Air, water, fire -Sermon from August 10th

(c) 2014 C. B. Park, all rights reserved

Today is a day for air, water and fire. Air and Water for the gospel. Fire for a deacon of the church.  These elements stand side by side today; they do not destroy each other. They inform each other and give us lessons in living our faith in the world.

Water for the ancient world meant chaos.  Water was a threat.  Floods destroy the planet; the sea blocks the escape for Moses. You don’t get through the waters of this world without divine intervention. Wind joins with water to create dangerous waves that swamp your boat or fling you into the chaos.

Jesus walking on the water gives the disciples hope because they see that the powers of evil have no effect on their Teacher.  He tells them “it is I” – the equivalent of “I am” here – the God of the universe has everything under control.  It’s just that we don’t always perceive this to be true. 

Water is Matthew’s metaphor to remind us that being a disciple of Jesus means that we may find ourselves in situations that are threatening, even (as they say) unto death.

Such was the case of our deacon of the church. Lawrence of Rome served as archdeacon under Pope Sixtus in the early years of the Christian Church.  It was in the mid-200’s under the violent rule of emperor Valerian.  Valerian required that the treasuries of the church be emptied into the coffers of the Roman empire and that all sacrifices be made to the emperor.  Pope Sixtus would become the second pope in a row to give up his life on behalf of the faith.  Deacon Lawrence visited Sixtus in prison. He was said to have been distressed to see his bishop in custody and wanted to go with him to his death.  Sixtus, though, had other plans.  He told Lawrence to take the money from the church’s treasury and distribute it to the poor.

Lawrence did as he was told and when Sixtus came to trial he confirmed that he had done the distribution of treasure by his own hand. The word “treasure” caught the attention of some of the guards and he was arrested.  Deacons just don’t know when to keep their mouths shut. Never have. Never will. I was a deacon for 15 years.  Believe me, I know this.

So Lawrence found himself in prison.

Soldiers were sent to Lawrence’s cell to force him to give the church treasure over to Valerian.  Lawrence told him that if he were given three days, he would bring the treasure of the church to the emperor.  He gathered together a crowd of poor and sick people who depended upon the Church’s charity. When the soldiers came for the collection, Lawrence told them “Here are the vessels in which is contained the treasure. And everyone who puts their treasure in these vessels will receive them in abundance in the Heavenly Kingdom.”

As you can probably guess, this didn’t help his cause.  Valerian ordered him to be tortured – death by the sword was too good for these Christians who wanted to die quickly for their cause.  Lawrence was racked, beaten, and flailed.  Finally, he was laid on a gridiron and positioned so that he would burn to death slowly.  The folklore surrounding his martyrdom reports that Lawrence told his captors that he was done on one side and that they should turn him over.  After they did, he gave up his spirit.

Lawrence was buried in the catacombs of Rome and the gridiron, I understand, is in the reliquary of the church that bears his name just outside the city boundaries.  He is known today as the patron saint of bankers, comedians, and fire (or, if you will, ‘barbeque’).

Air, water, fire.  The more I reflect on Peter in today’s gospel and the story of Deacon Lawrence the more parallels I see.  Both are enmeshed in chaos. Peter in the wind and the waves; Lawrence in the political reality that would lead him to the flames. Both reached out to their teacher and mentor bidding them to take them along. Both ended up following Jesus to their own martyrdoms.  Following Jesus is not for the faint of heart.

We cannot forget how incredibly lucky we are to be Christians in this place and in this time.  Perhaps that thankfulness is why I cling to the stories of people like Peter and Lawrence. Or the brave witness given by Oscar Romeo, who was assassinated at the altar in San Salvador, or of Bernard Mizeki, who was stabbed to death while defending his catechism class in Zimbabwe. 

Even now, as we gather here in Dublin, Ohio, to worship without fear, hundreds of Christians in Iraq are being targeted for execution because they have committed their lives to following Jesus.

I’m aware each week that being an ordained person was often a life-threatening situation.  There’s very little protection between a priest with outstretched arms and an angry mob.  The history behind the priest receiving communion first is that, if the elements had been poisoned by an enemy the priest would be killed before the others gathered for the Divine Liturgy. For the priest – it was the Last Supper!  One of my professors at Trinity said once that “We are first in line because we are first for the lions.” (This is why priests should never upset the altar guild!)

We may think our lives are chaotic, but we are so very mistaken.  Some Christian leaders may claim that we are being persecuted in this country, but they are so very mistaken.  We are ignored, yes. We are misunderstood, yes. We are laughed at, yes. But, when it comes to being “persecuted”, at worst we are victims of our own choices.

The last parallel of Peter and Lawrence is one of Good News.  Both found grace in being a disciple of Jesus Christ.  Despite the fact that their faith came at great personal cost, both went to their end deeply committed to their faith and showed a certain sarcastic quality with their tormentors.  Peter decided to be crucified head down so that he wouldn’t be taking the same form of death as his master.  But, you can just imagine what the soldiers then had to contend with in the process.  “Turn me over,” Lawrence said to the Roman soldiers. Even in the midst of his pain, he found the bravado to taunt his executioners.

May we be brave enough to step into uncharted waters of ministry, walk through windstorms of fear, and endure fiery attacks from those who hate us in order to share the love and grace we have in our knowledge of Christ.  And may we take time each day to be thankful that our opportunities for service are not putting us in danger on a daily basis.  Pray for peace, my friends, in all the world.

Amen.

[Note: On August 11th, Robin Williams took his life and with him a piece of all of our joy.  May Lawrence, the patron saint of comedians, keep him company.] 

(c) 2014 C. B. Park, all rights reserved