But He Is My Father

BUT HE IS MY FATHER

There is an old Roman story which tells how a Roman emperor was once enjoying a great victory. He had the privilege of marching his troops through the streets of Rome with all of his captured trophies, and his prisoners behind him. This emperor was marching with his troops; the streets were lined with cheering people; the tall legionnaires had lined the streets’ edges to keep the people in their places.

At one point on the triumphal route, there was a little platform where the empress and her family were sitting to watch the emperor go by, and all of the pride of his victory. On the platform with his mother was the emperor’s youngest son, just a little boy. As the emperor came near, that little boy jumped off the platform, burrowed through the crowd, and tried to dodge between the legs of one of those legionnaires, so he could run out on the road to meet his father’s chariot. The legionnaire stooped down and stopped him; he swung him up in his arms, and said, "You can’t do that. Don’t you know who that is in the chariot? That is the Emperor. You can’t run out to his chariot."

The little lad looked at the legionnaire and laughed and said, "He may be your emperor, but he is my father."

(From a sermon by Ricky Nelms, But He’s My Father, 7/14/2010)