2 Corinthians 9:6-15; St John 12:1-8, 20-26
LSB 655
In the Name of + JESUS. Amen.
On Monday the Church remembered and gives thanks to God for Lawrence of Rome, a deacon and martyr of the third century. St Lawrence is known primarily for two feature, which are reflected in our readings tonight: his care for the poor and his martyrdom. And in all of it, St Lawrence shines forth with joy - a truly cheerful giver - who reflects He who is the Light of the world, even Jesus Christ.
It was the Year of our Lord 258. Dark days for the Roman Empire. The government was broke and Christianity was illegal. A nice combination if you’re the mayor of Rome, called the prefect. Not so nice if you’re a member of the one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church. The emperor had ordered all of the clergy of the Church to be killed. And that dastardly work was already well underway by August 7, 258. But the prefect of Rome got to thinking, “What about all the riches of the Church. Before we kill all these guys we ought to find out where they’ve stashed their treasures.”
And so the prefect of the city of Rome ordered the head deacon, Lawrence, to come in for a chat. Today we toss around the term deacon with such looseness that we have a hard time nailing down any specific meaning. An elder? A lay elder? A consecrated guy who helps with the liturgy and distribution? An unconsecrated, unordained guy who serves in Word and Sacrament ministry independent of any ecclesiastical supervision?
Not so for Lawrence. His job description was pretty clear: not only was he properly trained to help out in the Divine Service, but he was to especially care for the property of the Church, to see to it that the gifts of the people were used properly and wisely. To see to it that the church buildings were kept up, that the ministers received their sustenance, that the articles of worship, like the chalice for communion, or the stained glass, or the hymnals, or the vestments were purchased and cared for. Basically that all was kept in good order and that those people in the family of the Church who truly could not care for themselves and were in need were cared for. That was St Lawrence’s job.
But to the Roman prefect he was just the guy with the key to the vault: “Give us all the Church’s riches!”
Now, put yourself in Lawrence’s place. For days you have witnessed your friends and family, your pastors, being dragged off by the government and executed for the faith. You have been busy hiding whatever people you can, getting folks out of town, etc. The meanest, foulest sort of men are chasing down all the people you love, seeking to destroy Christ’s holy Church.
Now, on top of that, they are demanding you to hand over all the beautiful things of the church. All the gold and silver chalices, the art, the ornate vestments, that were paid for with the people’s gifts. These wicked men are demanding that the Church hand over to them the money that the people of God gave to support the ministers of the Church. The very ministers they had just killed with the sword!
How would you respond? Would you already be too depressed to get out of bed? Would you fly off the handle in an angry tirade? Would you break down in tears? Would you seize up with fear? Comprise with the cruel government order?
Not Lawrence. He has a plan. A crazy, funny, joyous plan. In these dark days St Lawrence, or Larry - I don’t think he’ll mind if we call him Larry, it seems to fit better - because even in these dark days Larry could see the absurdity.
“Give me three days, O Prefect, and I shall deliver to you all the treasures of the Church.”
The Prefect was delighted. That was easy! For since he was a cowardly, greedy, faithless man he thought all men were like him. He supposed that Larry just wanted three more days to live and would be happy to sell out his Church for the chance to live for 72 more hours.
But no. Larry had a plan. A plan to fulfill his duties as a deacon and a plan to play the most outlandish practical joke on this Roman prefect. So for three days Larry went on a wild, reverse shopping spree. Every golden chalice, every piece of art, every chair, every lamp, every pew and pulpit and vestment - he sold it all! He emptied the church’s bank accounts and closed them down. Then he filled the pockets of every lame, blind, palsied, and leprous man in all of Rome!
And then, on August 10th, Larry marched the whole parade of the poor to the prefect’s front door and said, “There you go! Here are the treasures of the Church. As you can see, we are even richer than the emperor!”
Infuriated, the prefect ordered that Larry was not to be beheaded, quick and clean, like the rest of the clergy of the city. No, he would be beaten, and then roasted alive on a scalding grill.
Now again, put yourself in Larry’s shoes. Do you beg for your life? Turn pale and throw up? Faint? Not Larry. He’s a man of faith. He knows where he’s going. He knows the Jesus who speaks to us today in the Gospel text: the Bread of Life, the Seed that was sown so that He could bear much fruit. The Jesus who died and rose again. The Jesus who shed His blood so that we could be cleansed of our sins. The Jesus who got up from the dead, glorious and eternally living, and who promises us a likewise glorious resurrection.
