Today is St. Stephen’s Day. You know that from the popular Christmas carol: “Good King Wenceslas looked out, on the feast of Stephen.” That’s December 26th. And so the color is red instead of the usual Christmas white, not to match the Christmas poinsettias, but to match the blood of Stephen, the Church’s first martyr
As a matter of fact, two of the twelve days of Christmas are martyrs days. Today, the feast of St. Stephen, and December 28th, the feast of the holy innocents, on which we remember the baby boys of Bethlehem who died under Herod’s sword for no other reason than they resembled Jesus. This is no coincidence. The coming of Christ always brings the cross and opposition.
The Baby of Bethlehem has fists clenched in blood. He is the world’s great war-Lord, God’s enmity maker, the devil’s head crusher. The Revelation depicts Him as rider on a white horse with robes dipped in blood and a sword coming out of His mouth. This Baby from Bethlehem is destined for blood, and so there is a very close connection between the Christ Child and the first Christian martyr.
The eastern Orthodox sing this hymn on St. Stephen’s day:
Yesterday the Master assumed our flesh
And became our guest.
Today His servant is stoned to death
And departs in the flesh:
The glorious protomartyr Stephen.
Stephen is offered to the King
As a living sacrifice.
For today he departs in the flesh
To God Almighty who came to dwell in the flesh
Completing his combat in honor
For the sake of Christ.
Christmas comes with a cross. The wood of the manger is never far removed from the wood of the cross. Both preach the same thing: “He came to His own, but His own did not receive Him.” The Messiah is a rejected Messiah. He is the rejected Savior. The cross and Christ always go together. You can’t have one without the other, and any Christ without a cross is not the genuine article.
Stephen didn’t volunteer to be Christ’s first martyr. He had a fairly mundane job in the congregation at Jerusalem making sure that the Greek widows had enough food. One of the things the early church did was provide care for elderly widows who had no family to take them in. The church in Jerusalem was composed of Hebrews and Greeks. And, as inevitably happens, there was tension between the two. The Greek widows were complaining that the Hebrews were being given special treatment. And so the apostles directed the congregation to chose seven Greek men of good standing to take make sure that the Greek widows were cared for. Kind of a board for social ministry. Stephen was listed first among them. He is sometimes called the church’s first deacon. And if all deacon Stephen had done for the rest of his days was take care of little old Greek widows, he probably would have lived a long, happy life without much trouble.
But Stephen was filled with grace and power of the Holy Spirit. He did many great wonders and signs. And he spoke with such wisdom and power that the Jews who debated with him couldn’t keep up. That’s when the trouble began. Works of mercy won’t get you in trouble. You might even get a Congressional medal of honor or a Nobel peace prize. But preach Jesus, and the cross is sure to be right there with you.
Stephen preached that Jesus was the Messiah, the Christ. Now that alone probably wouldn’t have stirred up too much trouble. But it was the implications of what he preached that created the stir. You see, if Jesus truly is the Christ, the Messiah, and if by His dying and rising He has won salvation for the world, then the religion of Israel was fulfilled. The temple sacrifices were fulfilled. The Law of Moses, with its rules and regulations, was fulfilled.. And that’s what got Stephen in trouble.
Look at the charges against him. “He is speaking against this holy place (the temple) and the law (of Moses).” Most everyone will tolerate a “live and let live, don’t ask don’t tell” approach to religion. What you believe is true for you, what I believe is true for me. Moslem, Buddhist, Hindu, Jew, Christian - whatever, so long as it keeps you out of trouble. You can even claim that your religion is exclusively true, as most respectable religions do. But preach that God was uniquely in Christ reconciling the world to Himself, not counting men’s sins against them, that Jesus alone is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world even before the world has the good sense to ask to have its sins removed, and the world will pick up stones.
