“Blessed is he that cometh in the Name of the Lord”
Today is The Feast of Stephen, “when the snow lay round about, Deep and crisp and even,” as the old carol puts it. Many of our Christmas memories and associations are shaped by the hymns and carols of the season, some of which have little or no relation to anything directly in the Scriptural story. No snow after all in little Bethlehem long ago, no feast of Stephen for that matter, historically speaking; that only comes later. But why then, The Feast of Stephen on the day after Christmas? Because it illumines the whole meaning and purpose of Christ’s Incarnation. It is entirely about sacrifice and service. It opens us out to the real meaning and vocation of our humanity but only through God’s condescension.
The great carol, Good King Wenceslas (Tempus Adest Floridum) is, however, a kind of critical commentary on the Christmas mystery. It speaks in provocative images of the idea of the rich and great ones reaching out to seek the good of the poor and lowly in contrast to exploiting them. Thus it is about treading in the steps of the master, and, in a lovely image, “heat was in the very sod / Which the saint had printed.” But who is that master and saint? In the carol it is King Wenceslas, the tenth century Duke of Bohemia seen as rex justus, a just ruler, but the model and archetype of all justice and compassion is the figure whom Stephen serves even unto death; it is the Lord Jesus. He is the model and the meaning of the spirit of divine humility. The hymn and story are a powerful counter to the pretensions and posturings of the proud and mighty of our world and day; a powerful illustration of what true justice and compassion means.
The Feast of Stephen is the necessary counter as well to the overblown sentimentalities of Christmas. It reminds us of the brutal violence in human hearts and in our world and day. An uncomfortable thought. It is really a kind of critical corrective to the affairs of the Church and all other powers and authorities everywhere when they forget that they live for a purpose and not simply for themselves. In a way, it is as simple as that.
The Gospel presents us with a gruesome scene of violence; the stoning to death of a person because of their commitments and ideas, not, take note, their actions, but only their thoughts and associations. It is the paradigmatic expression of the tyranny of thought control, something to which we are no strangers in the fascisms of political correctness that surround us in our institutions and global world today. At a very literal level, we live in a world where such barbaric customs as stoning still continue, mostly against women, in certain countries and cultures. We do well to remember the most compelling story of Jesus’s encounter with the woman taken in adultery in order to ponder the strongest repudiation of violence in the name of religion possible, “let him who is without sin cast the first stone”. You will recall that the accusers of Christ, the woman was really only a foil, sought to catch him out only to be caught out themselves. “But when they heard it, they went away, one by one, beginning with the eldest.” It is a rich and compelling story. So too with The Feast of Stephen.
But here, in the story of Stephen what do we have? Simply the crown of glory – Stephen means crown – which is achieved through redemptive suffering, something about which our culture and even our churches are, at best, ambivalent. This is to miss the great mystery of Christmas which paradoxically enough, Stephen’s feast reminds us. Nothing could be more violent – a stoning unto death – and yet nothing could be more moving than the spirit of Stephen in the face of death. He shows us the quality of the forgiveness of sins. His death mirrors the death of Christ. Such is the Christian vocation. Glory is found in the suffering, the sufferings of Christ and our sufferings as joined to his. God Incarnate engages our broken and violent world.
Stephen’s words echo precisely the words of Christ on the Cross. They remind us that the Christmas mystery cannot ignore the crucifixion and resurrection of Christ. We move in a circle at once emphasizing this aspect and that aspect of the life of Christ as it turns upon the understanding of human experience in its truth and its untruth. The three Holy Days of Christmas contribute to the contemplation of what belongs to our human dignity. The Feast of Stephen reminds us about our life in Christ; his life in us and we in him. The radical meaning of that indwelling is captured in Stephen’s words of forgiveness towards his executioners. “Lord, lay not this sin to their charge,” echoing Christ’s words first word from the Cross, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” Therein lies the challenge of the Christmas mystery; to know and love what God is and what he is for us.
The Feast of St. Stephen helps us to understand the wonderful majesty of God in his dealing with human follies and wickedness, with human violence and brutality. It does not pretend to excuse our shortcomings but points us instead to the idea and the necessity of living sacrificial lives without which there is no redemption. It is too strong to say but Christians (and others, too) are metaphorically being stoned to death in the anti-religious spirit of our world and day. The Feast of Stephen counters the sentimentalities of our Christmases and the brutal violence of our hearts and world to awaken us to the deeper meaning of Christ’s nativity. He comes to save. And that means sacrifice and service on our part in relation to him. In whose steps shall we walk?
At issue is whether we have the strength of character to embrace that idea. Upon that hangs the issue of our blessedness as found in following the steps of the master.
“Blessed is he that cometh in the Name of the Lord”
Fr. David Curry
The Feast of St. Stephen, 2017