Isaiah 52:7-8 How beautiful upon the mountains Are the feet of him who brings good news, Who proclaims peace, Who brings glad tidings of good things, Who proclaims salvation, Who says to Zion, “Your God reigns!” Your watchmen shall lift up their voices, With their voices they shall sing together; For they shall see eye to eye When the Lord brings back Zion.
In the 4th century lived a Christian named Telemachus, in a remote village, tending his garden, and spending much time in prayer. One day, he believed he heard the voice of God telling him to go to Rome, so he obeyed, setting out on foot. Some weeks later, weary from his journey, he arrived in Rome about the time of a great festival.The little man followed the crowd surging through the streets into the Colosseum. He saw the gladiators standing before the Emperor and proclaiming, “We who are about to die salute you.” Then Telemachus realized that these men were going to fight to the death for the entertainment of the cheering crowd. So he cried out in a loud voice, “In the name of Christ, Stop!” Yet the games began, so he pushed his way through the crowd, climbed over the wall and dropped onto the floor of the arena. The entire Colosseum watched this tiny figure rushing toward the gladiators, crying, “In the name of Christ, STOP !!!” The gladiators thought it was part of the show and began laughing. But in a few moments, they realized it was not part of the show, and then the crowd became angry. Telemachus stood his ground, insistently pleading with the gladiators to stop their bloody show, when one of them plunged a sword into the saint’s body. He fell to the sand. As he was dying, his last words were, “In the name of Christ, STOP!!!”
Then a strange thing happened. The gladiators stood there looking at the tiny Christian lying there dead. A hush fell over the Colosseum. Way up in the upper rows, a man stood and made his way to the exit. Others followed. In dead silence, one by one, everyone left the Colosseum. The year was 404; and that day saw the last battle to the death between gladiators in the Roman Colosseum. Telemachus’ martyrdom initiated an historic ban on gladiator fights by the Roman Emperor Honorius. Never again in the great stadium did men kill each other for the entertainment of the crowd. One tiny man’s bold voice — one voice — reshaped Roman history, and saved thousands of lives, by fearlessly proclaiming the truth in God’s name!
You may be a little man, or woman, spending time alone with Yeshua (Jesus). And He may be preparing you in the quiet place, for a moment when you will be called to raise your voice in some public square or stadium, to fearlessly stand for His truth, even if it might cost your life. Remember Telemachus, whose voice changed the world because God’s word was behind it. Boldness is not bravado, but is rooted in deep conviction based on deep relationship and unswerving obedience. And its effects resound through history. So cultivate that intimate relationship with Him, and be ready to be launched into the arena of death-dealing humanity. Your lack of fear and your love for others will reveal the Yeshua whom you love, to many souls.
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]When we read the promises of God, we must read them the way we ourselves want to be heard—in full context. Just as we expect others to understand our words in light of what we’ve said before, God expects us to interpret His promises in light of all He has revealed in His Word.
A few days ago, I shared a quote from B.J. Willhite, and today I want to delve deeper into his powerful insight. He wrote, “The law of prayer is the highest law of the universe—it can overcome the other laws by sanctioning God’s intervention. When implemented properly, the law of prayer permits God to exercise His sovereignty in a world under the dominion of a rebel with free will, in a universe governed by natural law.”
When God spoke to Abram, the command was clear yet profoundly personal. The Hebrew phrase lech lecha carries a dual meaning: “go forth” and “go for yourself.” This journey wasn’t just a physical relocation; it was a spiritual pilgrimage—a call to walk out God’s will and to walk into his divine inheritance. Abram’s journey was not merely about distance but about destiny.
In the stillness of a desert night, surrounded by cut offerings and the lingering scent of sacrifice, Abram beheld something utterly sacred — God Himself, in the form of a smoking oven and a burning torch, passing between the pieces of a covenant. It was not Abram who walked through the blood-soaked path. It was God alone. And that changes everything.
Tonight we’ll participate in the Independence Day celebration in Israel — and what a party! — shows, fireworks, music, dancing, everything under the sun!
Yesterday, Israel observed Yom HaShoah—Holocaust Remembrance Day—honoring the memory of the six million Jews who perished. Tragically, a recent poll reveals that nearly half of Israelis fear the possibility of another Holocaust. In light of this sobering reality, I want to share a powerful story of one remarkable woman who rescued 2,500 Jewish children from the ghettos during World War II.
One night a house caught fire and a young boy was forced to flee flames by jumping to the ground from the roof. His father stood on the ground below with outstretched arms, calling to his son, “Jump! I’ll catch you.” But the boy was afraid — he couldn’t see his father — all he could see was flame, smoke, and blackness. He was afraid. Still, his father kept yelling: “Jump son! I will catch you!” But the boy refused, crying, “Daddy, I can’t see you!” His father replied, “It’s ok son — I can see you — and that’s all that matters!”