Christianity in the Coliseum

--Rome was built on blood. Romulus satisfied his pride by killing his brother Remus, who mocked the short walls built around the future city. Christians were killed because they mocked the shortcomings of simple marble, stone, and wood. They believed in something greater.

The Coliseum was a masterpiece of Roman engineering, architecture, but reflected also pagan cruelty and malice. The Coliseum stood in the midst of Rome among the seven Capitoline hills, a monument to Roman greatness and gluttony. It was occupied by 500,000 poor souls who screamed their hatred of the sacral and love of the banal. Tertullian called it the place of no mercy, but that charitable sect of humanity called Christians did not desire to live to receive the mercy of the Romans, but rather to die and receive the mercy of another.

This was a new kind of victim that the darkness of paganism could not comprehend as the reverend old man and child of five years walked into the place that stank of blood and brutality with eyes lifted to heaven and the hands folded, giving up their ghost in peace and with all the dignity possible in such a place. This is where slaves lost their lives and Christians saved their souls. Where the wild animals fed on a people who were fed by another flesh which gave them the strength and joy to face death. Where ships fought mock battles and where the followers of Christ swam in their own blood, but mocked the Romans in their steadfastness. A silent shout emerges from those ruins. A shout of victory and glory. The Thracian wielded a trident, but was defeated by the palm of a virgin. The gladiator entered to fight the beasts with a lance or gladius, but the Christians faced them only with faith and constancy. The blood which was shed by these victors watered the seed of Christianity and fostered the infant Church into a beautiful and healthy youth that the world could not crucify as it did its Master.

This giant of Roman architecture was conceived in the mind of Cesar Augustus, who commenced the construction in 70 A.D., employing some thirty thousand men to construct an amphitheater that has lingered to this day saturated with the blood of innocents. Oddly enough the workmen were captive Jews brought back to Rome by Titus and materialized by the ruins of the palace of Nero and the house of the Caesars on the Palatine Hill and built on top of a lake made by Nero. Little did Jew or Gentile know what kind of fountain they were constructing from which a river of blood would flow that would nourish the growth of the bride of Christ, not in order to satiate like a pagan sacrifice, but as the mystical body of Christ that, without the Divine paradox of life from death, could not serve without sacrifice. This enormous building covered six acres, stood 140 feet high, and was 564 feet long. It was finished under Titus and dedicated in 80 A.D. with the sole purpose of entertaining the people of Rome no matter the cost, for it was with popularity that many emperors maintained their throne, who even, at times, fought in the same arena as those that were condemned to death.

Persecutions were not unknown to the Christians when the great fire of Rome broke out on the night of July 18, 64 A.D., sparking a flame of persecution that would last the long night of two hundred and fifty years throughout the Empire. But the Christians fought fire with fire, the fire of faith, hope, and charity. This combat would be exemplified in the Coliseum which, soon after its completion, would house the games. Ironically, the first victim of the Coliseum was its own architect, the martyr St. Gaudentius.¹ Also odd is the etymology of his name. Gaudens, gaudentis is an adjective meaning “cheerful.” This may have come from the neuter noun gaudium meaning “joy” or “delight,” also meaning “cause of joy” or “source of delight.”² How soon would history prove the cheerful victims of the Coliseum as a source of delight to the heart of God! Virtually nothing is known of the circumstances surrounding the death of this peculiar martyr, only the verses on his tomb serve as testimony, “False and ungrateful was the pagan; He who is the great architect of the heavens, and whose promises fail not, has prepared for thee in reward of thy virtue a place in the everlasting theatre of the celestial city.” This additional act of patricide proves the ruthlessness of the Coliseum to exterminate the Christian religion, which had captured the heart of its designer.

The years ran on as the Coliseum watched the Empire conquer and fall, expand and contract, live and die, but what still remained was that place of horror and putrid pleasure. It was to come to an end. Nearly one hundred years after the death of the first Christian Emperor, the gladiatorial games were kept alive by a few rich senators and nobles, though the days of persecution were long gone. Far away in the wilds of Syria, in the silence of a humble cell, a monk named Telemachus heard the din of the stadium and screams of the dying. Infuriated on hearing these grim and gory stories of man killing his fellow man for the pleasure of a crowd, Telemachus set out for Rome. After months of travel he arrived at the city of Rome to be welcomed by a new series of games at the Coliseum. As he approached he heard the roar of humanity taken to a beastly level. Fired with holy zeal Telemachus entered the ring where the gladiators were combating and with a loud voice began to denounce this game of hell. Uponwhich the crowd stoned him to death. As it settled the populus looked upon the poor simple man they had just murdered. A simple monk. His message was love and theirs was hate. This last death caused the Emperor of the time to put a stop to the games of the Coliseum. The Coliseum was satisfied. It had eaten its full and now was sick. But what was it about this simple monk? We will never know. God's will.

1Martyrs of the Coliseum, p. 35

2The New College Latin and English Dictionary, p. 193