In the wake of the tragic shooting in Connecticut, renewed rhetoric is already swirling about gun control (from both sides). Sometimes one way to reflect on a topic – especially a controversial topic – is to tell a story.
Note: If you worshiped with the Zoar Church family this past Sunday you have heard the story already. You may want to skip to the observations.
This story is about a fifth century monk named Telemachus. Although versions of it vary somewhat, church historians tell us that the account is quite reliable. It was first recorded by Theodoret, Bishop of Cyrrhus in Syria (393-457 A.D.). You may have heard it. In 1984 Ronald Reagan told it to the group gathered at the Annual National Day of Prayer Breakfast in Washington D.C.
Telemachus was a young man who had pursued all the pleasures the world had to offer and came up empty. One day he had a vision of Jesus Christ and became one of his followers. He joined the Jesus movement.
He took up residence in a monastery and lived there for awhile. But, according to Theodoret, he had another vision of Christ, this time telling him to go to Rome. The day he entered the capital city of the Roman Empire there was a great commotion. The Romans were celebrating a recent military victory over the Goths and the streets were full of people.
Without even realizing what was happening, Telemachus was swept into the seating area of the Roman Coliseum. From where he sat he could see the Emperor, Honorius, in his box seat. Then Telemachus saw the gladiators run into the stadium, line up before the emperor and give the traditional pledge; “we who are about to die, salute you!”
Suddenly Telemachus knew exactly what was happening. Soon the gladiators were engaged in hand to hand combat. With every clash of metal to metal Telemachus winced. With every bloodletting gash he grieved. Human beings, created in the image of God, were profaning God and wasting human life in a blood sport designed to satisfy a blood thirsty crowd. What he saw he could not bear. So he responded the only way he knew to respond.
He began shouting, “In the name of Jesus, stop! In the name of Jesus, stop!” The roar of the crowd made his shouts pointless, so almost without thinking he made his way down to the wall that stood between the crowd and mortal danger. He cried out, “In the name of Jesus, stop!” No response.
Then, in and act perhaps more out of love and desperation than courage, he jumped over the wall and onto the field. He ran toward the gladiators shouting, “In the name of Jesus, stop!”
Finally the crowd noticed this little monk running around yelling something and, in an effort to hear what he was saying, grew silent. And then everybody heard – the crowd, the gladiators, the emperor – “In the name of Jesus, stop!”
For a brief moment there was silence. Then the silence turned to laughter. Then the laughter turned to anger at a monk who would dare interrupt their sport. Telemachus just kept up his sermon. “In the name of Jesus, stop!” He was between two gladiators now repeating the refrain, “In the name of Jesus, stop!”
The gladiators seemed to take their cue from the blood thirsty crowd. One swung his sword at the monk just missing. The crowd roared! And then another gladiator did not miss. He ran his sword through the little monk, pinning his jerking body to the ground. The ground turned bright red as the monk’s blood soaked the sand at the feet of his executioner. Telemachus drew his last breath while his voice still echoed off the coliseum walls. “In the name of Jesus, stop!”
Then something strange happened. The crowd did not applaud or roar with laughter. In fact, the crowd grew completely silent. The story goes that, one by one, the citizens of Rome began to walk out of the coliseum. After a long silent procession the theater was empty. The emperor watched in amazement, and then he too turned and walked out. The gladiators stood silently over the lifeless body of a little monk named Telemachus until the doors opened and they were allowed to leave. Then they dropped their weapons, turned and walked out.
In 404 A.D. the Roman Emperor Honorius issued an edict forbidding gladiator combat in the West. The story goes that the edict was issued shortly after a little monk died shouting, “In the name of Jesus, stop!”
So what does that story have to do with gun control? The answer is nothing… unless you consider yourself a follower of Jesus. But if you are a Jesus follower the story reminds you how to respond to violence and the attempts to control it.
In my opinion, here’s the central truth. Ultimately, people with weapons don’t stop people with weapons. People with Jesus do. Ultimately, people with gun control laws don’t stop people with weapons. People with Jesus do.
Nonviolent resistance (one of the teachings of Jesus) has historically been more effective at combating violence than any other approach. By the way, I wonder what would happen to the weapon manufacturing industry if every person who claimed to be a Christian stopped buying them. While respecting our right to bear arms, I just wonder what possible reason a follower of Jesus would have for owning an instrument designed to take the life of another human being (unless he or she really enjoys pretty serious target practice).
Bottom line, from people like Stephen (who died praying for those who stoned him) to Telemachus to Martin Luther King Jr., those with Jesus in their hearts and on their lips are more powerful than those with weapons in their hands.