So Larry didn’t beg. He didn’t faint. He took his beating without a word. And when they threw him on the red hot grill he gritted his teeth, said a prayer, and bore up under the suffering.
But after a while he couldn’t control himself, he opened his mouth and said to the soldiers, “Boys, I think I’m done on this side, you’d better flip me over.”
Ha! The Lord loves a cheerful giver. And Larry was certainly that.
Now, I hope that you will not share the martyrs’ fate, though at this point, I’m not so sure anymore. But I know this: you certainly share the martyrs’ faith. Faith that clings to Jesus Christ alone and follows Him, even through death and the grave unto everlasting life!
So how can we not be cheerful? Don’t we know the same Jesus that St Larry of the Grill knew? Don't we know where we’re headed? Don’t we know that death is not the end of our story? Don’t we know that the things of this world are nothing but tools to be used for God’s purposes? Don’t we know that the only thing that matters is clinging to Jesus and following His Word and will, His commandments of love?
Lord willing, your life will not be anywhere near as dramatic as that of St Lawrence. But I do hope that it is filled with as much joy; the joy that comes from knowing Jesus. The joy that makes it possible to be a cheerful giver.
What can we learn from the wry comedy of St Lawrence? In the face of a world that is so deadly serious about its sins and about its greed and about its cruelty, and which seems hellbent on forcing Christians to turn over their treasures, we can learn from St Lawrence to laugh. To see how ridiculous the world is.
People live and die for such silly and stupid things: for money, for power, for lust, for fame. But we live and die for Jesus Christ. The contrast is so enormous that we don’t know whether to laugh or cry. St Lawrence did both. And now his tears are dried and he is very joyous in heaven. Where that prefect or those soldiers are depends on whether or not they learned anything from St Lawrence - whether they clung to the Word and learned to laugh at this world too. For humility and honor and generosity and courage all come from the same place: faith in Jesus.
Come, you hungry poor of the Church, and receive the treasures of heaven: the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ, which strengthens and preserves you in body and soul, in faith toward God and fervent love toward your neighbor, unto life everlasting.
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
LSB 655
In the Name of + JESUS. Amen.
On Monday the Church remembered and gives thanks to God for Lawrence of Rome, a deacon and martyr of the third century. St Lawrence is known primarily for two feature, which are reflected in our readings tonight: his care for the poor and his martyrdom. And in all of it, St Lawrence shines forth with joy - a truly cheerful giver - who reflects He who is the Light of the world, even Jesus Christ.
It was the Year of our Lord 258. Dark days for the Roman Empire. The government was broke and Christianity was illegal. A nice combination if you’re the mayor of Rome, called the prefect. Not so nice if you’re a member of the one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church. The emperor had ordered all of the clergy of the Church to be killed. And that dastardly work was already well underway by August 7, 258. But the prefect of Rome got to thinking, “What about all the riches of the Church. Before we kill all these guys we ought to find out where they’ve stashed their treasures.”
And so the prefect of the city of Rome ordered the head deacon, Lawrence, to come in for a chat. Today we toss around the term deacon with such looseness that we have a hard time nailing down any specific meaning. An elder? A lay elder? A consecrated guy who helps with the liturgy and distribution? An unconsecrated, unordained guy who serves in Word and Sacrament ministry independent of any ecclesiastical supervision?
Not so for Lawrence. His job description was pretty clear: not only was he properly trained to help out in the Divine Service, but he was to especially care for the property of the Church, to see to it that the gifts of the people were used properly and wisely. To see to it that the church buildings were kept up, that the ministers received their sustenance, that the articles of worship, like the chalice for communion, or the stained glass, or the hymnals, or the vestments were purchased and cared for. Basically that all was kept in good order and that those people in the family of the Church who truly could not care for themselves and were in need were cared for. That was St Lawrence’s job.
But to the Roman prefect he was just the guy with the key to the vault: “Give us all the Church’s riches!”
Now, put yourself in Lawrence’s place. For days you have witnessed your friends and family, your pastors, being dragged off by the government and executed for the faith. You have been busy hiding whatever people you can, getting folks out of town, etc. The meanest, foulest sort of men are chasing down all the people you love, seeking to destroy Christ’s holy Church.
