After Constantine's conversion to Christianity, the Roman Empire had a long string for more or less Christian emperors, with one notable exception: Emperor Julian (A.D. 355-363). Julian was known to later generations as "Julian the Apostate." He was a neo-pagan, not unlike the postmodern pagans now being cultivated by our decaying culture. Even the highly cultivated and philosophically Neo-Platonist pagans of his day despised him. Julian tried mightily to revive paganism in the Roman Empire. He angered the people of Antioch, where John Chrysostom was later deacon and bishop (A.D. 381-398), when he slaughtered large numbers of animals in pagan sacrifices during a terrible famine, leaving many people hungry while feeding the maw of the carved gods of the pagan pantheon. He complained that the Christians were noted for their love and goaded the pagans of the empire to be as loving as the Christians. However, the Christians understood that the best sacrifices were those not perpetrated on dumb animals but those accepted by Christians in self-offering. It is better to give your cattle beast to a hungry neighbor than to some dead god. Julian was not a good example for the pagan population of the empire. He loved blocks of wood and stone at the expense of human beings.

 The Christians understood that they were to give themselves away to the need of their neighbor. In this way Christianity is the most humanizing religion. Our sacrifices of thanksgiving offered by Christians are not offered to God, who has no need of them, but to our neighbor who has desperate need of us (Ps 50:7-15). Good works serve our neighbor, not God. We give ourselves away to their need, even and especially when they neither appreciate it, nor thank us for our offering. At first, this might seem a horrible waste, "All I wanted was a little thanks!" However, we are becoming more Christ-like by offering ourselves for the sake of the neighbor. Christ never counted the cost, nor even begrudged His suffering and death for the sake of those who hated Him and taught contrary to His Word (2Pt 2:1). He died for those who mocked Him and nailed Him to the accursed tree, begging the Father's forgiveness upon them (Lk 23:34). He died for His enemies; enemies like us! If we are killed like this with Him, what of that?

Not only are we killed with Him by sharing in His indignities, we are repeatedly susceptible to slaughter, as we offer ourselves every day as living sacrifices to our neighbor in need (1Pt 2:5). How can we be susceptible to multiple deaths? If as the writer to the Hebrews says, "It is appointed for man to die once" (Heb 9:27), how can we be killed all day long, like sheep led to the slaughter? Our self-offering is a repeated visitation of death. And since we are dying to live, this is as it should be. We are dying every day, not just to sin, but also to our neighbor's need. We are sheep whose daily slaughter provides for others. The Lamb of God has provided the paradigm of life-giving death to His dear sheep. We have the privilege of giving ourselves away ever and again. Let's keep dying to live.