It’s a curious thing. Persecution in the book of Acts and in the Revelation, comes from two places - religion and politics. Religion and Politics are the two great enemies of the good news that God has redeemed the world in the death of Jesus. Who tried to kill Jesus when He was a baby? King Herod. Who ultimately killed Jesus? Religion and Politics. The chief priests and Pilate. Who are the two beasts in the Revelation? Again, Religion and politics.
Religion and Politics love each other. Religious leaders are always cozying up to the politically powerful to push their agendas. And political leaders are always schmoozing the religious to co-opt their influence.
Why do Religion and Politics hate the Gospel? Because they both promise what only Jesus delivers. Politics holds out the promise of utopia, an ideal kingdom. Call it what you will: a New Deal, a Great Society, Camelot, a new world order. It’s all the same thing. Better living through the exercise of political power. “Vote for me and I’ll make your life will be better. Trust me.” But the truth is that the kingdoms of this world, including our own, are all passing away. There are serious cracks in the foundation, and one day the walls will come tumbling down like Jericho’s. And in the end there is only one kingdom that stands forever, and its King is Jesus, and His kingdom is already established. We don’t do it. He’s already done it. It’s finished.
Religion holds ways to deal with God on our terms, sacrifices to win God over to our side. But Jesus is the Priest of His own sacrifice. How do you bargain with a God who does it all Himself, who becomes man and dies and rises? You can’t. It’s finished. The curtain of the temple is ripped in two from top to bottom. Nothing we do reconciles us with God. God is reconciled in the death of Jesus. Period. End of discussion. All you can do is believe it.. And that’s why religion hates the Gospel. The cross of Jesus yanks the plug on religion.
Look at who threw stones at Stephen. They were fine, respectable, religious people, the Sanhedrin, religious leaders who thought they were doing God a favor, standing up for the truth. Look at who was supervising the whole thing: Saul of Tarsus. Now there’s a Gospel twist for you. The man who approved the stoning of the first Christian martyr later became the greatest apostle to the Gentile world. Who says God isn’t subversive? He makes the archenemy an apostle! That’s a perfect illustration of what Stephen preached. God used the rejection of the Jews to work the salvation of the world. Listen to it again. God used Israel’s rejection , not her cooperation but her constant resistance and rejection of her own Messiah to work the salvation of the world. That’s why Religion hates the Gospel. It totally rules out our cooperating with God.
In his martyr’s death, Stephen resembled Jesus on the cross. He saw Jesus, standing at the right hand of God. He prayed to Jesus. “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.” He prayed for those who were killing him. “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.” Oh, that the Lord would grant each of us such joy! To see Jesus glorified. To trust him not only with the little things of our life but with the big thing of our death. To die praying for the forgiveness of those who have hurt us.
They buried Stephen with great grieving, it says. Saul went on a rampage, going from one house church to another, dragging off men and women off to prison. Quite a difference from the signs and wonders of Pentecost Day. And I believe that this is precisely Luke’s point in the book of Acts - the church in the world remains a militant church, always under attack from within and without. And in her weakness, and suffering, and martyrdom God is mighty and active because weakness, suffering, and death is the way of salvation. After years of trying to wipe out Christianity in Russia, Josef Stalin once said, “The Church is like a nail. The harder you drive it, the deeper it goes.”
We say “Merry Christmas.” And by that we mean, “may your steaks be thick and your roasts juicy. May your glasses be filled with good wine. And may there be many presents under your tree, and a warm fire in your fireplace. And may your house be filled with friends and family.” Well and good. Nothing wrong with being merry. Just don’t confuse it with Christmas joy. Merry you can have with a good bottle of wine. Joy comes only with the Christ Child.
And there is a deadly-serious joy that comes with the birth of the Christ Child, a joy that runs so much deeper than holiday merriment. The red-stained joy of dying to live in Christ. Of seeing Jesus in His glory. Of being received by Him to a feast that has no end. Of forgiving others as you have been forgiven. This joy is yours not simply at Christmas time but every day in your Baptism and especially every Lord’s Day when Jesus’ death and life become your food and drink.
May the Christ Child fill you with the joy of St. Stephen.