Now, on top of that, they are demanding you to hand over all the beautiful things of the church. All the gold and silver chalices, the art, the ornate vestments, that were paid for with the people’s gifts. These wicked men are demanding that the Church hand over to them the money that the people of God gave to support the ministers of the Church. The very ministers they had just killed with the sword!
How would you respond? Would you already be too depressed to get out of bed? Would you fly off the handle in an angry tirade? Would you break down in tears? Would you seize up with fear? Comprise with the cruel government order?
Not Lawrence. He has a plan. A crazy, funny, joyous plan. In these dark days St Lawrence, or Larry - I don’t think he’ll mind if we call him Larry, it seems to fit better - because even in these dark days Larry could see the absurdity.
“Give me three days, O Prefect, and I shall deliver to you all the treasures of the Church.”
The Prefect was delighted. That was easy! For since he was a cowardly, greedy, faithless man he thought all men were like him. He supposed that Larry just wanted three more days to live and would be happy to sell out his Church for the chance to live for 72 more hours.
But no. Larry had a plan. A plan to fulfill his duties as a deacon and a plan to play the most outlandish practical joke on this Roman prefect. So for three days Larry went on a wild, reverse shopping spree. Every golden chalice, every piece of art, every chair, every lamp, every pew and pulpit and vestment - he sold it all! He emptied the church’s bank accounts and closed them down. Then he filled the pockets of every lame, blind, palsied, and leprous man in all of Rome!
And then, on August 10th, Larry marched the whole parade of the poor to the prefect’s front door and said, “There you go! Here are the treasures of the Church. As you can see, we are even richer than the emperor!”
Infuriated, the prefect ordered that Larry was not to be beheaded, quick and clean, like the rest of the clergy of the city. No, he would be beaten, and then roasted alive on a scalding grill.
Now again, put yourself in Larry’s shoes. Do you beg for your life? Turn pale and throw up? Faint? Not Larry. He’s a man of faith. He knows where he’s going. He knows the Jesus who speaks to us today in the Gospel text: the Bread of Life, the Seed that was sown so that He could bear much fruit. The Jesus who died and rose again. The Jesus who shed His blood so that we could be cleansed of our sins. The Jesus who got up from the dead, glorious and eternally living, and who promises us a likewise glorious resurrection.
So Larry didn’t beg. He didn’t faint. He took his beating without a word. And when they threw him on the red hot grill he gritted his teeth, said a prayer, and bore up under the suffering.
But after a while he couldn’t control himself, he opened his mouth and said to the soldiers, “Boys, I think I’m done on this side, you’d better flip me over.”
Ha! The Lord loves a cheerful giver. And Larry was certainly that.
Now, I hope that you will not share the martyrs’ fate, though at this point, I’m not so sure anymore. But I know this: you certainly share the martyrs’ faith. Faith that clings to Jesus Christ alone and follows Him, even through death and the grave unto everlasting life!
So how can we not be cheerful? Don’t we know the same Jesus that St Larry of the Grill knew? Don't we know where we’re headed? Don’t we know that death is not the end of our story? Don’t we know that the things of this world are nothing but tools to be used for God’s purposes? Don’t we know that the only thing that matters is clinging to Jesus and following His Word and will, His commandments of love?
Lord willing, your life will not be anywhere near as dramatic as that of St Lawrence. But I do hope that it is filled with as much joy; the joy that comes from knowing Jesus. The joy that makes it possible to be a cheerful giver.
What can we learn from the wry comedy of St Lawrence? In the face of a world that is so deadly serious about its sins and about its greed and about its cruelty, and which seems hellbent on forcing Christians to turn over their treasures, we can learn from St Lawrence to laugh. To see how ridiculous the world is.
People live and die for such silly and stupid things: for money, for power, for lust, for fame. But we live and die for Jesus Christ. The contrast is so enormous that we don’t know whether to laugh or cry. St Lawrence did both. And now his tears are dried and he is very joyous in heaven. Where that prefect or those soldiers are depends on whether or not they learned anything from St Lawrence - whether they clung to the Word and learned to laugh at this world too. For humility and honor and generosity and courage all come from the same place: faith in Jesus.
Come, you hungry poor of the Church, and receive the treasures of heaven: the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ, which strengthens and preserves you in body and soul, in faith toward God and fervent love toward your neighbor, unto life everlasting.
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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