Monday, February 8, 2021

Were Christians Killed in the Roman Colosseum?

by Steve Ray on February 8, 2021

Screen Shot 2021-02-08 at 8.32.23 AMMost guides today in Rome will give you an instant and ready reply, “No, Christians were not killed in the Roman Colosseum! ” Of course I heard the exact opposite when I first went to Rome multiple times in the 1980’s.

St. Ignatius of Antioch was martyred in the colosseum, three hundred yards from his bones today in the Church of San Clemente.

Liz Lev is not only a dear friend but also an expert on anything Rome, especially Christian history and art. Tune in tonight to hear her lecture “Were there Marytyrs in the Colosseum? Context and Confusion regarding Early Christian Persecution.” You won’t be disappointed.


external-content.duckduckgoI have heard the brief version of this lecture many times inside the colosseum with our groups with Liz as our guide. In the middle of the tour through the colosseum I always yell out the question, “We Christians really killed here? Tell us the real story Liz.”

Now you can enjoy the full answer for yourself. And since tour guides are out of work right now, feel free to drop off a donation to a very good cause: Donations.

Come and Discover whether this monument surrounded by many mysteries and legends was ever witness to the execution of Christians.

Sign up HERE for tomorrow, February 8th, at 12pm ET (6pm Italy) and follow Liz Lev through the historical records of the world’s most famous amphitheater.



I suspect you’ve heard this short poem by Rudyard Kipling before, but it is good to sing-song your way through it again every once in a while.
Once on a bus in Israel a man stood up on a long ride and recited it verbatim. Quite moved and impressed.
It is entitle IF

If you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,

Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,

And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;

If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

And treat those two impostors just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,

Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,

And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

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