ST. STEPHEN, DEACON AND MARTYR DECEMBER 26

While they were stoning Stephen, he prayed, “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.” Then he knelt down and cried out in a loud voice, “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.” When he had said this, he died.

[acts 7:59-60]

The Christmas season lasts until Epiphany.

For some people, however, Christmas is over as soon as the presents are unwrapped and the kids are gone. We fail to see the wonder and joy of what the season really means.

Church traditions are partially at fault because we have so over sentimentalized the season of Christmas that we fail to see the humanity in the divine Jesus.

Nevertheless, if you pay close attention to the church calendar, you’ll notice that our celebration of Christmas is quickly followed by several tragic commemorations.

Today, for example, December 26, the very next day after Christmas, the church celebrates the feast of Stephen, Deacon and Martyr. He was the first one to die in the name of Jesus.

On December 28, three days after the Nativity of Our Lord, we commemorate the Holy Innocents, in remembrance of all the children who lost their lives at the hand of a jealous and insecure King Herod, who was seeking to kill the child whom he thought would topple him from the throne.

Joseph and Mary were forced to take the baby Jesus and flee to Egypt in order to escape Herod’s reign of terror.

Granted, these events didn’t happen in such rapid succession, but it’s interesting how the Church has juxtaposed them – joy followed by tragedy.

In a way, it mirrors real life.

We live in the constant ebb and flow of happiness and sorrow, gladness and grief.

As I sat at Christmas Eve worship on Wednesday, I felt restless, unsettled. I really couldn’t really festive.

My mind was weighed down with the thought of the many immigrant families in this country that are living in fear because of the inordinate cruelty unleashed by the current President and the callousness of his administration in their relentless abuse of authority.

The partisan political divide has at times become too much to bear.

There are those of us, however, who, because we go about our daily routines in relative safety, without fear of violence, war, hunger, or oppression, we most likely give little thought to those who find themselves in those situations.

Others have become so numbed by these heartbreaking events in recent months that when we hear of them, we react with indifference. We are simply worn out.

As I mentioned in my Christmas Eve reflection, Jesus, was born in a stable, in a manger full of straw, with the smell of real, live animals in the barn.

God chose the common and the natural, the humble and the ordinary, to express God’s love for us.

During the season of Christmas and these twelve days of Christmas, we celebrate the fact that Jesus was truly human.

Amid the Christmas specials and the happy songs we sing, the backdrop of the evening news reminds us that the world is all too often still a dark and violent place.

It is important to underscore the humanity of Jesus because the humanity of Jesus underscores for us the humanity of God.

This message about the humanity of God also talks about the humanity of us human beings.

Jesus’ birth is an event that happens in the real world. A place where people’s lives are haunted by tyranny, pain, and poverty; a place not so different from the one that you and I inhabit.

Jesus enters the world like each one of us, dependent upon others for survival.

He is vulnerable to hunger and thirst, to cold and stress, to infection, accident, and mishap.

Mary and Joseph are entrusted with this precious baby’s life.

In the same fashion, we are entrusted with the care for each other.

At Christmas, Christ comes to us as a real live human baby to show us that we, too, as live humans can see signs and wonders in our ordinary routine lives, long after Christmas.

It happens when we believe.

Let us pray:
We give you thanks, O Lord of glory, for the example of the first martyr Stephen, who looked up to heaven and prayed for his persecutors to your Son Jesus Christ, who stands at your right hand: where he lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, in glory everlasting. Amen.
(Lesser Feasts and Fasts 2024, p. 581)

In the interest of full disclosure, this is a reworking of reflections I wrote several years ago on or near this date.

Feature Image source: Annibale Carracci, The Stoning of Stephen, Annibale, ca. 1603-1604, Louvre, France