Standing Strong: St. Christopher Defeats Lust

Christophorus stood on the wooden planks of the pulpitum, the stage of the local theatre in Lycia. From the surrounding concrete tiers, the audience spat insults and shouted for justice. He ignored them.

Instead, he faced the tribunal where the Emperor Decius sat darting his eyes - from the crowd, to Christophorus, to his soldiers on both sides of the stage. The leader looked nervous.

Despite sitting on the dais, Decius was near eye level with him. Christophorus had always been taller than the other boys his age and had grown into giant of a man. He had been a handsome youth. But after facing temptation, he had asked God to take away his good looks. Now he stood on the pulpitum with an unnaturally disfigured face. Not a pleasing sight for the mob.

Jeers from the crowd assaulted him:

Make him worship the gods!

Use the rack!

The iron bed with spikes!

This last suggestion gained popularity among the crowd and a unified chant arose above the chaos: “I-ron spikes! I-ron spikes!

Christophorus noticed a praetorian gesture to the Emperor to see if the soldiers should carry the torture bed to the stage.

Decius nodded, cowered down in his seat, and stared at Christophorus. He jerked his chin to a servant, who obeyed by setting a smoking bowl at the feet of the prisoner. The scent of nutmeg and cedar rose with the smoke. The servant held out a plate with grains to sprinkle in the bowl. Christophorus ignored it.

The Emperor sneered. “This is your last chance. Make your offering to the gods.”

The spicy scent of the offering dissipated in the open air, overpowered by the odor of thousands of crowded bodies in the stands. Many had come straight from work in the fields or kitchens or bellows. Smeared with dirt, they demanded torture.

Christophorus prayed for strength, and God helped him.

He endured the stretching tortures that pulled his joints out of place.

He endured the sharp knives drawing his red blood and the blunt pounding on his bones.

He endured the red hot metal melting his skin and the smell of his own burning flesh.

After all those tortures, he forced himself to rise, first to one knee and then to both feet.

To his left, the forgotten charcoal smoked near the overturned bowl. He looked at Decius, who crouched in his seat.

Gathering his strength, Christophorus bellowed, making Decius flinch. “I will not deny my Christ!”

Decius’ face flitted between rage, fear, and excitement. He gestured to his assistant who hurried over. “Bring me the two most beautiful prostitutes in Lycia. Bathe them. Oil them. Dress them in silks.” He looked at Christophorus to see his reaction. “You withstood torture. Let’s see if you can withstand temptation.”

Christophorus remained standing and waited.

An hour later, the herald’s voice announced the entry of Aquilina and Kallinika.

When the two women stepped onto the stage, the raucous crowd silenced for a moment before launching into rude suggestions.

Aquilina approached first, slowly and purposefully, her whole body centered around the slight swaying of her hips as she stepped.

Christophorus kept his gaze on her eyes and tried to see her as an image of God. Straining to raise his voice, he spoke to her about Christ.

Hearing him return to this subject, the crowd booed and shook their fists. Christophorus figured they were making other lewd gestures aimed at the ladies’ vocation, but he kept eye-contact with Aquilina as he spoke.

He could sense Decius squirming in his chair but continued telling Aquilina and Kallinika about Christ. He watched the change in their expressions.

Their eyes went from cloudy to confused, then melted into understanding. Finally, they settled into determination. Both ladies turned their back to him and faced the crowd. Their voices rose loud and clear - very different from the sultry ones they entered with. They confessed that they too believed in the God of Christophorus.

The crowd went wild.

Not the sort of wild of seeing a gladiator win a match. No, it was the wild of a hornet’s nest that has been upset. The wild of human beings calling for torture instruments to abuse their fellow sisters.

Soldiers grabbed the women and dragged them off stage to prepare their tortures.

Looking at the deformed faces of the raging crowd, Christophorus was tempted to hate them.

Instead, he looked within to see Christ waiting for him. He prayed for the people in the crowd and saw a vision of what would happen after more torture.

More than one thousand of these men and women would convert to Christ. Decius would flee the theatre in fear.

The vision made him straighten his throbbing back and level his chin.

On the stage of the theatre in Lycia, Christophorus stood tall for Christ.

After enduring more torture, he was finally beheaded. Then, he stood before Christ himself, the Emperor of Heaven and Earth.