To live is Christ, but to die...

Yesterday, I returned to Wonderful Copenhagen in the late evening from a four-day trip in Rome with my loving gentleman Christoffer. We both explored the whole city, ate a ton of pizzas and gelato, and, most importantly, grew in our relationship with one another. Not gunna lie, part of our trip was also filled with finding shady streets, walking many kilometers a day, and hitting up all the nearby parks to sit down and relax for a bit. However, even these moments I would not trade. They were all priceless because they were all with my best friend.

And, of course, we hit up all the touristy places in town like the Pantheon, the Vatican, the Sistine Chapel, and numerous others. The one that gripped my heart though was the Colosseum.

It was bizarre to see how much had been preserved compared to the rest of the city. I could still see the architectural beauty and intricacy with each brick that was laid. I was amazed that the architects could orchestrate numerous men to build such an arena in only a few years almost two thousand years ago with features architects today marvel at.

While standing there and even when looking at it from the outside though, I could not help but see it through the lenses of horror. That majestic arena was a place of ruthless games where my fellow brothers and sisters in Christ were martyred for sport because they believed in Jesus. Crowds of people would shout for their death thinking that their lives were worth the entertainment. I can imagine the fights, the blood-curling screams, and the distorted corpses lying on the stained red ground. Today, people mainly see this arena as an architectural masterpiece. While I also saw it as such, I saw it as a memorial ground for those who, like me, proclaimed Jesus as their Lord and lived their lives for Him.

.........

In 2013, my Latin teacher assigned us with writing and translating a short story over winter break. This is the story I wrote:

In the ancient days of the Colosseum games, Christians were captured for their belief and were used as entertainment. The form of this entertainment was awful and gory. Christians were sent into a huge arena that had swarms of spectators. The purpose of the games was to watch the followers of Christ be slaughtered by gladiators and wild beasts.

There was one Christian named Timothy that was captured and forced into these horrific games. When he accepted Jesus as his Lord and Savior, he knew there was a great possibility of ending up in the Colosseum, but he also knew that Jesus was worth following, even unto death. Now, he was standing in the grand stadium. Knowing his profession of faith in Christ, some of the spectators jeered at him saying, “Let us see what your God will do now!”

The gate at the end of the arena opened, and a gladiator bolted out from the doorway and charged at Timothy with a double-edged gladius. Timothy, however, was not given a weapon to insure his doom. Once the gladiator reached him, he swung the sharp blade at Timothy, but Timothy dodged it by less than a few centimeters. The crowds become louder cheering for Timothy’s death. The gladiator cut again, and the tip slashed into Timothy’s leg. He screamed from the sudden, agonizing pain which encouraged the crowd to cheer even louder.

The fight continued while Timothy received more deadly blows. Eventually, he fell to the ground due to exhaustion and unbearable injuries. His body and the gladiator’s sword were now covered in blood. The gladiator stood over Timothy and pointed the gladius at Timothy’s heart.

“Any last words, barbarian?” the gladiator mocked.

“What is your name?” Timothy asked.

“I am Samuel. Why would you care though?”

“So that I know who to plead forgiveness for when we see Jesus on judgement day”, Timothy replied.

The spectators began to grow impatient and were screaming, “Kill him! Kill him already!” To satisfy their demands, Samuel plunged his gladius into Timothy’s chest. While breathing heavily for a few seconds, Timothy looked into Samuel’s eyes with all the love he could display. Then, he took one last gasp and died.

While the crowds cheered for the gladiator’s victory, Samuel fell onto his own blade. The crowds gasped at the tragedy and grew silent at this unexpected sight wondering if he tripped or purposely stabbed himself. Either way, Samuel had moments left in this life. After inhaling his last breath, he coughed out, “Lord, forgive me of my sins against this brother of mine.” Once he spoke those words, he collapsed to the ground and died. While the audience watched in horror, Jesus left the arena carrying two souls to their Heavenly home.

.........

Not too long ago, a friend of mine was telling me about all the horrible things going on in our country. She told me with fear in her voice that the day is soon coming when we will lose our freedom of religion and will be persecuted for saying the name of Jesus. I did not agree with her worry, even though I can see how the world has gotten crazier during my short lifespan. I did not disagree with her nor tell her everything was going to be okay. Rather, I boldly stated, “Good!”

My friend looked at me with disbelief and scolded me for being so absurd. I then continue, “Jesus promised us trouble in this world. All throughout the Bible, we see His followers endured misery, trials, heartache, and even death. If God promised persecution and our previous brothers and sisters in Christ have experienced it, then I welcome it!”

To clarify, I am not saying that I want trouble because I am looking for it. I would much rather have the easy life I currently enjoy. Yet, I welcome the threat of persecution because I believe there are so many cultural Christians within our country. Millions of individuals state that they are Christians though they have never spent time with the Creator of everything visible and invisible. They say a prayer to enter Heaven, yet they have never encountered The One Who is Eternity. They are all words and never actions. They are only in it for the insurance card and destination, not for the relationship and journey.

These individuals are the reason why I welcome persecution. The moment Christianity becomes uncool, miserable, and even life threatening, these cultural Christians will hop off the band wagon within seconds. As for my brothers and sisters, like Timothy, who died in the Colosseum for the name of Jesus, they valiantly laid down their precious lives. As Hebrews 11 states, “They were too good for this world...all of these people earned a good reputation because of their faith, yet none of them received all that God has promised. For God had something better in mind for us, so that they would not reach perfection without us.” If there comes the day when we must choose this world verses Christ, I want, hope, and pray my answer to be only Jesus, no matter the cost.