making his way down out of the stands toward the arena.
Amid the thundering roar of voices, Telemachus looked up into a sea of faces—wild, flushed faces of human beings gone mad. Suddenly he turned and rushed down the aisle. Leaping over the barricade, he rushed out on the field.
Throwing up his hands, he cried out above the roar of voices, “Stop! In the name of the living God, I command you to stop!” In an instant the great coliseum fell silent.
The gladiators stood bewildered by the daring of his strange young man. Then a whir of angry protests went through the stadium. Telemachus was knocked to the ground and a dagger was driven through his heart.
Telemachus had tried to do something about a colossal evil and had failed. How easy it is to look at what he tried to do, shrug our shoulders and say, as so often we do, “Too bad. But what else could you expect? What can one person do?”
The answer, first of all is that one person can, at least, try. And secondly, one person can do far more than we often dare think. Look again at the gladiatorial contests of Rome. Telemachus was killed and the games went on, but something had changed. The spectators began to leave and soon the stands were all but empty.
Then the Christians of Rome who had been silent rose up in wrath behind their martyred hero. Political pressure was brought to bear and soon the games were banned forever.
It was Edward Everett Hale who wrote:
I am only one.
But I am one.
I can’t do everything.
But I can do something.
The something I ought to do,
I can do.
And by the grace of God, I will.
Clyde Nichols is a retired minister, having served First Christian Church in Temple for 27 years as senior minister. He is the author of three books of devotionals and writes a religious column for several Texas newspapers, including The Reporter.
“This is the victory that overcomes the world—our faith.” (I John 5:4)
- Log in or Subscribe to post comments.