“If only you had been born a man. What a Caesar you would have made! You would have been strong, I wonder… would you have been just?” Those were the words my father, the Emperor Marcus Aurelius, said to me after he and his general, Maximus Decimus Meridius, led the Roman army to victory against a barbaric Germanic tribe. My father was wise and old at that point, and both my brother, Commodus, and myself knew that his days were numbered. One of us, the former, was looking forward to his death. After all, Commodus believed he would be emperor next.
My name is Lucilla and I am the Emperor’s daughter. As Maximus told my father, I believe that we, the royal blood of Rome, are here “for the glory of the Empire.” But perhaps, this not something exclusive only for the royal blood, for Maximus, our general, is almost family to us, although we do not share the same blood. My father loved him. Before his death, my father approached Maximus and told him it would be Maximus who would be the heir the to throne – not my brother Commodus. But when my father told this to my brother, Commodus lost control, strangled, and killed my father.
I loved Maximus too, but he had no choice but to escape as my brother Commodus became the new emperor. Out of fear for my brother I could not weep, for my father or for Maximus. My only motive for living was my young son, Lucius. I loved him more than I loved myself. My brother loved me in the way a man loves a women, and not the way a brother should love a sister. I endured it, for the sake of my son. Years passed and during the commemoration of my father’s death in the games at the Colosseum, I saw Maximus again. I thought he was dead. But he was very much alive and defeated the legionaries on horseback. Through the grapevine, I found out that my brother had murdered Maximus’ wife and son. Maximus had been captures and had become a slave as a Gladiator, fighting for his life ever since.
My brother did not kill Maximus because he was at the service of the people and the crowd loved Maximus. Rome is the mob. Rome is the people. However, my brother did try to kill Maximus. He set him up for a battle against the Tigris of Raul, the only undefeated warrior of Roman history. The game was bloody and unfair, with tigers involved. Yet the Maximus that I love survived.
Only then did I realize I needed to be courageous and risk my life for those whom I loved – both Maximus and my son Lucius. I helped Maximus get his freedom back and plotted with him and a senator to battle against my brother. But my brother found out and Maximus was captured again. I was responsible; I betrayed Maximus when my son’s life was in jeopardy. Finally, my brother decided that he himself would fight Maximus in a brutal game that resulted in both Commodus’ and Maximus’ death.
Maximus’ last command was “Release my men. Senator Gracchus is to be reinstated. There was a dream that was Rome. It shall be realized. These are the wishes of Marcus Aurelius.” Maximus taught me so much. He taught me the meaning of love, of loyalty, and of will power. His love for my father, for Rome, and for his family exceeded beyond my love for my son, Lucius. Maximus’ last words to me were, “Lucius is safe.” His name will be remembered in the centuries to come because he knew his identity in the eyes of my father, the Emperor. Maximus knew who he was even in the face of tribulation and death. “Is Rome worth one good man's life? We believed it once. Make us believe it again. He was a soldier of Rome. Honor him.”
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How often do we forget our identity in Christ? We are princesses and princes, co-heirs. We are the apple of His eye. Don't forget that this weekend: you are loved.
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