THE MESSAGE OF CHRISTMAS

A SERMON FOR THE FEAST OF ST. STEPHEN

It’s the day after Christmas.  As we return to church, our hearts filled with comfort and joy, it might come as a bit of a jolt to realize that we are here to celebrate the stoning to death of St. Stephen the first martyr.  How can our minds make that leap from the peaceful scene at Bethlehem to the mob violence we witness in today’s lesson?  How do we adjust our psyche from the Silent Night, Holy Night atmosphere, with the stars in the bright sky and the cattle a-lowing, to this new image of a man surrounded by the enemies of God, brutally throwing sharp, hard rocks at the holy deacon Stephen?  And why does the church deliberately place this scene in the liturgy so soon after the peace and joy of Christmas?

The connection may not seem so obvious at first.  But it’s there, present in both these events, obscured only by our own impervious sentiments which, as usual, conflict with the supernatural realities.  God, in his mercy, wants us to rejoice now and again, and we are certainly permitted, even encouraged, to participate in the happiness of Christmas Day and the season that follows.  But we may never indulge that happiness to the extent that we forget the reason for the season—that Christ Child in the manger who now so happily dwells among us for a time, came down from heaven for a reason.  His whole life leads to that sacrifice of love he made for us on the cross, and today we are presented with the first ultimate sacrifice of love that followed his own, that of the protomartyr St. Stephen.

There is no better comparison between Christmas Day and the Feast of Stephen which follows, than the sermon of St. Fulgentius.  Listen carefully to how he draws together the two blessed events:

“Yesterday,” he says, “we were celebrating the Birth in time of our eternal King.  Today we celebrate the triumphant suffering of one of his soldiers.  Yesterday our King, clothed in the robe of our flesh, was pleased to come forth from his royal palace of the Virgin's womb to visit the world.  Today his soldier, laying aside the tabernacle of the body, entereth in triumph into the palace of heaven.  The One, preserving unchanged that majesty of the Godhead which he had before the world was, girded himself with the lowliness of our flesh in the form of a servant, and entered the battlefield of this world.  The other, putting off the corruptible garment of our flesh, entered into the heavenly mansion, there to reign for ever.  The One cometh down, and is veiled in the flesh of his human birth.  The other goeth up, and is robed with a glory which is red with the blood of his temporal death.

“The One cometh down amid the jubilation of Angels.  The other goeth up amid the stoning of Jewry.  Yesterday the holy Angels rejoiced in the song: Glory to God in the highest.  Today they rejoice in the welcome whereby they do receive Stephen into their company.  Yesterday the Lord came forth from the Virgin's womb.  Today his soldier is delivered from the prison of the body.  Yesterday Christ was for our sakes wrapped in swaddling bands.  Today he girdeth Stephen with a robe of immortality.  Yesterday the new-born Christ lay in a narrow manger.  Today Stephen entereth victorious into the boundless heavens.  The Lord came down, one and alone, that he might raise many up.  Our King descended to our low estate that he might set his soldiers, such as Stephen, in high places.”

St. Fulgentius goes on to show how this triumph of St. Stephen was achieved, and how the first martyr was able to conquer the hatred and persecution of the enemies of God.  He bore no arms or armour other than charity.  “The love of God strengthened him against the hatred of Jewry.  The love of his neighbour made him pray even for his murderers.  Through love he rebuked them in their perversities that they might be corrected.  Through love he prayed for them that stoned him that they might not be punished.”

The Jews who stoned St. Stephen that day were helped by one of the chief persecutors of the Christians, a man by the name of Saul.  This was the same Saul who was riding one day to Damascus to continue his persecutions when he was struck from his horse by a bolt of lightning and struck blind.  Christ himself appeared to Saul, who was then baptized and changed his name from Saul to Paul, the great St. Paul, Apostle of the Gentiles.  This intervention by God was no doubt due to the prayers made by St. Stephen as the stones struck him to the ground: “Lord, lay not this sin to their charge.”  As St. Fulgentius puts it, “By the might of his charity he overcame Saul, his cruel persecutor, and earned, as a comrade in heaven, the very man who had done him to death upon earth.”

Charity then, is the link between the joys of Christmas and the violent hatred we witness today.  The very act of God sending his only-begotten Son to die for us was an act of divine charity.  His followers recognized God’s love for them and so were prepared to pass down that love in their own way, by gladly accepting whatever tribulations and crosses they were given, following him, if called upon to do so, even unto death, and freely forgiving those who trespassed against them.  So you see, the Christ Child in his manger and the first martyr St. Stephen have one and the same message of love to pass on to us, and we must now be ready to take up our own cross and follow them both to glory.